15 Landmark Decisions: Freedom of Speech and of the Press (Cloned) 15 Landmark Decisions: Freedom of Speech and of the Press (Cloned)

15.1 Mutual Film Corp. v. Industrial Commission of Ohio 15.1 Mutual Film Corp. v. Industrial Commission of Ohio

MUTUAL FILM CORPORATION v. INDUSTRIAL COMMISSION OF OHIO.

APPEAL FROM THE DISTRICT COURT OF THE UNITED STATES FOR THE NORTHERN DISTRICT OF OHIO.

No. 456.

Argued January 6, 7, 1915.

Decided February 23, 1915.

Where provisions for censorship-of moving pictures relate only to films intended for exhibition within the,State and they are distributed to persons within the State /or exhibition, there is no burden imposed on interstate commerce..

The doctrine of original package does not extend to moving picture films transported, delivered and used as shown in the record in this case, although manufactured in, and brought from, another State.

Moving picture .films brought from another State to be rented or sold by the consignee to exhibitors, are in consumption and mingled as much as from their nature they can be with other property of the State and subject to its otherwise valid police regulation, even before the consignee delivérs to the exhibitor.

The judicial sense, supporting the common sense of this country, sus- . tains the exercise of the police power of regulation of moving picture -exhibitions.

The exhibition of moving pictures is a business, pure and simple, originated and conducted for profit like other spectacles, and not to be regarded as part of the press of the country or as organs of public opinion within the meaning of freedom of speech and publication guaranteed by the constitution of Ohio.

This court will not anticipate the decision of the state court-as to the application of a police, statute of the State to a state of facts, not involved in the record of the case before it. Quaere, whether moving pictures exhibited in places other than places of amusement should fall within the provisions of the censorship statute of Ohio.

While administration and legislation are distinct powers and the line that separates their exercise is not easily defined, the legislature must declare the policy of the law and fix the legal principles to control in given cases, and an administrative body may be clothed with power to ascertain facts and conditions to which such policy and principles apply.

It is impossible to exactly specify such application in every instance, and the general terms of censorship, while furnishing no exact standard *231of requirements may get precision from the sense 'and experience of men and become certain and useful guides in reasoning and conduct.

Whether provisions in a state statute clothing a board or Congress composed of officers from that and other States with power, amount to such delegation of legislative power as to render the provisions unconstitutional, will not be determined by this court in a case in which it appears that such Congress is still non-existent.

The moving picture censorship act of Ohio of 1913 is not in violation of the Federal Constitution or the constitution of the State of Ohio, either as depriving the owners of moving pictures of their property without due process of law or as a burden on interstate' commerce, or as abridging freedom and liberty of speech and opinion, or at delegating legislative authority to administrative officers.

215 Fed. Rep. 138, affirmed.

Appeal from an order denying appellant, herein designated complainant, an interlocutory injunction sought to restrain the enforcement of an act of the General Assembly of Ohio passed April 16,1913. (103 Ohio Laws, 399), creating'under the authority and superintendence of the Industrial Commission of the State a board of censors of motion picture films. The motion was presented to three judges, upon the bill, supporting affidavits and some oral testimony.

The bill is quite voluminous. It makes the following attacks upon the- Ohio statute: (1) The statute is in violation of §§ 5, 16 and 19 of article 1 of the constitution of the State in that it deprives complainant of a remedy by due process of law by placing it in the power of the board of censors to determine from standards fixed by itself what films conform to the statute, and thereby deprives complainant of a judicial, determination of a violation of the law. (2) The statute is in violation of articles 1 and 14 of the amendments to the Constitution of the United States, and of § 11 of article 1 of the constitution of Ohio in that it restrains complainant and other persons from freely writing and publishing their sentiments. (3) It attempts to give the board of censors legislative power, *232which is vested only in the General Assembly of the State, subject to a referendum vote of the people, in that it giyes to the board the power to determine the application of the statute without fixing any standard by which the board shall be guided in its determination, and places- it in the power of the board, acting with similar boards in other States, to reject, upon any whim or caprice, any film which may be presented, and power to determine the legal status of the foreign board or boards, in conjunction with which it is empowered to act.

The business of the complainant and the description, use, object and effect of motion pictures and other films ,contained in the bill, stated narratively, are as follows: Complainant is engaged in the business of purchasing, selling and leasing films, the films being produced in other States than Ohio, and in European and other foreign countries. The film consists of a series of instantaneous photographs or positive prints of action upon the stage or in the open. By being projected upon a screen with great rapidity there appears to the eye an illusion of motion. They depict dramatizations of standard novels, exhibiting many subjects of scientific interest, the properties of matter, the growth of the various forms of animal and plant life, and explorations and travels; also events of historical and'current interest — the same events which are described in words and by photographs in newspapers, weekly periodicals, magazines a,nd other publications, of which photographs are promptly secured a few days after the events which they depict happen; thus regularly furnishing and publishing news through the medium of motion pictures under the name of “Mutual Weekly.” Nothing is depicted of a harmful or immoral character.

The complainant is selling and has sold during the past year for exhibition in Ohio an average of fifty-six positive prints of films per week to film exchanges doing business in that State, the average value thereof being the sum of *233$100, aggregating $6,000 per week or $300,000 per annum.

In addition to selling films in Ohio complainant has a film exchange in Detroit, Michigan, from which it rents or leases large quantities to exhibitors in the latter State and in Ohio. The business of that exchange and 'those in Ohio is to purchase films from complainant and other manufacturers of films and rent them to exhibitors for short periods at stated weekly rentals. The amount of rentals depends upon the number of reels rented, the frequency of the changes of subject, and the age or novelty of the reels rented. The frequency of exhibition is described. It is the custom of the business, observed by all manufacturers, that a subject shall be released or published in all theaters on the same day, which is known as release day, and the age or novelty of the film depends upon the proximity of the day of exhibition to such release day. Films so shown have never been shown in public, and the public to whom they appeal is therefore unlimited. Such public becomes more and more limited by each additional exhibition of the'reel.

The amount of business in renting or leasing from the Detroit exchange for exhibition in Ohio aggregates the sum of $1,000 per week.

Complainant has on hand at its Detroit exchange at least 2,500 reels of films which it intends to and will exhibit in Ohio and which it will be impossible to exhibit unless the same shall have been approved by the board of censors. Other exchanges have films, duplicate prints of a large part of complainant’s films, for the purpose of selling and leasing to parties residing in Ohio, and the statute of the State will require their examination and the payment of a fee therefor. The amounts of complainant’s purchases are stated, and that complainant will be compelled to bear the expense of having them censored because its customers will not purchase or hire uncensored films.

The business of selling and leasing films from its offices *234outside of the State of Ohio to purchasers and exhibitors within .the State is interstate commerce, which will be seriously burdened by the exaction of the fee for censorship, which is not properly an inspection tax and the proceeds of which will be largely in excess of the cost of enforcing the statute, and will in no event be paid to the Treasury of the United States.

The board has demanded of complainant that it submit its 'films to censorship and threatens, unless complainant complies with the demand, to arrest any and all persons who seek to place on exhibition any film not so censored or approved by the censor congress on and after November 4, 1913, the date to which the act was extended. It is physically impossible to comply with such demand and physically impossible for the board to censor the films with such rapidity as to enable complainant to proceed with its business, and the delay consequent upon such examination would cause great and irreparable injury to such business and would involve a multiplicity of suits.

There were affidavits filed in.support of the bill and some testimony taken orally. One of the affidavits showed the manner of shipping and distributing the films and was as follows:

“The films, are shipped by the manufacturers to the film exchanges enclosed in circular metal boxes, each of which metal boxes is in turn enclosed in a fibre or wooden container. The film is in most cases wrapped around a spool or core in a circle within the metal case. Sometimes the film is received by the film exchange wound on a reel, which consists of a cylindrical core with circular flanges to. prevent the film from slipping off the core, and when so wound on the reel is also received in metal boxes, as above described. When the film is not received on a reel, it is, upon receipt, taken from the metal box, wound on a reel and then replaced in the metal box. So wound and so enclosed in metal boxes, the films are shipped by the film *235exchanges to their customers. The customers take the film as it is wound on the reel from the metal box and exhibit the pictures in their projecting machines, which are so arranged as to permit of the unwinding of the film from the reel on which it is shipped. During exhibition, the reel of film is unwound from one reel and rewound in reverse order on a second reel. After exhibition, it must be again unwound from the second reel from its reverse position and replaced on the original reel in its proper position. After the exhibitions for the day are over, the film is replaced in the metal box and returned to the film exchange, and this process is followed from day to day during the life of the film.

“All shipments of films from manufacturers to film exchanges, from film exchanges to exhibitors, and from exhibitors back to film exchanges, are made in accordance with regulations of the Interstate Commerce Commission, one of which provides as follows:

“‘Moving picture films must be placed in metal cases, packed in strong and tight wooden boxes or fibrewood pails. ’ ”

Another of the affidavits divided the business as follows:

“The motion-picture business is conducted in three branches; that is to say, by manufacturers, distributors, and exhibitors, the distributors being known as film exchanges. . . . Film is manufactured and produced in lengths of about one thousand feet, which are placed on reels, and the market price per reel of film of a thousand feet in length is at the rate of ten cents per foot, or one hundred dollars. Manufacturers do. not sell their film direct to exhibitors, but sell to film exchanges, and the film exchanges do not resell the film to exhibitors, but rent it out to them.”

After stating the popularity of motion pictures and the demand of the public for new ones and the great expense their purchase would be to exhibitors, the affidavit proceeds as follows:

*236“For that reason film exchanges came into existence, and film exchanges such as the Mutual Film Corporation are like clearing houses or circulating libraries, in that they purchase, the film and rent it out to different exhibitors. One reel of film being made to-day serves in many theatres from day to-day until it is worn out. The film exchange, in renting out the films, supervises their circulation.”

An affidavit was filed made by the “general secretary of the national board of censorship of motion pictures, whose office is at No. 50 Madison Avenue, New York City.” The “national board,” it is averred, “is an organization maintained by voluntary contributions, whose object is to improve the moral quality of motion pictures.” Attached to the affidavit was a fist .of subjects submitted to the board which are “classified according to the nature of said subjects into scenic, geographic, historical, classic, educational and propagandists.”

Mr. William B. Sanders and Mr. Walter N. SeligsHerg, with whom Mr. Harold T. Clark was on the brief, for appellants:

The Federal courts have jurisdiction to decide all the constitutional questions, whether Federal or state, presented by the records. Ohio B. & W. R. R. v. Dittey, 232 U. S. 578; Siler v. Louis'. & Nash. R. R., 213 U. S. 175, 191.

Appellants are entitled to invoke the protection of the constitutional guaranties of freedom of publication and liberty of the press as fully as any person with whom they do business could do. Savage v. Jones, 225 U. S. 501, at pp. 519-521; Collins v. New Hampshire, 171 TJ. S. 30; Caldwell v. North Carolina, 187 U. S. 622; Crenshaw v. Arkansas, 227 U. S. 389, 397; Kahn v. Cincinnati Times Star, 10 Oh. Dec, 599, aff'd 52 Oh. St. 662.

Appellants’ motion pictures are publications and entitled as such to the protection afforded by the freedom *237of publication guaranty contained^ in § 11, Art. I of the Ohio constitution. Kalem v. Harper Bros., 222 U. S. 55, 60; Harper Bros. v. Kalem, 169 Fed. Rep. 61; Daly v. Webster, 56 Fed. Rep. 483; Dailey v. San Francisco Superior Court, 112 California, 94; United States v. Williams, 3 Fed. Rep. 484; United States v. Loftis, 12 Fed. Rep. 671; LeRoy v. Jamison, 15 Fed. Cas. 373.

Appellants’ motion pictures constitute part of "the . press” of Ohio within the comprehensive meaning of that term. They play an increasingly important part in the spreading of knowledge and the molding of public opinion upon every kind of political, educational, religious, economic and social question. The regular publication of new films under the name of "Mutual Weekly” is clearly a press enterprise.

See §Ti, Art I, Ohio constitution, providing that “Every citizen may freely speak, write and publish his sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse of the right; and no law shall be passed to restrain or abridge the liberty of speech, or of the press.

The Censorship Law violates § II in that it imposes a previous restraint upon freedom of publication, which applies to all publications whether made through the medium of speech, writing, acting on the stage, motion pictures, or through any other mode of expression now known or which may hereafter be discovered or invented, and upon the liberty of the press. Dopp v. Doll, 9 O. Dec. Rep. 428; Judson v. Zurhorst, 1Ó O. C. C. (N. S.) 289; S. C.,. aff’d, 78 O. S. 44f>; Cooley’s Const. Law, 3d ed., Ch. XIV, § V, especially 309; Story on the Constitution, 5th ed., § 1182; Black’s Const. Law, 3d ed., 658; Paterson on Liberty of Press, pp. 10 and 41; Cooley’s Blackstone, 4th ed., p. 1326; Patterson v. Colorado, 205 U. S. 454, 462; Dailey v. Superior Court, 112 California, 94; Ex parte Neil, 32 Texas Criminal Court, 275; Cowan v. Fair-brother (N. C.), 32 L. R. A. 829, 836; Ulster Square Dealer *238v. Fowler, 111 N. Y. Supp. 16; Life Association v. Boogher, 3 Mo. App. 173; Clothing Co. v. Watson, 168 Missouri, 153; Atchison &c. Ry. v. Brown, 80 Kansas, 312; Rawle on Constitution, 2d ed., pp. 123, 124; Levert v. Daily States Pub. Co., 123 Louisiana, 594; Sweeney v. Baker, 13 W. Va. 182; Williams Printing Co. v. Saunders, 113 Virginia, 156; Williams v. Black, 24 S. Dak. 501.

The constitutional guaranties are. not limited to forms of publication known at the time the Constitution was adopted. Hurtado v. California, 110 U. S. 516, 530; Boyd v. United States, 116 U. S. 746, 752;- Holden v. Hardy, 169 U. S. 366, 385; In re Debs, 158 U. S. 164, 591.

The censorship law is not sustainable as a plan for the regulating of theatres by a system of granting or withholding licenses, because appellants’ films are exhibited in churches, libraries, factories, .store windows, before open air gatherings, etc. Moreover, even as to theaters, the surrender of the constitutional guaranty of freedom of publication could not be required as a condition precedent to the granting of a license. Dist. of Col. v. Saville, 8 D. C. App. 581; People v. Steele, 231 Illinois, 340; Chicago v. Weber, 246 Illinois, 304; Indianapolis v. Miller, 168 Indiana, 285; William Fox Co. v. McClellan, 62 Mise. 100; Ex parte Quarg, 84 Pac. Rep. 766; Empire City Trotting Club v. State Racing Commission, 190 N. Y. 31.

The censorship law cannot be sustained as a proper exercise of the police power, because it directly contravenes the constitutional guaranties of freedom of publication and liberty of the press. Board of Health v. Qreenmlle, 86 Oh. St. 1, 21; Lawton v. Steele, 152 U. S. 133, 137; Mugler v. Kansas, 123 U. S. 623, 661; Sperry ex rel. v. Sperry & Hutchinson, 94 Nebraska, 785.

The Ohio Motion Picture Censorship violates the provisions of § 11, Art. I of the constitution of Ohio, in that it attempts to delegate. legislative power. Harmon v. State, 66 O. S. 249; Toledo v. Winters, 21 O. Dec. 171; *239Ex parte Sam Lewis, 14 O. N. P. (N. S.) 609; Noel v. People, 187 Illinois, 591; Kerr v. Ross, 5 App. D. C. 441; State v. Burdge (Wis.), 37 L. R. A. 157, 161; Mathews v. Murphy, 63 S. W. Rep. 785.

Mr. Robert M. Morgan, with whom Mr. Timothy S. Hogan, Attorney General of the State of Ohio, Mr. James I. Boulger and Mr. Clarence D. Laylin were on the brief, for appellees.

See brief on behalf of State of Kansas in No. 597, post, p. 253.

By leave, of court, Mr, Waldo 0. Morse and Mr. Jacob Schechter filed a brief as amici curice in behalf of the Universal Film Manufacturing Company.

Mr. Justice McKenna,

after stating the case as above, delivered the opinion of the court.

Complainant directs its argument to three propositions: (1) The statute in controversy imposes an unlawful burden on interstate commerce; (2) it violates the freedom of speech and publication guaranteed by § 11, art. 1, of the constitution of the State of Ohio;1 and (3) it.attempts to delegate legislative power to censors and to other boards to determine whether the statute offends in the particulars designated.

It is necessary to consider only §§ 3, 4 and 5. Section 3 makes it the duty of thé board to examine and censor motion picture films to be publicly exhibited and displayed *240in the State of Ohio. The films are required to be exhibited to the board before they are delivered to the exhibitor for exhibition, for which a fee is charged.

Section 4. “Only such films as are in the judgment and discretion of the board of censors of a moral, educational or amúsing and harmless character shall be passed and approved by such board.” The films are required to be stamped or designated in a proper manner.

Section 5. The board may work in conjunction with censor boards of other States as a censor congress^ and the action of such congress in approving or rejecting films shall be considered as the action of the state board, and all films passed, approved, stamped and numbered by such congress, when the fees therefor are paid shall be considered approved by the board.

By § 7 a penalty is imposed for each exhibition of films without the approval of the board, and by § 8 any person dissatisfied with the order of the board is given the same rights and remedies for hearing and reviewing, amendment or vacation of the order “as is provided in the case of persons dissatisfied with the orders of the industrial commission.'”

The censorship, therefore, is only of films intended for exhibition in Ohio, and we can immediately put to one side the contention that it imposes a. burden on interstate commerce. It is true that according to the allegations of the bill some of the films of complainant are shipped from Detroit, Michigan, but they are distributed to exhibitors, purchasers, renters and lessors in Ohio, for exhibition in Ohio, and this determines the application of the statute. In other words, it is only films which are “to be publicly exhibited and displayed in the State of Ohio ” which are required to be examined and censored. It would be straining the doctrine of original packages to say that the films retain that form and composition even when unrolling and exhibiting to audiences, or, being ready for *241renting for the purpose of exhibition within the State, could not be disclosed to the. state officers. If this be so, whatever the power of the State to prevent the exhibition of films not approved — and for the purpose of this contention we must assume the power is otherwise plenary— films brought from another State, and only because so brought, would be exempt from the power, and films made in the State would be subject to it. There must be some time when the films are subject to the law of the State, and necessarily when they are in the hands of the exchanges ready to be rented to exhibitors or have passed to the latter, they are in consumption, and mingled as much as from their nature they can be with other property of the State.

It is true that the statute requires them to be submitted to the board before they are delivered to the exhibitor, but we have seen that the films are shipped to “exchanges” and by them, rented to exhibitors, and the “exchanges” are described as “nothing-more .or less than circulating libraries or clearing houses.” And one film “serves in many theatres from day to day until it is worn out.”.

The next contention is that the statute violates the freedom of speech and publication guaranteed by the Ohio constitution. In its discussion- counsel have gone into á very elaborate description of moving picture exhibitions and their many useful purposes as graphic expressions of opinion and sentiments, as exponents of policies, as teachers of science and history, as useful, interesting, amusing, educational and moral. And a list of the “campaigns,” as counsel call them; which may be carried on is given. We. may concede the praise. It is not questioned by the Ohio statute and under its comprehensive description, “campaigns” of an infinite variety may be conducted. Films of a “moral, educational or amusing and harmless character shall be passed and approved” are the words of the statute. No exhibition, therefore, or “campaign” *242of complainant will be prevented if its pictures have those qualities. Therefore, however missionary of opinion films are or may become, however educational or entertaining, there is no impediment to their value or effect in the Ohio statute. But they may be used for evil, and against that possibility the statute was enacted. Their power of amusement and, it may be, education, the audiences they assemble, not of women alone nor of men alone, but together, not of adults only, but of children, make them the more insidious in corruption by a pretense of worthy purpose or if they should degenerate from worthy purpose. Indeed, we may go beyond that possibility. They take their attraction from the general interest, eager and wholesome it may be, in their subjects, but a prurient interest may be excited and appealed to. Besides, there are some things which should not have pictorial representation in public places and to all audiences. And not only the State of Ohio but other States have considered it to be in the interest of the public morals and welfare to supervise moving picture exhibitions. We would have to shut our eyes to the facts of the world to regard the precaution unreasonable or the legislation to effect it a mere wanton interference with personal liberty.

We do not understand that a possibility of an evil employment of films is denied, but a freedom from the censorship of the law and a precedent right of exhibition are asserted, subsequent responsibility only, it is contended, being incurred for abuse. In other words, as we have seen, the constitution of Ohio is invoked and an exhibition of films is assimilated to the freedom of speech, writing and publication assured by that instrument and for the abuse of which only is there responsibility, and, it is insisted, that as no law may be passed "to restrain the liberty of speech or of the press,” no law may be passed to subject moving pictures tó censorship before their exhibition.

*243We need not pause to dilate upon the freedom of opinion and its expression, and whether by speech, writing or printing. They are too certain to need discussion — of such conceded value as to need no supporting praise. Nor can there be any 'doubt of their breadth nor that their underlying safeguard is, to use the words of another, “that opinion is free and that conduct alone is amenable to the law.”

Are moving pictures within the principle, as it is contended they are? They, indeed, may be mediums of thought, but so are many things. So is the theatre, the circüs, and all other, shows and spectacles,- and their performances may be thus brought by the like reasoning under the same immunity from repression or-supervision as the public press, — made the same agencies of civil liberty.

Counsel have not shrunk from this extension of their contention and cite a case in this court where the title of drama was accorded to pantomime;1 and such and other spectacles are said by counsel to be publications of ideas, satisfying the definition of the dictionaries, — that is, and we quote counsel, a means of making or announcing publicly something - that otherwise might have remained private or -unknown, — and this being peculiarly the purpose and effect of moving pictures they come directly, it is contended, under the protection of the Ohio constitution.

The first impulse of the mind is to reject the contention. We immediately feel that, the argument is wrong or strained which extends the guaranties of free opinion and speech to the multitudinous shows which are advertised on the bill-boards of our cities and towns and which regards them as emblems of public safety, to use the words of Lord Camden, quoted by counsel, and which seeks to *244bring motion pictures and other spectacles into practical and legal similitude to a free press and liberty of opinion.

The judicial sense supporting the common sense of the country is against the contention. As pointed out by the District Coprt, the police power is fámiliarly exercised in granting or withholding licenses for theatrical performances as a means of their regulation. . The court cited the following cases: Marmet v. State, 45 Ohio, 63, 72, 73; Baker v. Cincinnati, 11 Ohio St. 534; Commonwealth v. McCann, 213 Massachusetts, 213, 215; People v. Steele, 231 Illinois, 340, 344, 345.

The exercise of the power upon moving picture exhibitions has been sustained. Greenberg v. Western Turf Ass’n, 148 California, 126; Laurelle v. Bush, 17 Cal. App. 409; State v. Loden, 117 Maryland; 373; Block v. Chicago, 239 Illinois, 251; Higgins v. Lacroix, 119 Minnesota; 145. See also State v. Morris, 76 Atl. Rep.479; People v. Gaynor, 137 N. Y. S. 196, 199; McKenzies. McClellan, 116 N. Y. S. 645, 646.

It seems not to have occurred to anybody in the cited cases that freedom of opinion was repressed in the exertion of the power which was illustráted. The rights of property were only considered as involved. It cannot be put out .of view that the exhibition of moving pictures is a business pírre and simple, originated and conducted for profit, like other spectaclés, not to be regarded, nor intended to be regarded by the Ohio constitution; we think, as part of the press of the country or as organs of public opinion. They are mere representations of events, of ideas and sentiments, published and known, vivid, useful and entertaining no doubt, but, as we have said, capable of evil, having power for it, the greater because of their attractiveness and manner of exhibition. It was this capability and power, and it may be in experience of them, that induced the State of Ohio, in addition to prescribing penalties for immoral exhibitions, as it does in its Criminal *245Code, to require censorship before exhibition, as it does by the act under review. We cannot regard this as beyond the power of government.

It does not militate against the strength of these considerations that motion pictures may be used to amuse and instruct in other places than theatres — in churches, for instance, and in Sunday schools and public schools. Nor are we called upon to say on this record whether such exceptions would be within the provisions of the statute nor to anticipate that it will be so declared by the state courts or so enforced by the state officers.

The next contention of complainant is that the Ohio statute-is a delegation of legislative power and void for that if not for the other reasons charged against it, which we have discussed. While administration and legislation are quite distinct powers, the line which separates exactly their exercise is not easy to define in words. It is best recognized in illustrations. Undoubtedly the legislature must declare the policy of the law and fix the legal principles which are to control in given cases; but an administrative body may be invested with the power to ascertain the facts and conditions to which the policy and principles apply. If this could not be done there would be infinite confusion in the laws, and in an effort to detail and to particularize, they would miss sufficiency both in provision and execution.

The objection to the statute is that it furnishes no standard of what is educational, moral, amusing or harmless, and hence leaves decision to arbitrary judgment, whim and caprice; or, aside from those extremes, leaving it to the different views which might be entertained of the effect of the pictures, permitting the “personal equation” to enter, resulting “in unjust discrimination against some propagandist film,” while others might be approved without question. But the statute by its provisions guards ■ against such variant judgments, and its terms, like other *246general terms, get precision from the sense and experience of men and become certain and useful guides in reasoning and conduct.' The exact specification of the instances of their application would be as impossible as the attempt would be futile. Upon such sense and experience, therefore, the law properly relies. This has many analogies and direct examples in cases, and we may cite Gundling v. Chicago, 177 U. S. 183; Red “C" Oil Manufacturing Co. v. North Carolina, 222 U. S. 380; Bridge Co. v. United States, 216 U. S. 177; Buttfield v. Stranahan, 192 U. S. 470. See also Waters-Pierce Oil Co. v. Texas, 212 U. S. 86. If this were not so, the many administrative agencies created by the state and National governments would be denuded of their utility and government in some of its most important exercises become impossible.

To sustain the attack upon the statute as a delegation of legislative power, complainant cites Harmon v. State; 66 Ohio St. 249. In that case a statute of the State committing to a certain officer the duty of issuing a license to one desiring to act as an engineer if “found trustworthy and competent,” was declared invalid because, as the court said, no standard was furnished by the General Assembly as to qualification, and no specification as to wherein the applicant should be trustworthy and competent, but all was “left to the opinion, finding and caprice of the examiner.” The case can be distinguished. Besides, later cases have recognized the difficulty of exact separation of the powers of government, and announced the principle that legislative power is completely exercised where the law “is perfect, final and decisive in all of its parts, and the discretion given only relates to its execution.” Cases are cited in illustration. .And the principle finds further illustration in the decisions of the courts of lesser authority but which exhibit the juridical sense of the State as to the delegation of powers.

Section 5 of the statute, which provides for a censor *247congress of the censor board and the boards of other States, is referred to in emphasis of complainant’s objection that the statute delegates legislative power. But, as complainant says, such congress is “at present nonexistent and nebulous,” and we are, therefore, not called upon to anticipate its action or pass upon the validity of § 5.

We may close this topic with a quotation of the very apt comment of the District Court upon the statute. After remarking that the language of the statute “might have been extended by descriptive and illustrative words,” but doubting that it would have been the more intelligible and that probably by being more restrictive might be more, easily thwarted, the court said: “In view of the range of subjects which complainants claim to have already compassed, not to speak of the natural development that will ensue, it would be next to impossible to devise language that would .be at once comprehensive and automatic.”

In conclusion we may observe that the Ohio statute gives a review by the courts of the State of the decision of the board of censors.

Decree affirmed.

15.2 Schenck v. United States 15.2 Schenck v. United States

249 U.S. 47
39 S.Ct. 247
63 L.Ed. 470
SCHENCK

v.

UNITED STATES. BAER v. SAME.

Nos. 437, 438.
Argued Jan. 9 and 10, 1919.
Decided March 3, 1919.

Page 48

          Messrs. Henry John Nelson and Henry Johns Gibbons, both of Philadelphia, Pa., for plaintiffs in error.

          Mr. John Lord O'Brian, of Buffalo, N. Y., for the United States.

           Mr. Justice HOLMES delivered the opinion of the Court.

          This is an indictment in three counts. The first charges a conspiracy to violate the Espionage Act of June 15, 1917, c. 30, tit. 1, § 3, 40 Stat. 217, 219 (Comp. St. 1918, § 10212c), by causing and attempting

Page 49

to cause insubordination, &c., in the military and naval forces of the United States, and to obstruct the recruiting and enlistment service of the United States, when the United States was at war with the German Empire, to-wit, that the defendant wilfully conspired to have printed and circulated to men who had been called and accepted for military service under the Act of May 18, 1917, c. 15, 40 Stat. 76 (Comp. St. 1918, §§ 2044a-2044k), a document set forth and alleged to be calculated to cause such insubordination and obstruction. The count alleges overt acts in pursuance of the conspiracy, ending in the distribution of the document set forth. The second count alleges a conspiracy to commit an offense against the United States, to-wit, to use the mails for the transmission of matter declared to be non-mailable by title 12, § 2, of the Act of June 15, 1917 (Comp. St. 1918, § 10401b), to-wit, the above mentioned document, with an averment of the same overt acts. The third count charges an unlawful use of the mails for the transmission of the same matter and otherwise as above. The defendants were found guilty on all the counts. They set up the First Amendment to the Constitution forbidding Congress to make any law abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, and bringing the case here on that ground have argued some other points also of which we must dispose.

          It is argued that the evidence, if admissible, was not sufficient to prove that the defendant Schenck was concerned in sending the documents. According to the testimony Schenck said he was general secretary of the Socialist party and had charge of the Socialist headquarters from which the documents were sent. He identified a book found there as the minutes of the Executive Committee of the party. The book showed a resolution of August 13, 1917, that 15,000 leaflets should be printed on the other side of one of them in use, to be mailed to men who had passed exemption boards, and for distribution. Schenck personally attended to the printing. On

Page 50

August 20 the general secretary's report said 'Obtained new leaflets from printer and started work addressing envelopes' &c.; and there was a resolve that Comrade Schenck be allowed $125 for sending leaflets through the mail. He said that he had about fifteen or sixteen thousand printed. There were files of the circular in question in the inner office which he said were printed on the other side of the one sided circular and were there for distribution. Other copies were proved to have been sent through the mails to drafted men. Without going into confirmatory details that were proved, no reasonable man could doubt that the defendant Schenck was largely instrumental in sending the circulars about. As to the defendant Baer there was evidence that she was a member of the Executive Board and that the minutes of its transactions were hers. The argument as to the sufficiency of the evidence that the defendants conspired to send the documents only impairs the seriousness of the real defence.

          It is objected that the documentary evidence was not admissible because obtained upon a search warrant, valid so far as appears. The contrary is established. Adams v. New York, 192 U. S. 585, 24 Sup. Ct. 372, 48 L. Ed. 575; Weeks v. United States, 232 U. S. 383, 395, 396, 34 Sup. Ct. 341, 58 L. Ed. 652, L. R. A. 1915B, 834, Ann. Cas. 1915C, 1177. The search warrant did not issue against the defendant but against the Socialist headquarters at 1326 Arch street and it would seem that the documents technically were not even in the defendants' possession. See Johnson v. United States, 228 U. S. 457, 33 Sup. Ct. 572, 57 L. Ed. 919, 47 L. R. A. (N. S.) 263. Notwithstanding some protest in argument the notion that evidence even directly proceeding from the defendant in a criminal proceeding is excluded in all cases by the Fifth Amendment is plainly unsound. Holt v. United States, 218 U. S. 245, 252, 253, 31 Sup. Ct. 2, 54 L. Ed. 1021.

          The document in question upon its first printed side recited the first section of the Thirteenth Amendment, said that the idea embodied in it was violated by the conscription act and that a conscript is little better than a

Page 51

convict. In impassioned language it intimated that conscription was despotism in its worst form and a monstrous wrong against humanity in the interest of Wall Street's chosen few. It said, 'Do not submit to intimidation,' but in form at least confined itself to peaceful measures such as a petition for the repeal of the act. The other and later printed side of the sheet was headed 'Assert Your Rights.' It stated reasons for alleging that any one violated the Constitution when he refused to recognize 'your right to assert your opposition to the draft,' and went on, 'If you do not assert and support your rights, you are helping to deny or disparage rights which it is the solemn duty of all citizens and residents of the United States to retain.' It described the arguments on the other side as coming from cunning politicians and a mercenary capitalist press, and even silent consent to the conscription law as helping to support an infamous conspiracy. It denied the power to send our citizens away to foreign shores to shoot up the people of other lands, and added that words could not express the condemnation such cold-blooded ruthlessness deserves, &c., &c., winding up, 'You must do your share to maintain, support and uphold the rights of the people of this country.' Of course the document would not have been sent unless it had been intended to have some effect, and we do not see what effect it could be expected to have upon persons subject to the draft except to influence them to obstruct the carrying of it out. The defendants do not deny that the jury might find against them on this point.

          But it is said, suppose that that was the tendency of this circular, it is protected by the First Amendment to the Constitution. Two of the strongest expressions are said to be quoted respectively from well-known public men. It well may be that the prohibition of laws abridging the freedom of speech is not confined to previous restraints, although to prevent them may have been the

Page 52

main purpose, as intimated in Patterson v. Colorado, 205 U. S. 454, 462, 27 Sup. Ct. 556, 51 L. ed. 879, 10 Ann. Cas. 689. We admit that in many places and in ordinary times the defendants in saying all that was said in the circular would have been within their constitutional rights. But the character of every act depends upon the circumstances in which it is done. Aikens v. Wisconsin, 195 U. S. 194, 205, 206, 25 Sup. Ct. 3, 49 L. Ed. 154. The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man in falsely shouting fire in a theatre and causing a panic. It does not even protect a man from an injunction against uttering words that may have all the effect of force. Gompers v. Buck's Stove & Range Co., 221 U. S. 418, 439, 31 Sup. Ct. 492, 55 L. ed. 797, 34 L. R. A. (N. S.) 874. The question in every case 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. It is a question of proximity and degree. When a nation is at war many things that might be said in time of peace are such a hindrance to its effort that their utterance will not be endured so long as men fight and that no Court could regard them as protected by any constitutional right. It seems to be admitted that if an actual obstruction of the recruiting service were proved, liability for words that produced that effect might be enforced. The statute of 1917 in section 4 (Comp. St. 1918, § 10212d) punishes conspiracies to obstruct as well as actual obstruction. If the act, (speaking, or circulating a paper,) its tendency and the intent with which it is done are the same, we perceive no ground for saying that success alone warrants making the act a crime. Goldman v. United States, 245 U. S. 474, 477 38 Sup. Ct. 166, 62 L. ed. 410. Indeed that case might be said to dispose of the present contention if the precedent covers all media concludendi. But as the right to free speech was not referred to specially, we have thought fit to add a few words.

          It was not argued that a conspiracy to obstruct the draft was not within the words of the Act of 1917. The

Page 53

words are 'obstruct the recruiting or enlistment service,' and it might be suggested that they refer only to making it hard to get volunteers. Recruiting heretofore usually having been accomplished by getting volunteers the word is apt to call up that method only in our minds. But recruiting is gaining fresh supplies for the forces, as well by draft as otherwise. It is put as an alternative to enlistment or voluntary enrollment in this act. The fact that the Act of 1917 was enlarged by the amending Act of May 16, 1918, c. 75, 40 Stat. 553, of course, does not affect the present indictment and would not, even if the former act had been repealed. Rev. St. § 13 (Comp. St. § 14).

          Judgments affirmed.

15.3 Gitlow v. New York 15.3 Gitlow v. New York

GITLOW v. PEOPLE OF NEW YORK.

No. 19.

Argued April 12, 1923;

reargued November 23, 1923.

Decided June 8, 1925.

*653Messrs. Walter Nelles and Walter H. Poliak, with whom Messrs. Albert De Silver and Charles S. Ascher were on the brief, for plaintiff in error.

Messrs W. J. Weatherbee, Deputy Attorney General of New York, and John Caldwell Myers, Assistant District Attorney of New York County, with whom Messrs. Carl Sherman, Attorney General of New York, Claude T. Dawes, Deputy Attorney General of New York, Joab H. Banton, District Attorney of New York County, and John F. O’Nell, Assistant District Attorney -of Now York County, were on the briefs, for defendant in error.

*654Mr. Justice Sanford

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Benjamin Gitlow was indicted in the Supreme Court New York, with three others, for the statutory crime of criminal anarchy. New York Penal Laws, §§ 160, 161.1 He was separately tried, convicted, and sentenced to imprisonment. The judgment was affirmed by the Appellate Division and by the Court of Appeals. 195 App. Div. 773; 234 N. Y. 132 and 539. The case is here on writ of error to the Supreme Court, to which the record was remitted. 260 U. S. 703.

The contention here is that the statute, by its terms and as applied in this case, is repugnant to the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Its material provisions are:

Ҥ 160. Criminal-anarchy defined. Criminal anarchy is the doctrine that organized government should be overthrown by force or violence, or by assassination of the executive head or of any of- the executive officials of government, or by any unlawful means. The advocacy of such doctrine either by word of mouth or writing is a felony.

“ § 161. Advocacy of criminal aiiarchy. Any person who:

“ 1. By word of'mouth or writing advocates, advises or teaches the duty, necessity or propriety of overthrowing or overturning organized government by force or. violence, or by assassination of the executive head or of any of the executive officials of government, or by any unlawful means; or,

“2: Prints, publishes, edits, issues or knowingly circulates, sells, distributes or publicly displays any book, paper, document, or written or printed matter in any *655form, containing or advocating, advising or teaching the doctrine that organized government should be overthrown by force, violence or any unlawful means .. : . ,

“ Is guilty of a felony and punishable ” by imprisonment or fine, or both. '

The indictment was in two' counts. The first charged that the defendant had advocated, advised and taught the duty, necessity and propriety of overthrowing and overturning organized government by force, violence and unlawful means, by certain writings therein set forth entitled “The Left Wing Manifesto”; thé second that he had printed, published and knowingly circulated and distributed a certain paper called “ The Revolutionary Agé,” containing the writings set forth in the first count advocating, advising and teaching the doctrine that organized government should be overthrown by force, violence and unlawful means.

The following facts were established on the trial by undisputed evidence and admissions: The defendant is a member of the Left Wing Section of the Socialist Party, a dissenting branch or faction of that party formed in opposition to its dominant policy of “ moderate Socialism.” Membership in both is- open to aliens as well as citizens. The Left Wing Section was organized nationally at a conference in New York City in June, 1919, attended by ninety delegates from twenty different States: The conference elected a National Council, of which thé defendant was a member, and left to it-the adoption of a “Manifesto.” This was published in The Revolutionary Age, the official organ of the. Left Wing. The defendant was on the board of managers of the paper and was its business, manager. Hé arranged for the printing of the paper and took to the printer the manuscript of- the first issue which contained the Left Wing Manifesto, and also a Communist Program and a Program of the Left- Wing that had been adopted by the conference. Sixteen thousand *656copies were printed, which were delivered at the premises in New York City used as the office of the Revolutionary Age and the headquarters of the Left Wing, and occupied by the defendant and other officials. These copies were paid for by the defendant, as business manager of the paper. Employees at this office wrapped and mailed out copies of the paper under the defendant’s direction; and copies were sold from this office. It was admitted that the defendant signed a card subscribing to the Manifesto and Program of the Left Wing, which all applicants were required to sign before being admitted to membership; that he went to different parts qf the State to speak to branches of the Socialist Party about the principles of the Left Wing and advocated their adoption; and that he was responsible for the Manifesto as it appeared, that “he knew of the publication, in a general way and he knew of its publication afterwards, and is responsible for its circulation.”

There was no evidence of any effect resulting from the publication and circulation of the Manifesto.

No witnesses were offered in behalf of the defendant.

Extracts from the Manifesto are set forth in the margin.2 Coupled with a review of the rise of Socialism, it *657condemned the dominant “ moderate Socialism ” for its recognition of the necessity of the democratic parliamentary state;.repudiated its policy of introducing Socialism by legislative measures; and advocated, in plain and unequivocal language, the necessity of accomplishing the “ Communist Revolution ” by a militant and “ revolutionary Socialism ”, based on “ the class struggle ” and mo*658bilizing the “ power of the proletariat in action,” through mass industrial revolts developing into, mass political strikes and “ revolutionary mass action ”, for the purpose of conquering and destroying the parliamentary state and establishing in its place, through a “ revolutionary dictatorship of the proletariat ”,' the system of Communist Socialism. The then recent strikes in Seattle and Winnipeg3 were cited as instances of a development already verging on revolutionary action ánd suggestive of prole*659tarian dictatorship, in which the strike-workers were trying to usurp the functions of municipal government ”; and revolutionary Socialism, it was urged, must use these mass industrial revolts to broaden the strike, make it 'general and militant, and develop it into mass political strikes and revolutionary mass action for the annihilation of the parliamentary state.

At the outset of the trial the defendant’s counsel objected to the introduction of any evidence under the *660indictment on the grounds that, as a matter of law,' the Manifesto “is not in contravention of the statute,” and that “ the statute is in contravention of ” the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. This objection was denied. They also moved, at the close of the evidence, to dismiss the indictment and direct an acquittal “ on the grounds stated in the first objection to evidence ”, *661.and again on the grounds that “ the indictment does not .charge an offense” and the evidence “does not show an offense.” These motion's were also dénied.

The court, among other things, charged the jury, in substance,- that they must determine what was the intent, purpose and fair meaning of the Manifesto; that its words must be taken in their ordinary meaning, as they would be understood by people whom it might reach; that a mere statement or analysis of social and economic facts and historical incidents, in the nature of an essay, accompanied by prophecy as to the future course of-events, but with no teaching, advice or advocacy of action, would not constitute the advocacy, advice or teaching of a doctrine for the overthrow of government within the meaning of the statute; that a mere statement that unlawful acts might accomplish such a purpose would be insufficient, unless there was a teaching, advising and advocacy of employing such unlawful acts for the purpose of overthrowing government; and that if the jury had a reason-, able doubt that the Manifesto did teach, advocate or advise the duty, necessity or propriety of using unlawful means for the overthrowing of organized government, the defendant was entitled to an acquittal.

The defendant’s counsel submitted two requests to charge which embodied in substance the statement that to constitute criminal anarchy within the meaning of the statute it was necessary that the language used or published should advocate, teach or advise the duty, necessity or propriety of doing “some definite or immediate apt or acts ” of force, violence or unlawfulness directed .toward the overthrowing of organized government. These were denied further than had been charged; Two other requests to charge embodied in substance the statement that to- constitute guilt the language used or published must be “reasonably and ordinarily calculated to incite certain persons” to acts of force, violence.or unlawfulness, *662with the object of overthrowing organized government. These were also denied.

The Appellate Division, after setting forth extracts from the Manifesto and referring to the- Left Wing and Communist Programs published in the same issue of the Revolutionary Age, said:4 “It is perfectly plain that the plan and purpose advocated .... contemplate the overthrow and destruction of the governments of the United States and of all the States, not by the free action of the majority of the . people through the ballot box in electing representatives to authorize a change of government by amending or changing the Constitution, . . . but by immediately organizing the industrial proletariat into militant Socialist unions and at the earliest opportunity through mass strike and force and violence, if necessary, compelling the government to cease to function, and then through a proletarian dictatorship, taking charge of and appropriating'all property and. administering it and governing through such dictatorship until such time as the proletariat is permitted to. administer and govern it. . . . The articles in question are .not a discussion of ideas and theories. They advocate a doctrine deliberately determined upon and planned for militantly disseminating a propaganda advocating that it is the. duty and necessity of the proletariat engaged in industrial pursuits’to organize to such.an extent that, by massed strike, th'e wheels of government may ultimately be stopped and the government overthrown . . .”

The Court of Appeals held that the Manifesto “ advocated the overthrow of this government by violence, or by unlawful means.”5 In.one of the opinions represent*663ing the views of a majority of the court,6 it was said: “It will be seen . . . that this defendant through the manifesto ... advocated the destruction of the state and the establishment of the dictatorship of the proletariat: . . . To advocate . . . the commission of this conspiracy or action by mass strike whereby government is crippled, the administration of justice paralyzed, and the health, morals and welfare of a community endangered, and this for the purpose of bringing about a revolution in the state, is to- advocate the overthrow of organized government by unlawful means.” In the other7 it was said: “As we read this manifesto . . . we feel entirely. clear that the jury were justified in rejecting the, view that it was a mere academic, and harmless discussion of the advantages of communism and advanced socialism” and “in regarding it as a justification and advocacy of action by one class which would destroy the rights of all other classes and overthrow the state itself by use of revolutionary mass strikes. It is true that there is no advocacy in specific terms of the use of . . . force or violence. There was no need to be. Some things are so commonly incident to others that they do not need to be mentioned when the underlying purpose is described.”

And both the Appellate Division and the Court of Appeals held the statute constitutional.

The specification of the errors relied on relates solely to the specific rulings of the trial court in the matters hereinbefore set out.8 The correctness of the verdict is not *664questioned, as the case was submitted to the jury. The sole contention here is, essentially, that as there was no evidence of any concrete result flowing from the publication of the Manifesto or of circumstances showing the, likelihood of such result, the statute as construed and applied by the trial court penalizes the mere utterance, as such, of doctrine ” having no quality of incitement, without regard either to the circumstances of its utterance or to the likelihood of unlawful sequences; and that, as the exercise of the right of free expression with relation to government is only punishable in circumstances involving likelihood of substantive evil,” the statute contravenes the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. The argument in support of this contention rests primarily upon the following propositions: 1st, That the “ liberty ” protected by the Fourteenth Amendment includes the liberty of speech and of the press; and 2nd, That while liberty of expression “ is not absolute,” it may be restrained only in circumstances where its exercise bears a causal relation with some substantive evil, consummated, attempted or likely,” and as the statute “ takes no account of circumstances,” it unduly restrains this liberty and is therefore unconstitutional

The precise question presented, and the only question which we can consider under this writ of error, then is, whether the statute, as construed and applied in this case by the state courts, deprived the defendant of his liberty of expression in violation of the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

The statute does not penalize the utterance or publication of abstract “ doctrine ” or academic discussion having no quality of incitement to any concrete action. It is not aimed against mere historical or philosophical essays. It does not restrain the advocacy of changes in the form of government by constitutional and lawful means. What it prohibits is language advocating, advising or teaching *665the overthrow of organized government by unlawful means. .These words imply urging to action. Advocacy is defined in the Century Dictionary as: “1. The act of pleading for, supporting, or recommending; active espousal.” It is not the abstract “ doctrine ” of overthrowing organized government by unlawful means which is denounced by the statute, but the advocacy of action for the accomplishment of that purpose. It was so construed and applied by the trial judge, who specifically charged the jury that: “A mere grouping of historical events and a prophetic deduction from them would neither constitute advocacy, advice or teaching of a doctrine for the overthrow of government by force, violence or unlawful means. [And] if it were a mere essay on the subject,’ as suggested by counsel, based upon deductions from alleged historical events, with no teaching, advice or advocacy of action, it would not constitute a violation of the statute. .. . .”

The Manifesto, plainly, is neither the statement of abstract doctrine nor, as suggested by counsel, mere prediction that industrial disturbances and revolutionary mass strikes will result spontanéously in an inevitable process, of evolution in the economic system. It advocates and urges in fervent language mass'action which shall progressively foment industrial disturbances and through political mass strikes and revolutionary mass action overthrow and destroy organized parliamentary government. It concludes with a call to action in these words:- The proletariat revolution and the Communist reconstruction of society — the struggle for these — is now indispensable. . . . The Com'munist International calls the proletariat of the world to the final struggle!”' This is not the expression of philosophical abstraction, thf mere prediction of future events; it' is* the language of direct incitement. /

The means advocated for bringing about the destruction of organized parliamentary government, namely, mass in*666dustrial revolts usurping the functions of municipal government, political mass strikes directed against the parliamentary state, and revolutionary mass action for its final destruction, necessarily imply the use of force and violence, and in their essential nature are inherently unlawful in a constitutional government of law and order. That the jury were warranted in finding that the Manifesto' advocated not merely the abstract doctrine of overthrowing organized government by force, violence and unlawful means, but action to that end, is clear.

For present purposes we may and do assume that freedom of speech and of the press — which are protected by the First Amendment from abridgment by Congress— are among the fundamental personal rights and “ liberties ” protected by the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment from impairment by the States. We do not regard the incidental statement in Prudential Ins. Co. v. Cheek, 259 U. S. 530, 543, that the Fourteenth Amendment imposes no' restrictions on the States concerning freedom of speech, as determinative of this question.9

It is a fundamental principle, long established, that the freedom of speech and of the press which is secured by the Constitution, does not confer an absolute right to speak or publish, without responsibility, whatever one may choose, or an unrestricted and unbridled license that gives immunity for every possible use of language and prevents the punishment of those who abuse this freedom. 2 Story on the Constitution, 5th ed., § 1580, p. 634; Robertson v. Baldwin, 165 U. S. 275, 281; Patterson v. Colorado, 205 U. S. 454, 462; Fox v. Washington, 236 *667U. S. 273, 276; Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47, 52; Frohwerk v. United States, 249 U. S. 204, 206; Debs v. United States, 249 U. S. 211, 213; Schaefer v. United States, 251 U. S. 466, 474; Gilbert v. Minnesota, 254 U. S. 325, 332; Warren v. United States, (C. C. A.) 183 Fed. 718, 721. Reasonably limited, it was said by Story in the passage cited, this freedom is an inestimable privilege in a free government; without such limitation, it-might become the scourge of the republic.

That a State in the exercise of its police power may punish those who abuse this freedom by utterances inimical to the public welfare, tending to corrupt public morals, incite to crime, or disturb the public peace, is not open tp question. Robertson v. Baldwin, supra, p. 281; Patterson v. Colorado, supra, p. 462; Fox v. Washington, supra, p. 277; Gilbert v. Minnesota, supra, p. 339; People v. Most, 171 N. Y. 423, 431; State v. Holm, 139 Minn. 267, 275; State v. Hennessy, 114 Wash. 351, 359; State v. Boyd, 86 N. J. L. 75, 79; State v. McKee, 73 Conn. 18, 27. Thus it was held by this Court in the Fox Case, that a State may punish publications advocating and encouraging .a breach of its criminal laws;, and, in the Gilbert Case, that a State may punish-utterances teaching or advocating that its citizens should not assist the United States in prosecuting or carrying on war with its public enemies.

And, for yet more imperative reasons, a State may punish utterances endangering the foundations of organized government and threatening its overthrow by unlawful means. These imperil its own existence as a constitutional State. Freedom of speech and press, said Story (supra) does not protect disturbances to the public peace or the attempt to subvert the government. It does not protect publications or teachings which tend to subvert or imperil the government or to impede or hinder it in the performance of its governmental duties. State v. *668Holm, supra, p. 275. It does not protect publications, prompting the overthrow of government by force; the punishment of those who publish articles which tend to destroy organized society being essential to the security of freedom and the stability of the State. People v. Most, supra, pp. 431, 432. And a State may penalize utterances which openly advocate the overthrow of the representative and constitutional form of government of the United States and the several States, by violence or other unlawful means. People v. Lloyd, 304 Ill. 23, 34. See also, State v. Tachin, 92 N. J. L. 269, 274; and People v. Steelik, 187 Cal. 361, 375. In short this freedom does not deprive a State of the primary and essential right of self preservation;-which, so long as human governments endure, they cannot be denied. Turner v. Williams, 194 U. S. 279, 294. In Toledo Newspaper Co. v. United States, 247 U. S. 402, 419, it was said: “The safeguarding and fructification of free and constitutional institutions is the very basis and mainstay upon which the freedom of the press rests, and that freedom, therefore, does not .and cannot be held to include the right virtually, to destroy such institutions.”

By enacting the present statute the State has determined, through its legislative body, that utterances advocating the overthrow of organized government by force, violence and unlawful means, are so inimical to the general welfare and involve such danger of substantive evil that they may be penalized in the exercise of its police power. That determination must be given great weight. Every presumption is to be indulged in favor of the validity of the statute. Mugler v. Kansas, 123 U. S. 623, 661. And the case is to be considered “in the light of the principle that the State is primarily the judge of regulations required in the interest of public safety and welfare; ” and that its police “ statutes may only be declared unconstitutional where they aré arbitrary or unreason*669able attempts to exercise authority vested in the State in the public interest.” Great Northern Ry. v. Clara City, 246 U. S. 434, 439. That utterances inciting to the overthrow of organized government by unlawful means, present a sufficient danger of .substantive evil to bring their punishment within the range of legislative discretion, is clear. Such utterances, by their very nature, involve danger to the public peace and to the security of the State. They threaten breaches of the peace and ultimate revolution. And the immediate danger is none the less real and substantial, because the effect of a given utterance cannot be accurately foreseen. The State cannot reasonably be required to measure the danger from every such utterance in the nice balance of a jeweler’s scale. A single revolutionary spark may kindle a fire that, smouldering for a time, may burst into a sweeping and destructive conflagration. It cannot be said that the State is acting arbitrarily or unreasonably when in the exercise of its judgment as to the measures necessary to protect the public peace and safety, it seeks to extinguish the spark without waiting until it has enkindled the flame or blazed into the conflagration. It cannot reasonably be required to .defer the adoption of measures for its own peace and safety until the revolutionary utterances lead to actual disturbances of the public peace or imminent and immediate danger of its own destruction; but it may, in the exercise of its judgment, suppress the threatened danger in its incipiency. In People v. Lloyd, supra, p. 35, it was aptly said: “ Manifestly, the legislature has authority to forbid the advocacy of a doctrine designed and intended to overthrow the government without waiting until there is a present and imminent danger of the success of the plan advocated. If the State were compelled to wait until the apprehended danger became certain, then its right to protect itself would come into being simultaneously with the overthrow of the government, when there *670would be neither' prosecuting officers nor courts for the enforcement of the law.”

We cannot hold that the present statute is an arbitrary or unreasonable exercise of the police power of the State unwarrantably, infringing the freedom of speech or press; and we must and do sustain its constitutionality.

This being so it may be applied to every utterance— not too trivial to be beneath the notice of the. law — which is of such a character and used with such intent and purpose as to bring it within the prohibition of the statute. This principle is illustrated in Fox v. Washington, supra, p. 277; Abrams v. United States, 250 U. S. 616, 624; Schaefer v. United States, supra, pp. 479, 480; Pierce v. United States, 252 U. S. 239, 250, 251;10 and Gilbert v. Minnesota, supra, p. 333. In other words, when the legislative body has determined generally, in the constitutional exercise of its discretion, that utterances of a certain kind involve such danger of substantive evil that they' may be punished, the question whether any specific utterance coming within the prohibited class is likely, in and of itself, to bring about the substantive evil, is not open to consideration. It is sufficient that the statute itself be constitutional and that the use of the language comes within its prohibition.

It is clear that the question in such cases is entirely different from that involved, in those cases where the statute merely prohibits certain acts involving the danger of substantive evil, without any reference to language itself, ,and it is sought to apply its provisions to language *671used by the defendant for the purpose of bringing about the prohibited results. There, if it be contended that the statute cannot be applied to the language .used by the defendant because of its protection by.the freedom of speech or press, it must necessarily be found, as an original question, without any previous determination by the legislative body, whether the specific language used involved such likelihood of bringing about the substantive evil as to deprive it of the constitutional protection. In such cases it has been held that the general provisions of the. statute may be constitutionally applied to the specific utterance of the defendant if its natural tendency and probable effect was to bring about the substantive evil which the legislative body might prevent. Schenck v. United States, supra, p. 51; Debs v. United States, supra, pp. 215, 216. And the general statement in the Schenck Case (p. 52) that the“ question in every case is whether the words 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,” — upon which great reliance is placed in the defendant’s argument — was manifestly intended, as shown by the context, to apply only in cases of this class, and has no application to those like the present, where the legislative body itself has previously determined the danger of substantive evil arising from utterances of a specified character.

The defendant’s brief does not separately discuss any of the rulings of the trial court. It is only necessary to say that, applying the general rules already stated, we find that none of them involved any invasion of the constitutional rights of the defendant. It was not necessary, within the meaning of the statute, that the defendant should have advocated “ some definite or immediate act or acts ” of force, violence or unlawfulness. It was sufficient if such acts were advocated in general terms; and it was not essential that their immediate execution should *672have been advocated. Nor was it nécessary that the language should have been “reasonably and ordinarily calculated to incite certain persons ” to acts of force, violence or unlawfulness. The advocacy need not be addressed to specific persons. Thus, the publication and circulation of a newspaper article may be an encouragement or endeavor to persuade to murder, although not addressed to any person in particular. Queen v. Most, L. R., 7 Q, B. D. 244.

We need not enter upon a consideration of the English common law rule of seditious libel or the Federal Sedition Act of 1798, to Which reference is made in the defendant’s brief. These are so unlike the present statute, that we think the decisions under them cast no helpful light upon the questions here.

And finding, for the reasons stated, that the statute is not in itself unconstitutional, and that it has not been applied in the present case in derogation of any constitutional right, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is

Affirmed.

Mr. Justice Holmes, dissenting.

Mr. Justice Brandéis and I are of opinion that this judgment should be reversed. The general principle of free speech, it seems to me, must be taken to be included in the Fourteenth Amendment, in view of the scope that has been given to the word ‘ liberty ’. as there used, although perhaps it may be accepted with a somewhat larger latitude of interpretation than is allowed to Congress by the sweeping language that governs or ought to govern the laws of the United States. If I am right, then I think that the criterion sanctioned by the full Court in Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47, 52, applies. “ The question in every case 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 substan*673tive evils that [the State] has a right to prevent.” It is true that in my opinion this criterion was departed from in Abrams v. United States, 250 U. S. 616, but the convictions that I expressed in that case are too deep for it to be possible for me as yet to believe that it and Schaefer v. United States, 251 U. S. 466, have settled the law. If what I think the correct test is applied, it is manifest that there was no present danger of an attempt to overthrow the government by force on the part of the admittedly small minority who shared the defendant’s views. It is said that, this manifesto was more than a theory, that it was an incitement. Every idea is an incitement. It offers itself for belief and if believed it is acted on unless some other belief outweighs it or some failure of energy stifles the movement at its birth. The only difference between the expression of an opinion and an incitement in the narrower sense is the speaker’s enthusiasm for the result. Eloquence may set fire to reason. But whatever may be thought of the redundant discourse before us it had no chance of starting a present conflagration. If in the long run the beliefs expressed in proletarian dictatorship are destined to be accepted by the dominant forces of the community, the only meaning of free speech is that they should be given their chance and have their way.

If the publication of this document had been laid as an attempt to induce an uprising against government at once and not at some indefinite time in the future it would have presented a different question. The object would have been one with which the law might deal, subject to the doubt whether there was any danger that the publication could produce any result, or in other words, whether it was not futile and too remote from possible consequences. But the indictment alleges the publication and nothing more.

15.4 Stromberg v. California 15.4 Stromberg v. California

STROMBERG v. CALIFORNIA.

No. 584.

Argued April 15, 1931.

Decided May 18, 1931.

*360Mr. John Beardsley for appellant.

Mr. John D. Richer, Deputy Attorney General of California, with whom Mr. U. S. Webb, Attorney General, was on the brief, for appellee.

Mr. Chief Justice Hughes

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The appellant was convicted in the Superior Court of San Bernardino County, California, for violation of *361§ 403-a of the Penal Code of that State. That section provides:

“Any person who displays a red flag, banner or badge or any flag, badge, banner, or device of any color or form whatever in any public placé or in any meeting place or public assembly, or from or on any house, building or window as a sign, symbol or emblem of opposition to organized government or as an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action or as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character is guilty of a felony.”

The information, in its first count, charged that the appellant and other defendants, at the time and place set forth, “ did wilfully, unlawfully and feloniously display a red flag and banner in a public place and in a meeting place as a sign, symbol and emblem of opposition to organized government and as an invitation and stimulus to anarchistic action and as an aid to propaganda that is and was of a seditious character.”

The information contained a second count charging conspiracy, but this need not be considered, as the conviction on that count was set aside by the'state court. The appellant alone was convicted on the first count.

On the argument of á general demurrer to the information, the appellant contended, as was permitted by the practice in California, that the statute was invalid because repugnant to the Fourteenth Amendment of the Federal Constitution. The demurrer was overruled, and the appellant pleaded not" guilty. Conviction followed, motions for a new trial and in arrest of judgment were denied, and on appeal to the District Court of Appeal the judgment was affirmed. (People v. Mintz, 290 Pac. 93.) Petition for a hearing by the Supreme Court of California was denied, and an appeal has been taken to this Court.

This Court granted an order permitting the appellant to prosecute the appeal in forma pauperis and, for the *362purpose of shortening the record, a stipulation of facts has been presented on behalf of the appellant and the Attorney General of the State. It appears that the appellant, a young woman of nineteen, a citizen of the United States by birth, was one of the supervisors of a summer camp for children, between ten and fifteen years of age, in the foothills of the San Bernardino mountains. Appellant led the children in their daily study, teaching them history and economies. “Among other things, the children were taught class consciousness, the solidarity of the workers, and the theory that the workers of the world are of one blood and brothers all.” Appellant was a member of the Young Communist League, an international organization affiliated with the Communist Party. The charge against her concerned a daily ceremony at the camp, in which the appellant supervised and directed the children in raising a red flag, “ a camp-made reproduction of the flag of Soviet Russia, which was also the flag of the Communist Party in the United States.” In connection with the flag-raising, there was a ritual at which the children stood at salute and recited a pledge of allegiance “ to the worker’s red flag, and to the cause for which it stands; one aim throughout our lives, freedom for the working class.” The stipulation further shows that “ a library w7as maintained at the camp containing a large number of books, papers and pamphlets, including much radical communist propaganda, specimens of which are quoted in the opinion of the state court.” These quotations abundantly demonstrated that the books and pamphlets contained incitements to violence and to “armed uprisings,” teaching “the indispensability of a desperate, bloody, destructive war as the immediate task of the coming action.” Appellant admitted ownership of a number of the books, some of which bore her name. It appears from the stipulation that none of these books or pamphlets were used in the teaching at the camp. *363With respect to the conduct of the appellant, the stipulation contains the following statement: “ She ” (the appellant) “testified, however, that none of the literature in the library, and particularly none of the exhibits containing radical communist propaganda, was in any way brought to the attention of any child or of any other person, and that no word of violence or anarchism or sedition was employed in her teaching of the children. There was no evidence to the contrary.”

The charge in the information, as to the purposes for which the flag was raised, was laid conjunctively, uniting the three purposes which the statute condemned. But in the instructions to the jury, the trial court followed the express terms of the statute and treated the described purposes disjunctively, holding that the appellant should be convicted if the flag was displayed for any one of the three purposes named. The instruction was as follows:

“ In this connection you are instructed that if the jury should believe beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendants, or either of them, displayed, or caused to be displayed, a red flag, banner, or badge, or any flag, badge, banner, or device of any color or form whatever in any public place or in any meeting place, as charged in count one. of the information, and if you further believe from the evidence beyond a reasonable doubt that said flag, badge, banner, or device was displayed, or caused to be displayéd, as a sign, symbol, or emblem of opposition to organized government, or was an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action, or was in aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character, you will find such defendants guilty as charged in count one of the information.

“ In this connection you are instructed that if you believe a red flag, such as herein described, was displayed in either of the places mentioned in said information, that it is only necessary for the prosecution to prove to you, beyond a reasonable doubt, that said flag was displayed *364for any one or more of the three purposes mentioned in the information; in other words, if the prosecution should prove to you beyond a reasonable doubt that the red flag, such as herein described, was displayed at the place or either of said places and for the purposes and objects as alleged in said information, it is only necessary for the prosecution to prove to you beyond a reasonable doubt that said flag was displayed for only one or more of the three purposes alleged in said information, and it is not necessary that the evidence show, beyond a reasonable doubt, that said red flag was displayed for all three purposes charged in said information. Proof, beyond a reasonable doubt, of any one or more of the three purposes alleged in said information is sufficient to justify a verdict of guilty under count one of said information.”

Appellant, before the District Court of Appeal, accepted this instruction as correct and waived any claim of error on that account. But appellant continued her challenge of the constitutionality of the statute, and the court on appeal entertained her contention and decided the constitutional question against her. In the District Court of Appeal there were three justices, and the concurrence of two justices was necessary to pronounce a judgment. Cal. Const., Art. VI, § 4 (a); Cal. Stats., 1929, c. 691, pp. 1202, 1203. Two opinions were delivered, one by a single justice, and another by the remaining two justices. The three justices concurred with respect to the affirmance of the conviction of the appellant under the first count, and there was a dissent only in relation to the proceedings on the reversal of the judgment under the second count for conspiracy, a point not in question here. The opinions make it clear that the appellant insisted that, under the Fourteenth Amendment, the statute was invalid as being “ an unwarranted limitation on the right of free speech.”

As the trial court had treated the three purposes of the statute disjunctively, and the appellant had accepted that *365construction, we think that the only fair interpretation of her contention is that it related to the validity, not merely of the statute taken as a whole, but of each one of the three clauses separately relied upon by the State in order to obtain a conviction. Her concession as to the interpretation of the statute emphasizes, rather than destroys, that contention. The opinion of the two concurring justices explicitly states: “She” (the appellant) “ directs her argument to the phrase in section 403a of the Penal Code ‘ of opposition to organized government.’ ” Thus directing her argument, we do not think that it can properly be said that the appellant having agreed that, according to the terms of the statute, her conviction could rest exclusively upon that ground,- was not contending that the statute was invalid to the extent that it was so applied.

We are not left in doubt as to the construction placed by the state court upon each of the clauses of the statute. The first purpose described, that is, relating to the display of a flag or banner “ as a sign, symbol or emblem of opposition to organized government,” is discussed by the two concurring justices. After referring, in the language above quoted, to the constitutional question raised by the appellant with respect to this clause, these justices said in their opinion [p. 97] :

“ If opposition to organized government were the only act prohibited by this section we might be forced to agree with appellant. ‘ Opposition ’ is a word broad in its meaning. It has been defined as follows:

“‘The act of opposing or resisting; antagonism. The state of being opposite or opposed; antithesis; also, a position confronting another or a placing in contrast. That which is, or furnishes an obstacle to some result; as, the stream flows without opposition. The political party opposed to the ministry or administration; often used adjectively as, the opposition press.’

*366“It might be construed to include the peaceful and orderly opposition to a government as organized and controlled by one political party by those of another political party equally high minded and patriotic, which did not agree with the one in power. It might also be construed to include peaceful and orderly opposition to government by legal means and within constitutional limitations. Progress depends on new thought and the development of original ideas. All change is, to a certain extent, achieved by the opposition of the new to the old, and in so far as it is within the law, such peaceful opposition is guaranteed to our people and is recognized as a symbol of independent thought containing the promise of progress. It may be permitted as a means of political evolution, but not of revolution.”

With respect to the second purpose described in the statute, the display of a flag or banner “ as an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action,” the concurring justices quoted accepted definitions and judicial decisions as to the meaning of “anarchistic action.” These authorities, as set forth and approved in the opinion, show clearly that the term was regarded by the state court as referring to the overthrow by force and violence of the existing law and order, to the use of “ unlawful, violent and felonious means to destroy property and human life.” The conclusion was thus stated: “ It is therefore clear that when section 403a of the Penal Code prohibits a display of a red flag as an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action it prohibits acts which have a well-defined and well-settled meaning in the law of our land, a teaching which if allowed to be put into force and effect would mean revolution in its most dreaded form.”

The state court further gave its interpretation of the third clause of the statute, that is, in relation to the display of a flag or banner “ as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character.” Both opinions dealt with the *367meaning of this clause. Thus in one opinion it is said: “Appellants’ counsel concedes that sedition laws which 'interdict against the use of force or violence’ are consistently upheld by the courts, and all of the authorities cited by him support that proposition. . . . Sedition is defined as the stirring up of disorder in the State, tending toward treason, but lacking an overt act. Certainly the '* advocacy of force or violence ’ in overturning the government of a State falls within that definition.” .The other opinion takes a similar view. Assuming that the local statute is thus construed by the state court as referring to the advocacy of force or violence in the overthrow of government, we do not find it necessary, for the purposes of the present case, to review the historic controversy with respect to “ sedition laws ” or to consider the question as to the validity of a statute dealing broadly and vaguely with what is termed seditious conduct, without any limiting interpretation either by the statute itself or by judicial construction.

Having reached these conclusions as to the meaning of the three clauses of the statute, and doubting the constitutionality of the first clause, the state court rested its decision upon the remaining clauses. The basis of the decision, as more fully stated in the opinion of the two concurring justices, was this: “The constitutionality of the phrase of this section, ' of opposition to organized government ’ is questionable. This phrase can be eliminated from the section without materially changing its purposes. The section is complete without it, and with it eliminated it can be upheld as a constitutional enactment by. the Legislature of the State of California.” Accordingly, disregarding the first clause of the statute, and upholding the other clauses, the conviction of the appellant was sustained.

We are unable to agree with this disposition of the case. The verdict against the appellant was a general *368one. It did not specify the ground upon which it rested. As there were three purposes set forth in the statute, and the jury were instructed that their verdict might be given with respect to any one of them, independently considered, it is impossible to say under which clause of the statute the conviction was obtained. If any one of these clauses, which the state court has held to be separable, was invalid, it cannot be determined upon this record that the appellant was not convicted under that clause. It may be added that this is far from being a merely academic proposition, as it appears, upon an examination of the original record filed with this Court, that the State’s attorney upon the trial emphatically urged upon the jury that they could convict the appellant under the first clause alone, without regard to the other clauses. It follows that instead of its being permissible to hold, with the state court, that the verdict could be sustained if any one of the clauses of the statute were found to be valid, the necessary conclusion from the manner in which the case was sent to the jury is that, if any of the clauses in question is invalid under the Federal Constitution, the conviction cannot be upheld.

We are thus brought to the question whether any one of the three clauses, as construed by the state court, is upon its face repugnant to the Federal Constitution so that it could not constitute a .lawful foundation for a criminal prosecution. The principles to be applied have been clearly set forth in our former decisions. It has been determined that the conception of liberty under the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment embraces the right of free speech. Gitlow v. New York, 268 U. S. 652, 666; Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 362, 371, 373; Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U. S. 380, 382. The right is not an absolute one, and the State in the exercise of its police power may punish the abuse of this freedom. There is no question but that the State may thus pro*369vide for the punishment of those who indulge in utterances which incite to violence and crime and threaten the overthrow of organized government by unlawful means. There is no constitutional immunity for such conduct abhorrent to our institutions. Gitlow v. New York, supra; Whitney v. California, supra. We have no reason to doubt the validity of the second and third clauses of the statute as construed by the state court to relate to such incitements to violence.

The question is thus narrowed to that of the validity of the first clause, that is, with respect to the display of the flag “as a sign, symbol or emblem of opposition to organized government,” and the construction which the state court has placed upon this clause removes every element of doubt. The state court recognized the indefiniteness and ambiguity of the clause. The court considered that it might be construed as embracing conduct which the State could not constitutionally prohibit. Thus it was said that the clause “ might be construed to include the peaceful and orderly opposition to a government as organized and controlled by one political party by those of another political party equally high minded and patriotic, which did not agree with the one in power. It might also be construed to include peaceful and orderly opposition to government by legal means and within constitutional limitations.” The maintenance of the opportunity for free political discussion to the end that government may be responsive to the will, of the people and that changes may be obtained by lawful means, an opportunity essential to the security of the Republic, is a fundamental principle of our constitutional system. A statute which upon its face, and as authoritatively construed, is so vague and'indefinite as to permit the punishment of the fair use of this opportunity is repugnant to the guaranty of liberty contained in the Fourteenth Amendment. The first *370clause of the statute being invalid upon its face, the conviction of the appellant, which so far as the record discloses may have rested upon that clause exclusively, must be set aside.

As for this reason the case must be remanded for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion, and other facts may be adduced in such proceedings, it is not necessary to deal with the questions which have been argued at the bar as to the constitutional validity of the second and third clauses of the statute, not simply upon their face, but as applied in the instant case; that is, to consider the conclusions of fact warranted by the evidence, either as shown by the original record filed with the Court on the present appeal, or as disclosed by the stipulation, .as to the import of which the parties do not agree.

Judgment reversed.

Me. Justice McReynolds,

dissenting.

This Court often has announced, and scores, perhaps hundreds, of times has applied the rule, that it may not pass upon any question in a cause coining from a state court which the record fails to show was there determined or duly presented for determination.

The only federal matter ruled upon by the court below (District Court of Appeals), and the only one there submitted, arose upon the general demurrer to the Information. Did this adequately set forth an offense for which the defendant could be punished without violating the Fourteenth Amendment?

Section 403a, Penal Code of California, provides—

“Any person who displays a red flag, banner or badge or any flag, badge, banner, or device of any color or form whatever in any public place or in any meeting place or public assembly, or from or on any house, building or window as a sign, symbol or emblem of opposition to organ*371ized government or as an invitation or stimulus, to anarchistic action or as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character is guilty of a felony.”

And the Information charged that the plaintiff “did wilfully, unlawfully, and feloniously display a red flag and banner in a public place and a meeting place ás a sign, symbol, and an emblem of opposition to organized government and as an invitation and stimulus t.o anarchistic action and as an aid to propaganda that is and was of a seditious character.”

Below, counsel definitely “ stated that he was satisfied that the instructions [to the jury] were correct, and waived any claim of error on that account.” Accordingly, decision was not requested upon any question arising out of the charge; no such question was decided. The instructions were properly disregarded and are now unimportant.

The sole matter of a federal nature considered by the Court of Appeals was the claim that the provisions of § 403a of the Penal Code were in conflict with the Fourteenth Amendment. It held the statute divisible and that as petitioner stood charged with violating all of the inhibitions therein, some of which were certainly good, the conviction could not be upset even if one paragraph were invalid. The conclusion seems plainly right and, I think, the challenged judgment should be affirmed.

Mr. Justice Butler,

dissenting.

The Court decides that, in so far as § 403a declares it a crime to display a flag for the first purpose specified, “ as an emblem of opposition to organized government,” the section denies right of free speech, and the court holds that right to be included in the concept of “ liberty ” safeguarded against state action by the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. It sustains the parts for*372bidding the public, display of a flag “ as an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action or as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character.” The count on which the conviction rests charges that the appellant displayed a flag in ways and for all the purposes denounced by the section. Assuming all the clauses of the section to be valid, the display of a flag for the purpose specified in any one of them would be sufficient to warrant conviction. The Court holds the first clause invalid and, finding that the judgment may have rested upon that, clause exclusively, sets aside the conviction.

1. I am of opinion that the record affirmatively shows that appellant was not convicted for violation of the first clause.

Shortly prior to the trial of this case, the supreme court of California held invalid a city ordinance purporting to make unlawful the public display of a flag or emblem of an organization espousing for the government of the people of the United States principles antagonistic to our Constitution or form of government. In re Hartman, 182 Cal. 447; 188 Pac. 548. Under that decision the California lower courts were bound to hold invalid the first clause of § 403a construed as peaceable opposition to organized government. And the record shows that in the case before us counsel and the trial court had that decision in mind.

The instruction quoted and relied on in the opinion here is No. 17, requested by the state’s attorney. The opinion construes that instruction as if it stood alone. It does not stand alone. Defendant’s attorney did not object or except to it but on the other hand requested, and the court gave, other instructions. They are Nos. 10 and 11 as follows:

“You are instructed that the inhabitants of the United States have both individually and collectively the right to advocate peaceable changes in our constitution, laws, *373or form.' of government, although such changes may be based upon theories or principles of government antagonistic to those which now serve as their basis.

“You are instructed that under the Constitution and laws of the United States, and of this State, an organization peaceably advocating changes in our constitution, laws or form of government, although such changes may be based upon theories or principles of government antagonistic to those which now serve as their basis, may adopt a flag or emblem signifying the purpose of such organization, and that the display or possession of such flag or emblem cannot be made an unlawful act.”

The effect of the three instructions here referred to was definitely to direct the jury that defendant had the right without limit to advocate peaceable changes in our government, that under our constitution and laws an organization peaceably advocating changes in our government, no matter to what extent or upon what theories or principles, may adopt a flag signifying the purposes of such organization, and that it is impossible to make that unlawful.

2. The record fails to show that, aside from having the trial judge give to the jury these instructions suggested by her, defendant did in any manner separately challenge in the trial court the validity of the first clause.

That question could not have been raised by the demurrer to. the information because it charged conjunctively the three purposes that are disjunctively denounced by the section. And the failure of defendant’s counsel in any manner to object or except to state’s instruction No. 17 coupled with his statement before the district court of appeal (People v. Mintz, 290 Pac. 93) that “he was satisfied that the instructions were correct, and waived any claim of error on that account ” indubitably shows that he was of opinion that the giving of defendant’s instructions above quoted eliminated all possibility of con*374viction for the display of a flag as an emblem of peaceable opposition to organized government.

3. And, if defendant at the trial did assail the first clause, that contention is shown by the opinion of the court below to have been definitely waived.

It is there stated that (p. 95): The part of section 403a necessary to be considered in passing upon the questions raised by the appeal, reads as follows: 'Any person who displays a red flag, ... in any meeting place ... as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character is guilty of a felony.” That statement is closely followed by the one showing that defendant’s counsel was satisfied with the instructions.

These definite statements in the opinion were agreed to by the three judges constituting the court. They are not in any manner negatived or impaired by the concurring opinion of two of the judges. Pp. 96-102. The first clause was discussed in the concurring opinion only for the purpose of showing that, notwithstanding its questionable validity, the rest of the section should be held valid. Clearly these judges did not intend to sustain a conviction resting on the clause so questioned in their opinion.

The full substance of all they say that has any bearing follows (p. 97): “ Appellant’s contention that section 403a of the Penal Code is unconstitutional on the ground that it is’an unwarranted limitation on the right of free speech guaranteed to the people by the Constitutions of the United States and of the State of California, deserves serious consideration. She directs her argument to the phrase in section 403a of the Penal Code; ' of opposition to organized government.’ If opposition to organized government were the only act prohibited by this section we might be forced to agree with appellant.” After some pages of discussion they conclude as to the second clause *375(p. 99): “ It is therefore clear that when section 403a of the Penal Code prohibits a display of a red flag as an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action it prohibits acts which have a well-defined and well-settled meaning in the law of our land, a teaching which if allowed to be put into force and effect would mean revolution in its most dreaded form.”

Turning then to a consideration of the third clause, they say: “ The section in question also prohibits the display of a red flag as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious nature.” After discussion, they conclude (p. 99) that: “The term ‘sedition’ and the word ‘seditious’ have well-defined meanings in law. That the teaching of sedition against our Government can be and has long been prohibited needs no further citation of authorities.”

Then summing up as to the seeond and third clauses, they say (p. 99): “As we view the provisions of section 403a of the Penal Code, its prohibition of displaying a red flag ‘ as an invitation or stimulus to anarchistic action, or as an aid to propaganda that is of a seditious character’ is certain, and a proper and constitutional and legislative enactment. It is not contrary to the provisions of either the State or Federal Constitutions guaranteeing freedom of speech to our people.”

They refer again to the first clause: “ The constitutionality of the phrase of this section, ‘ of opposition to organized government ’ is questionable.” And, disclosing the purpose of the reference, they say: “This phrase can be eliminated from the section without materially changing its purposes. The section is complete without it, and with it eliminated it can be upheld as a constitutional enactment by the Legislature of the State of California.”

I am of opinion that fair consideration of both opinions in all their parts makes it very clear that defendant did not claim below that under the charge the jury might or could *376have found her guilty of violating the first clause of the section, that the district court of appeal did not decide or consider whether conviction under that clause was or could lawfully be had, and that the validity of the first clause was discussed in the concurring opinion only upon the question whether, if that part of the section were unconstitutional, the other parts must also fail.

4. It seems to me that on this record the Court is not called on to decide whether the mere display of a flag as the emblem of a purpose, whatever its sort, is speech within the meaning of the constitutional protection of speech and press or to decide whether such freedom is a part of the liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment or whether the anarchy that is certain to follow a successful opposition to organized government ” is not a sufficient reason to hold that all activities to that end are outside the “ liberty ” so protected. Cf. Prudential Ins. Co. v. Cheek, 259 U. S. 530. Gitlow v. New York, 268 U. S. 652, 666. Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357. Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U. S. 380.

I am of opinion that the judgment below should be affirmed.

15.5 Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson 15.5 Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson

NEAR v. MINNESOTA ex rel. OLSON, COUNTY ATTORNEY.

No. 91.

Argued January 30, 1931.

Decided June 1, 1931.

*699Mr. Weymouth Kirkland, with whom Messrs. Thomas E. Latimer, Howard Ellis, and Edward C. Caldwell were on the brief, for appellant.

Messrs. James E. Markham, Assistant Attorney General of Minnesota, and Arthur L. Markve, Assistant County Attorney of Hennepin County, with whom Messrs. Henry N. Benson, Attorney General, John F. Bonner, Assistant Attorney General, Ed. J. Goff, County Attorney, and William C. Larson, Assistant County Attorney, were on the brief, for appellee.

*701Mr. Chief Justice Hughes

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Chapter 285 of the Session Laws of Minnesota for the year 19251 provides for the abatement, as a public nuisance, of a malicious, scandalous and defamatory news*702paper, magazine or other periodical.” Section one of the Act is as follows:

“ Section 1. Any person who, as an individual, or as a member or employee of a firm, or association or organization, or as an officer, director, member or employee of a corporation, shall be engaged in the business of regularly or customarily producing, publishing or circulating, having in possession, selling or giving away.

(a) an obscene, lewd and lascivious newspaper, magazine, or other periodical, or

(b) a malicious, scandalous and defamatory newspaper, magazine or other periodical,

is guilty of a nuisance, and all persons guilty of such nuisance may be enjoined, as hereinafter provided.

“ Participation in such business shall constitute a commission of such nuisance and render the participant liable and subject to the proceedings, orders and judgments provided for in this Act. Ownership, in whole or in part, directly or indirectly, of any such periodical, or of any stock or interest in any corporation or organization which owns the same in whole or in part, or which publishes the same, shall constitute such participation.

“In actions brought under (b) above, there shall be available the defense that the truth was published with good motives and for justifiable ends and in such actions the plaintiff shall not have the right to report (sic) to issues or editions of periodicals taking place more than three months before the commencement of the action.”

Section two provides that whenever any such nuisance is committed or exists, the County Attorney of any county where any such periodical is published or circulated, or, in case of his failure or refusal to proceed upon written request in good faith of a reputable citizen, the Attorney General, or upon like failure or refusal of the latter, any citizen of the county, may maintain an action in the district court of the county in the name of the State to enjoin *703perpetually the persons committing or maintaining any such nuisance from further committing or maintaining it. Upon such evidence as the court shall deem sufficient, a temporary injunction may be granted. The defendants have the right to plead by demurrer or answer, and the plaintiff may demur or reply as in other cases.

The action, by section three, is to be “ governed by the practice and procedure applicable to civil actions for injunctions,” and after trial the court may enter judgment permanently enjoining the defendants found guilty of violating the Act from continuing the violation and, “ in and by such judgment, such nuisance may be wholly abated.” The court is empowered, as in other cases of contempt, to punish disobedience to a temporary or permanent injunction by fine of not more than $1,000 or by imprisonment in the county jail for not more than twelve months.

Under this statute, clause (b), the County Attorney of Hennepin County brought this action to enjoin the publication of what was described as a “ malicious, scandalous and defamatory newspaper, magazine and periodical,” known as “The Saturday Press,” published by the defendants in the city of Minneapolis. The complaint alleged that the defendants, on September 24, 1927, and on eight subsequent dates in October and November, 1927, published and circulated editions of that periodical which were “largely devoted to malicious, scandalous and defamatory articles” concerning Charles G. Davis, Frank W. Brunskill, the Minneapolis Tribune, the Minneapolis Journal, Melvin C. Passolt, George E. Leach, the Jewish Race, the members of the Grand Jury of Hennepin County impaneled in November, 1927, and then holding office, and other persons, as more fully appeared in exhibits annexed to the complaint, consisting of copies of the articles described and constituting 327 pages of the record. While the complaint did not so allege, it *704appears from the briefs of both parties that Charles G. Davis was a special law enforcement officer employed by a civic organization, that George E. Leach was Mayor of Minneapolis, that Frank W. Brunskill was its Chief of Police, and that Floyd B. Olson • (the relator in this action) was County Attorney.

Without attempting to summarize the contents of the voluminous exhibits attached to the complaint, we deem it sufficient to say that the articles charged in substance that a Jewish gangster was in control of gambling, bootlegging and racketeering in Minneapolis, and that law enforcing officers and agencies were not energetically performing their duties. Most of the charges were directed against the Chief of Police; he was charged with gross neglect of duty, illicit relations with gangsters, and with participation in graft. The County Attorney was charged with knowing the existing conditions and with failure to take adequate measures to remedy them. The Mayor was accused of inefficiency and dereliction. One member of the grand jury was stated to be in sympathy with the gangsters. A special grand jury and a special prosecutor were demanded to deal with the situation in general, and, in particular, to investigate an attempt to assassinate one Guilford, one of the original defendants, who, it appears from the articles, was shot by gangsters after the first issue of the periodical had been published. There is no question but that the articles made serious accusations against the public officers named and others in connection with the prevalence of crimes and the failure to expose and punish them.

At the beginning of the action, on November 22, 1927, and upon the verified complaint, an order was made directing the defendants to show cause why a temporary injunction should not issue and meanwhile forbidding the defendants to publish, circulate or have in their possession any editions of the periodical from September *70524, 1927, to November 19, 1927, inclusive, and from publishing, circulating, or having in their possession, “any future editions of said The Saturday Press” and “any publication, known by any other name whatsoever containing malicious, scandalous and defamatory matter of the kind alleged in plaintiff’s complaint herein or otherwise.”

The defendants demurred to the complaint upon the ground that it did not state facts sufficient to constitute a cause of action, and on this demurrer challenged the constitutionality of the statute. The District Court overruled the demurrer and certified the question of constitutionality to the Supreme Court of the State. The Supreme Court sustained the statute (174 Minn. 457; 219 N. W. 770), and it is conceded by the appellee that the Act was thus held to be valid over the objection that it violated not only the state constitution but also the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States.

Thereupon, the defendant Near, the present appellant, answered the complaint. He averred that he was the sole owner and proprietor of the publication in question. He admitted the publication of the articles in the issues described in the complaint but denied that they were malicious, scandalous or defamatory as alleged. He expressly invoked the protection of the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. The case then came on for trial. The plaintiff offered in evidence the verified complaint, together with the issues of the publication in question, which were attached to the complaint as exhibits. The defendant objected to the introduction of the evidence, invoking the constitutional provisions to which his answer referred. The objection was overruled, no further evidence was presented, and the plaintiff rested. The defendant then rested, without offering evidence. The plaintiff moved that the court direct the issue of a permanent injunction, and this was done,

*706The District Court made findings of fact, which followed the allegations of the complaint and found in general terms that the editions in question were “ chiefly devoted to malicious, scandalous and defamatory articles,” concerning the individuals named. The court further found that the defendants through these publications “ did engage in the business of regularly and customarily producing, publishing and circulating a malicious, scandalous and defamatory newspaper,” and that “the said publication” “under said name of The Saturday Press, or any other name, constitutes a public nuisance under the laws of the State.” Judgment was thereupon entered adjudging that “the newspaper, magazine and periodical known as The Saturday Press,” as a public nuisance, “ be and is hereby abated.” The judgment perpetually enjoined the defendants from producing, editing, publishing, circulating, having in their possession, selling or giving away any publication whatsoever which is a malicious, scandalous or defamatory newspaper, as defined by law,” and also “from further conducting said nuisance under the name and title of said The Saturday Press or any other name or title.”

The defendant Near appealed from this judgment to the Supreme Court of the State, again asserting his right under the Federal Constitution, and the judgment was affirmed upon the authority of the former decision. 179 Minn. 40; 228 N.. W. 326. With respect to the contention that the judgment went too far, and prevented the defendants from publishing any kind of a newspaper, the court observed that the assignments of error did not go to the form of the judgment and that the lower court had not been asked to modify it. The court added that it saw no reason “ for defendants to construe the judgment as restraining them from operating a newspaper in harmony with the public welfare, to which all must yield,” that the allegations of the complaint had been *707found to be true, and, though this was an equitable action, defendants had not indicated a desire to conduct their business in the usual and legitimate manner.”

From the judgment as thus affirmed, the defendant Near appeals to this Court.

This statute, for the suppression as a public nuisance of a newspaper or periodical, is unusual, - if not unique, and raises questions of grave importance transcending the local interests involved in the particular action. It is no longer open to doubt that the liberty of the press, and of speech, is within the liberty safeguarded by the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment from invasion by state action. It was found impossible to conclude that this essential personal liberty of the citizen was left unprotected by the general guaranty of fundamental rights of person and property. Gitlow v. New York, 268 U. S. 652, 666; Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 362, 373; Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U. S. 380, 382; Stromberg v. California, ante, p. 359. In maintaining this guaranty, the authority of the State to enact laws to promote the health, safety, morals and general welfare of its people is necessarily admitted. The limits of this sovereign power must always be determined with appropriate regard to the particular subject of its exercise. Thus, while recognizing the broad discretion of the legislature in fixing rates to be charged by those ündertaking a public service, this Court has decided that the owner cannot constitutionally be deprived of his right to a fair return, because that is deemed to be of the essence of ownership. Railroad Commission Cases, 116 U. S. 307, 331; Northern Pacific Ry. Co. v. North Dakota, 236 U. S. 585, 596. So, while liberty of contract is not an absolute right, and the wide field of activity in the making of contracts is subject to legislative supervision (Frisbie v. United States, 157 U. S. 161, 165), this Court has held that the power of the State stops short of interference with what are deemed *708to be certain indispensable requirements of the liberty-assured, notably with respect to the fixing of prices and wages. Tyson Bros. v. Banton, 273 U. S. 418; Ribnik v. McBride, 277 U. S. 350; Adkins v. Children's Hospital, 261 U. S. 525, 560, 561. Liberty of speech, and of the press, is also not an absolute right, and the State may punish its abuse. Whitney v. California,, supra,; Stromberg v. California, supra. Liberty, in each of its phases, has its history and connotation and, in the present instance, the inquiry is as to the historic conception of the liberty of the press and whether the statute under review violates the essential attributes of that liberty.

The appellee insists that the questions of the application of the statute to appellant’s periodical, and of the construction of the judgment of the trial court, are not presented for review; that appellant’s sole attack was upon the constitutionality of the statute, however it might be applied. The appellee contends that no question either of motive in the publication, or whether the decree goes beyond the direction of the statute, is before us. The appellant replies that, in his view, the plain terms of the statute were not departed from in this case and that, even if they were, the statute is nevertheless unconstitutional under any reasonable construction of its terms. The appellant states that he has not argued that .the temporary and permanent injunctions were broader than were warranted by the statute; he insists that what was done was properly done if the statute is valid, and that the action taken under the statute is a fair indication of its scope.

With respect to these contentions it is enough to say that in passing upon constitutional questions the court has regard to substance and not to mere matters of form, and that, in accordance with familiar principles, the statute must be tested by its operation and effect. Henderson v. Mayor, 92 U. S. 259, 268; Bailey v. Alabama, 219 *709U. S. 219, 244; United States v. Reynolds, 235 U. S. 133, 148, 149; St. Louis Southwestern Ry. Co. v. Arkansas, 235 U. S. 350, 362; Mountain Timber Co. v. Washington, 243 U. S. 219, 237. That operation and effect we think is clearly shown by the record in this case. We are not concerned with mere errors of the trial court, if there be such, in going beyond the direction of the statute as construed by the Supreme Court of the State. It is thus important to note precisely the purpose and effect of the statute as the state court has construed it.

First. The statute is not .aimed at the redress of individual or private wrongs. Remedies for libel remain available and unaffected. The statute, said the state court, “ is not directed at threatened libel but at an existing business which, generally speaking, involves more than libel.” It is aimed at the distribution of scandalous matter as “ detrimental to public morals and to the general welfare,” tending “ to disturb the peace of the community” and “to provoke assaults and the commission of crime.” In order to obtain an injunction to suppress the future publication of the newspaper or periodical, it is not necessary to prove the falsity of the charges that have been made in the publication condemned. In the present action there was no allegation that the matter published was not true. It is alleged, and the statute requires the allegation, that the publication was “ malicious.” But, as in prosecutions for libel, there is no requirement of proof by the State of malice in fact as distinguished from malice inferred from the mere publication of the defamatory matter.2 The judgment in this case proceeded upon the mere proof of publication. The statute permits the defense, not of the truth alone, but only that the truth was published with good motives and *710for justifiable ends. It is apparent that under the statute the publication is to be regarded as defamatory if it injures reputation, and that it is scandalous if it circulates charges of reprehensible conduct, whether criminal or otherwise, and the publication is thus deemed to invite public reprobation and to constitute a public scandal. The court sharply defined the purpose of the statute, bringing out the precise point, in these words: “ There is no constitutional right to publish a fact merely because it is true. It is a matter of common knowledge that prosecutions under the criminal libel statutes do not result in efficient repression or suppression of the evils of scandal. Men who are the victims of such assaults seldom resort to the courts. This is especially true if their sins are exposed and the only question relates to whether it was done with good motives and for justifiable ends. This law is not for the protection of the person attacked nor to punish the wrongdoer. It is for the protection of the public welfare.”

Second. The statute is directed not simply at the circulation of scandalous and defamatory statements with regard to private citizens, but at the continued publication by newspapers and periodicals of charges against public officers of corruption, malfeasance in office, or serious neglect of duty. Such charges by their very nature create a public scandal. They are scandalous and defamatory within the meaning of the statute, which has its normal operation in relation to publications dealing prominently and chiefly with the alleged derelictions of public officers.3

*711Third. The object of the statute is not punishment, in the ordinary sense, but suppression of the offending newspaper or periodical. The reason for the enactment, as the state court has said, is that prosecutions to enforce penal statutes for libel do not result in “ efficient repression or suppression of the evils of scandal.” Describing the business of publication as a public nuisance, does not obscure the substance of the proceeding which the statute authorizes. It is the continued publication of scandalous and defamatory matter that constitutes the business and the declared nuisance. In the case of public officers, it is the reiteration of charges of official misconduct, and the fact that the newspaper or periodical is principally devoted to that purpose, that exposes it to suppression. In the present instance, the proof was that nine editions of the newspaper or periodical in question were published on successive dates, and that they were chiefly devoted to charges against public officers and in relation to the prevalence and protection of crime. In such a case, these officers are not left to their ordinary remedy in a suit for libel, or the authorities to a prosecution for criminal libel. Under this statute, a publisher of a newspaper or periodical, undertaking to conduct a campaign to expose and to censure official derelictions, and devoting his publication principally to that purpose, must face not simply the possibility of a verdict against him in a suit or prosecution for libel, but a determination that his newspaper or periodical is a public nuisance to be abated, and that this abatement and suppression will follow unless he is prepared with legal evidence to prove the truth of the charges and also to satisfy the court that, in *712addition to being true, the matter was published with good motives and for justifiable ends.

This suppression is accomplished by enjoining publication and that restraint is the object and effect of the statute.

Fourth. The statute not only operates to suppress the offending newspaper or periodical but to put the publisher under an effective censorship. When a newspaper or periodical is found to be “ malicious, scandalous and defamatory,” and is suppressed as such, resumption of publication is punishable as a contempt of court by fine or imprisonment. Thus, where a newspaper or periodical has been suppressed because of the circulation of charges against public officers , of official misconduct, it would seem to be clear that the renewal of the publication of such charges would constitute a contempt and that the judgment would lay a permanent restraint upon the publisher, to escape which he must satisfy the court as to the character of a new publication. Whether he would be permitted again to publish matter deemed to be derogatory to the same or other public officers would depend upon the court’s ruling. In the present instance the judgment restrained the defendants from “publishing, circulating, having in their possession, selling or giving away any publication whatsoever which is a malicious, scandalous or defamatory newspaper, as defined by law.” The law gives no definition except that covered by the words “ scandalous and defamatory,” and publications charging official misconduct are of that class. • While the court, answering the objection that the judgment was too broad, saw no reason for construing it as restraining the defendants “from operating a newspaper in harmony with the public welfare to which all must yield,” and said that the defendants had not indicated' “ any desire to conduct their business in the usual and legitimate manner,” the manifest inference is that, at least with respect to a *713new publication directed against official misconduct, the defendant would be held, under penalty of punishment for contempt as provided in the statute, to a manner of publication which the court considered to be “ usual and legitimate ” and consistent with the public welfare.

If we cut through mere details of procedure, the operation and effect of the statute in substance is that public authorities may bring the owner or publisher of a newspaper or periodical before a judge upon a charge of conducting a business of publishing scandalous and defamatory matter—in particular that the matter consists of charges against public officers of official dereliction—and unless the owner or publisher is able and disposed to bring competent evidence to satisfy the judge that the charges are true and are published with good motives and for justifiable ends, his newspaper or periodical is suppressed and further publication is made punishable as a contempt. This is of the essence of censorship.

The question is whether a statute authorizing such proceedings in restraint of publication is consistent with the conception of the liberty of the press as historically conceived and guaranteed. In determining the extent of the constitutional protection, it has been generally, if not universally, considered that it is the chief purpose of the guaranty to prevent previous restraints upon publication. The struggle in England, directed against the legislative power of the licenser, resulted in renunciation of the censorship of the press.4 The liberty deemed to be established was thus described by Blackstone: The liberty of the press is indeed essential to the nature of a free state; but this consists in laying no previous restraints upon publications, and not in freedom from censure for criminal matter when published. Every freeman has an *714undoubted right to lay what sentiments he pleases before the public; to forbid' this, is to destroy the freedom of the press; but if he publishes what is improper, mischievous or illegal, he must take the consequence of his own temerity.” 4 Bl. Com. 151, 152; see Story on the Constitution, §§ 1884, 1889. The distinction was early pointed out between the extent of the freedom with respect to censorship under our constitutional system and that enjoyed in England. Here, as Madison said, “ the great and essential rights of the people are secured against legislative as well as against executive ambition. They are secured, not by laws paramount to prerogative, but by constitutions paramount to laws. This security of the freedom of . the press requires that it should be exempt not only from previous restraint by the Executive, as in Great Britain, but from legislative restraint also.” Report on the Virginia Resolutions, Madison’s Works, vol. IV, p. 543. This Court said, in Patterson v. Colorado, 205 U. S. 454, 462: In the first place, the main purpose of such constitutional provisions is ‘ to prevent all such previous restraints upon publications as had been practiced by other governments,’ and they do not prevent the subsequent punishment of such as may be deemed contrary to the public welfare. Commonwealth v. Blanding, 3 Pick. 304, 313, 314; Respublica v. Oswald, 1 Dallas, 319, 325. The preliminary freedom extends as well to the false as to the true; the subsequent punishment may extend as well to the true as to the false. This was the law of criminal libel apart from statute in most cases, if not in all. Commonwealth v. Blanding, ubi sup.; 4 Bl. Com. 150.”

The criticism upon Blackstone’s statement has not been because immunity from previous restraint upon publication has not been regarded as deserving of special emphasis, but chiefly because that immunity cannot be deemed to exhaust the conception of the liberty guaranteed by *715state and federal constitutions. The point of criticism has been “that the mere exemption from previous restraints cannot be all that is secured by the constitutional provisions ”; and that “ the liberty of the press might be rendered a mockery and a delusion, and the phrase itself a by-word, if, while every man was at liberty to publish what he pleased, the public authorities might nevertheless punish him for harmless publications.” 2 Cooley, Const. Lim., 8th ed., p. 885. But it is recognized that punishment for the abuse of the liberty accorded to the press is essential to the protection of the public, and that the common law rules that subject the libeler to responsibility- for the public offense, as well as for the private injury, are not abolished by the protection extended in our constitutions, id. pp. 883, 884. The law of criminal libel rests upon that secure foundation. There is also the conceded authority of courts to punish for contempt when publications directly tend to prevent the proper discharge of judicial functions. Patterson v. Colorado, supra; Toledo Newspaper Co. v. United States, 247 U. S. 402, 419.5 In the present case, we have no occasion to inquire as to the permissible scope of subsequent punishment. For whatever wrong the appellant has committed or may commit, by his publications, the State appropriately affords both public and private redress by its libel laws. As has been noted, the statute in question does not deal with punishments; it provides for no punishment, except in case of contempt for violation of the court’s order, but for suppression and injunction, that is, for restraint upon publication.

The objection has also been made that the principle as to immunity from previous restraint is stated too *716broadly, if every such restraint is deemed to be prohibited. That is undoubtedly true; the protection even as to previous restraint is not absolutely unlimited. But the limitation has been recognized only in exceptional cases: When a nation is at war many things that might be said in time of peace are such a hindrance to its effort that their utterance will not be endured so long as men fight and that no Court could regard them as protected by any constitutional right.” Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47, 52. No one would question but that a government might prevent actual obstruction to its recruiting service or the publication of the sailing dates of transports or the number and location of troops.6 Ón similar grounds, the primary requirements of decency may be enforced against obscene publications. The security of the. community life may be protected against incitements to. acts of violence and the overthrow by force of orderly government. The constitutional guaranty of free speech does not “ protect a man from an injunction against uttering words that may have all the effect of force. Gompers v. Buck Stove & Range Co., 221 U. S. 418, 439.” Schenck v. United States, supra. These limitations are not applicable here. Nor are we now concerned with questions as to the extent of authority to prevent publications in order to protect private rights according to the principles governing the exercise of the jurisdiction of courts of equity.7

The exceptional nature of its limitations places in a strong light the general conception that liberty of the press, historically considered and taken up by the Federal Constitution, has meant, principally although not exclusively, immunity from previous restraints or censorship. The conception of theuFerty of the press in this country had broadened with the exigencies of the colonial *717period and with the efforts to secure freedom from oppressive administration.8 That liberty was especially cherished for the immunity it afforded from previous restraint of the publication of censure of public officers and charges of official misconduct. As was said by Chief Justice Parker, in Commonwealth v. Blanding, 3 Pick. 304, 313, with respect to the constitution of Massachusetts: “ Besides, it is well understood, and received as a commentary on this provision for the liberty of the press, that it was intended to prevent all such previous restraints upon publications as had been practiced by other governments, and in early times here, to stifle the efforts of patriots towards enlightening their fellow subjects upon their rights and the duties of rulers. The liberty of the press was to be unrestrained, but he who used it was to be responsible in case of its abuse.” In the letter sent by the Continental Congress (October 26, 1774) to the Inhabitants of Quebec, referring to the “ five great rights ” it was said:9 The last right we shall mention, regards the freedom of the press. The importance of this consists, besides the advancement of truth, science, morality, and arts in general, in .its diffusion of liberal sentiments on the administration of Government, its ready communication of thoughts between subjects, and its consequential promotion of union among them, whereby oppressive officers are shamed or intimidated, into more honourable and just modes of conducting affairs.” Madison, who was the leading spirit in the preparation of the First Amendment of the Federal Constitution, thus described the practice and sentiment which led to the guaranties of liberty of the press in state constitutions:10

*718“ In every State, probably, in the Union, the press has exerted a freedom in canvassing the merits and measures of public men of every description which has not been confined to the strict limits of the common law. On this footing the freedom of the press has stood; on this footing it yet stands. . . . Some degree of abuse is inseparable from the proper use of everything, and in no instance is this more true than in that of the press. It has accordingly been decided by the practice of the States, that it is better to leave a few of its noxious branches to their luxuriant growth, than, by pruning them away, to injure the vigour of those yielding the proper fruits. And can the wisdom of this policy be doubted by any who reflect that to the press alone, chequered as it is with abuses, the world is indebted for all the triumphs which have been gained by reason and humanity over error and oppression; who reflect that to the same beneficent source the United States owe much of the lights which conducted them to the ranks of a free and independent nation, and which have improved their political system into a shape so auspicious to their happiness? Had * Sedition Acts,’ forbidding every publication that might bring the constituted agents into contempt or disrepute, or that might excite the hatred of the people against the authors of unjust or pernicious measures, been uniformly enforced against the press, might not the United States have been languishing at this day under the infirmities of a sickly Confederation? Might they not, possibly, be miserable colonies, groaning under a foreign yoke? ”

The fact that for approximately one hundred and fifty years there has been almost an entire absence of attempts to impose previous restraints upon publications relating to the malfeasance of public officers is significant of the deep-seated conviction that such restraints would violate constitutional right'. Public officers, whose character and *719conduct remain open to debate and free discussion in the press, find their remedies for false accusations in actions under libel laws providing for redress and punishment, and not in proceedings to restrain the publication of newspapers and periodicals.^ The general principle that the constitutional guaranty of the liberty of the press gives immunity from previous restraints has been approved in many decisions under the provisions of state constitutions.11

The importance of this immunity has not lessened. While reckless assaults upon public men, and efforts to bring obloquy upon those who are endeavoring faithfully to discharge official duties, exert a baleful influence and deserve the severest condemnation in public opinion, it cannot be said that this abuse is greater, and it is believed to be less, than that which characterized the period in which our institutions took shape. Meanwhile, the administration of government has become more complex, the opportunities for malfeasance and corruption have multiplied, crime has grown to most serious proportions, and the danger of its protection by unfaithful officials and of the impairment of the fundamental security of life and *720property by criminal alliances and official neglect, emphasizes the primary need of a vigilant and courageous press, especially in great cities. The fact that the liberty of the press may be abused by miscreant purveyors of scandal does not make any the less necessary the immunity of the press from previous restraint in dealing with official misconduct. Subsequent punishment for such abuses as may exist is the appropriate remedy* consistent with constitutional privilege.

In attempted justification of the statute, it is said that it deals not with publication per se, but with the “ business ” of publishing defamation. If, however, the publisher has a constitutional right to publish, without previous restraint, an edition of his newspaper charging official derelictions, it cannot be denied that he may publish subsequent editions for the same purpose. He does not lose his right by exercising it. . If his right exists, it may be exercised in publishing nine editions, as in this case, as well as in one edition. If previous restraint is permissible, it may be imposed at once; indeed, the wrong may be as serious in one publication as in several. Characterizing the publication as a business, and the business as a nuisance, does not permit an invasion of the constitutional immunity against restraint. Similarly, it does not matter that the newspaper or periodical is found to be “largely” or “chiefly” devoted to the publication of such. derelictions. If the publisher has a right, without previous restraint, to publish them, his right cannot be deemed to be dependent upon his publishing something else, more or less, with the matter to which objection is made.

Nor can it be said that the constitutional freedom from previous restraint is lost because charges are made of derelictions which constitute crimes. With the multiplying provisions of penal codes, and of municipal charters and ordinances carrying penal sanctions, the conduct of *721public officers is very largely within the purview of criminal statutes. The freedom of the press from previous restraint has never been regarded as limited to such animadversions as lay outside the range of penal enactments. Historically, there is no such limitation; it is inconsistent with the reason which underlies the privilege, as the privilege so limited would be of slight value for the purposes for which it came to be established.

The statute in question cannot be justified by reason of the fact that the publisher is permitted to show, before injunction issues, that the matter published is true and is published with good motives and for justifiable ends. If such a statute, authorizing suppression and injunction on such a basis, is constitutionally valid, it would be equally permissible for the legislature to provide that at any time the publisher of any newspaper could be brought before a court, or even an administrative officer (as the constitutional protection may not be regarded as resting on mere procedural details) and required to produce proof of the truth of his publication, or of what he intended to publish, and of his motives, or stand enjoined. If this can be. done, the legislature may provide machinery for determining in the complete exercise of its discretion what are justifiable ends and restrain publication accordingly. And it would be but a step to a complete system of censorship. The recognition of authority to impose previous restraint upon publication in order to protect the community against the circulation of charges of misconduct, and especially of official misconduct, necessarily would carry with it the admission of the authority of the censor against which the constitutional barrier was erected. The preliminary freedom, by virtue of the very reason for its existence, does not depend, as this Court has said, on proof of truth. Patterson v. Colorado, supra.

Equally unavailing is the insistence that the statute is designed to prevent the circulation of scandal which tends *722to disturb the public peace and to provoke assaults and the commission of crime. Charges of reprehensible conduct, and in particular of official malfeasance, unquestionably create a public scandal, but the theory of the constitutional guaranty is that even a more serious public evil would be caused by authority to prevent publication. To prohibit the intent to excite those unfavorable sentiments against those who administer the Government, is equivalent to a prohibition of the actual excitement of them; and to prohibit the actual excitement of them is equivalent to a prohibition of discussions having that tendency and effect; which, again, is equivalent to a protection of those who administer the Government, if they should at any time deserve the contempt or hatred of the people, against being exposed to it by free animadversions on their characters and conduct.”12 There is nothing new in the fact that charges of reprehensible conduct may create resentment and the disposition to resort to violent means of redress, but this well-understood tendency did not alter the determination to protect the press against censorship and restraint upon publication. As was said in New Yorker Staats-Zeitung v. Nolan, 89 N. J. Eq. 387, 388; 105 Atl. 72: “ If the township may prevent the circulation of a newspaper for no reason other than that some of its inhabitants may violently disagree with it, and resent its circulation by resorting to physical violence, there is no limit to what may be prohibited.” The danger of violent reactions becomes greater with effective organization of defiant groups resenting exposure, and if this consideration warranted legislative interference with the initial freedom of publication, the constitutional protection would be reduced to a mere form of words.

For these reasons we hold the statute, so far as it authorized the proceedings in this action under clause (b) *723of section one, to be an infringement of the liberty of the press guaranteed by the Fourteenth Amendment. We should add that this decision rests upon the operation and effect of the statute, without regard to the question of the truth of the charges contained in the particular periodical. The fact that the public officers named in this case, and those associated with the charges of official dereliction, may be deemed to be impeccable, cannot affect the conclusion that the statute imposes an unconstitutional restraint upon publication.

Judgment reversed.

Mb. Justice Butler,

dissenting.

The decision of the Court in this case declares Minnesota and every other State powerless to restrain by injunction the business of publishing and circulating among the people malicious, scandalous and defamatory periodicals that in due course of judicial procedure has been adjudged to be a public nuisance. It gives to freedom of the press a meaning and a scope not heretofore recognized and construes “ liberty ” in the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to put upon the States a federal restriction that is without precedent.

. Confessedly, the Federal Constitution prior to 1868, when the Fourteenth Amendment was adopted, did not protect the right of free speech or press against state action. Barron v. Baltimore, 7 Pet. 243, 250. Fox v. Ohio, 5 How. 410, 434. Smith v. Maryland, 18 How. 71, 76. Withers v. Buckley, 20 How. 84, 89-91. Up to that time the right was safeguarded solely by the constitutions ¡and laws of the States and, it may be added, they operated .'adequately to protect it. This Court was not called on until 1925 to decide whether the liberty ” protected by the Fourteenth Amendment includes the right of free speech and press. That question has been finally an*724swered in the affirmative. Cf. Patterson v. Colorado, 205 U. S. 454, 462. Prudential Ins. Co. v. Cheek, 259 U. S. 530, 538, 543. See Gitlow v. New York, 268 U. S. 652. Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U. S. 380. Stromberg v. California, ante, p. 359.

The record shows, and it is conceded, that defendants’ regular business was the publication of malicious, scandalous and defamatory articles concerning the principal public officers, leading newspapers of the city, many private persons and the Jewish race. It also shows that it was their purpose at all hazards to continue to carry on the business. In every edition slanderous and defamatory matter predominates to the practical exclusion of all else. Many of the statements are so highly improbable as to compel a finding that they are false. The articles themselves show malice.1

*725The defendant here has no standing to assert that the statute is invalid because it might be construed so as to violate the Constitution. His right is limited solely to *726the inquiry whether, having regard to the points properly raised in his case, the effect of applying the statute is to ! deprive him of his liberty without due process of law. *727This Court should not reverse the judgment below upon the ground that in some other case the statute may be applied in a way that is repugnant to the freedom of the press protected by the Fourteenth Amendment. Castillo v. McConnico, 168 U. S. 674, 680. Williams v. Mississippi, 170 U. S. 213, 225. Yazoo & Miss. R. Co. v. Jackson Vinegar Co., 226 U. S. 217, 219-220. Plymouth Coal Co. v. Pennsylvania, 232 U. S. 531, 544-546.

This record requires the Court to consider the statute as applied to the business of publishing articles that are in fact malicious, scandalous and defamatory.

The statute provides that any person who “ shall be engaged in the business of regularly or customarily producing, publishing or circulating” a newspaper, magazine or other periodical that is (a) “obscene, lewd and lascivious” or (b) “malicious, scandalous and defama*728tory ” is guilty of a nuisance and may be enjoined as provided in the Act. It will be observed that the qualifying words are used conjunctively. In actions brought under (b) “ there shall be available the defense that the truth was published with good motives and for justifiable ends.”

The complaint charges that defendants were engaged in the business of regularly and customarily publishing malicious, scandalous and defamatory newspapers ” known as the Saturday Press, anil nine editions dated respectively on each Saturday commencing September 25 and ending November 19, 1927, were made a part of the complaint. These are all that were published.

On appeal from the order of the district court overruling defendants’ demurrer to the complaint the state supreme court said (174 Minn. 457, 461; 219 N. W. 770): The constituent elements of the declared nuisance are the customary and regular dissemination by means of a newspaper which finds its way into families, reaching the young as well as the mature, of a selection of scandalous and defamatory articles treated in such a way as to excite attention and interest so as to command circulation. . . . The statute is not directed at threatened libel but at an existing business which, generally speaking, involves more than libel. The distribution of scandalous matter is detrimental to public morals and to the general welfare. It tends to disturb the peace of the community. Being defamatory and malicious, it tends to provoke assaults and the commission of crime. It has no concern with the publication of the truth, with good motives and for justifiable ends. ... In Minnesota no ■ agency can hush the sincere and honest voice of the press; ■ but our constitution was never intended to protect malice, .scandal and defamation when untrue or published with bad motives or without justifiable ends. ... It was never the intention of the constitution to afford protec*729tion to a publication devoted to scandal and defamation. . . . Defendants stand before us upon the record as being regularly and customarily engaged in a business of conducting a newspaper sending to the public malicious, scandalous and defamatory printed matter.”

The case was remanded to the district court.

Near’s answer made no allegations to excuse or justify the business or the articles complained of. It formally denied that the publications were malicious,, scandalous or defamatory, admitted that they were made as alleged, and attacked the statute as unconstitutional. At the trial the plaintiff introduced evidence unquestionably sufficient to support the complaint. The defendant offered none. The court found the facts as alleged in the complaint and specifically that each edition “was chiefly devoted to malicious, scandalous and defamatory articles ” and that the last edition was chiefly devoted to malicious, scandalous and defamatory articles concerning Leach (mayor of Minneapolis), Davis (representative of the law enforcement league of citizens), Brunskill (chief of police), Olson (county attorney), the Jewish race and members of the grand jury then serving in that court; that defendants in and through the several publications “ did thereby engage in the business of regularly and customarily producing, publishing and circulating a malicious, scandalous and defamatory newspaper.”

Defendant Near again appealed to the supreme court. In its opinion (179 Minn. 40; 228 N. W. 326) the court said: “ No claim is advanced that the method and character of the operation of the newspaper in question was not a nuisance if the statute is constitutional. It was regularly and customarily devoted largely to malicious, scandalous and defamatory matter. . . . The record presents the same questions, upon which we have already passed.”

*730Defendant concedes that the editions of the newspaper complained of are “defamatory per se.” And he says: “ It has been asserted that the constitution was never intended to be a shield for malice, scandal, and defamation when untrue, or published with bad motives, or for unjustifiable ends. . . . The contrary is true; every person does have a constitutional right to publish malicious, scandalous, and defamatory matter though untrue, and with bad motives, and for-unjustifiable ends, in the first instance, though he is subject to responsibility therefor afterwards.” The record, when the substance of the articles is regarded, requires that concession here. And this Court is required to pass on the validity of the state law on that basis.

No question was raised below and there is none here ■concerning the relevancy or weight of evidence, burden of proof, justification or other matters of defense, the scope of the judgment or proceedings to enforce it or the character of the publications that may be made notwithstanding the injunction.

There is no basis for the suggestion that defendants may not interpose any defense or introduce any evidence that would be open to them in a libel case, or that malice may not be negatived by showing that the publication was made in good faith in belief of its truth, or that at the time and under the circumstances it was justified as a fair comment on public affairs or upon the conduct of public officers in respect of their duties as such. See Mason's Minnesota Statutes, §§ 10112, 10113.

The scope of the judgment is not reviewable here. The opinion of the state supreme court shows that it was not reviewable there, because defendants' assignments of error in that court did not go to the form of the judgment, and because the lower court had not been asked to modify the judgment.

*731The Act was passed in the exertion of the State’s power of police, and this court is by well established rule required to assume, until the contrary is clearly made to appear, that there exists in Minnesota a state of affairs that justifies this measure for the preservation of the peace and good order of the State. Lindsley v. Natural Carbonic Gas Co., 220 U. S. 61, 79. Gitlow v. Néiv York, supra, 668-669. Corporation Commission v. Lowe, 281 U. S. 431, 438. O’Gorman & Young v. Hartford Ins. Co., 282 U. S. 251, 257-258.

The publications themselves disclose the need and propriety of the legislation. They show:

In 1913 one Guilford, originally a defendant in this suit, commenced the publication of a scandal sheet called the Twin City Reporter; in 1916 Near joined him in the enterprise, later bought him out and engaged the services of one Bevans. In 1919 Bevans acquired Near’s interest, and has since, alone or with others, continued the publication. Defendants admit that they published some reprehensible articlés in the Twin City Reporter, deny that they personally used it for blackmailing purposes, admit that by reason of their connection with the paper their reputation did become tainted and state that Bevans, while so associated with Near, did use the paper for blackmailing purposes. And Near says it was for that reason he sold his interest to Bevans.

In a number of the editions defendants charge that, ever since Near sold his interest to Bevans in 1919, the Twin City Reporter has been used for blackmail, to dominate public gambling and other criminal activities and as well to exert a kind of control over public officers and the government of the city.

The articles in question also state that, when defendants announced their intention to publish the Saturday Press, they were threatened, and that soon after the first pub*732lication Guilford was waylaid and shot down before he could use the firearm which he had at hand for the purpose of defending himself against anticipated assaults. It also appears that Near apprehended violence and was not unprepared to repel it. There is much more of like significance.

The long criminal career of the Twin City Reporter— if it is in fact as described.by defendants—and the arming and shooting arising out of the publication of the Saturday Press, serve to illustrate the kind of conditions, in respect of the business of publishing malicious, scandalous and defamatory periodicals, by which the state legislature presumably was moved to enact the law in question. It must be deemed appropriate to deal with conditions existing in Minnesota.

It is of the greatest importance that the States shall bo untrammeled and free to employ all just and appropriate measures to prevent abuses of the liberty of the press.

In his work on the Constitution (5th ed.) Justice Story, expounding the First Amendment which declares: “ Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech or of the press,” said (•§ 1880):

That this amendment was intended to secure to every citizen an absolute right to speak, or write, or print whatever he might please, without any responsibility, public or private, therefor, is a supposition too wild to be indulged by any rational man. This would be to allow to every citizen a right to destroy at his pleasure the reputation, the peace, the property, and even the personal safety of every other citizen. A man might, out of mere "malice and revenge, accuse another of the most infamous crimes; might excite against him the indignation of all his fellow-citizens by the most atrocious calumnies; might disturb, nay, overturn, all his domestic peace, and embitter his parental affections; might inflict the most distressing punishments upon the weak, the timid, and the inno*733cent; might prejudice all a man’s civil, and political, and private rights; and might stir up sedition, rebellion, and treason even against the government itself, in the wantonness of his passions or the corruption of his heart. Civil society could not go on under such circumstances. Men would then be obliged to resort to private vengeance to make up for the deficiencies of the law; and assassination and savage cruelties would be perpetrated with all the frequency belonging to barbarous and brutal communities. It is plain, then, that the language of this amendment imports no more than that every man shall have a right to speak, write, and print his opinions upon any subject whatsoever, without any prior restraint, so always that he does not injure any other person in his rights, person, property, or reputation; and so always that he does not thereby disturb the public peace, or attempt to subvert the government. It is neither more nor less than an expansion of the great doctrine recently brought into operation in the law of libel, that every man shall be at liberty to publish what is true, with good motives and for justifiable ends. And with this reasonable limitation it is not only right in itself, but it is an inestimable privilege in a free government. Without such a limitation, it might become the scourge of the republic, first denouncing the principles of liberty, and then, by rendering the most virtuous patriots odious through .the terrors of the press, introducing despotism in its worst form.” (Italicizing added.)

The Court quotes Blackstone in support of its condemnation of the statute as imposing a previous restraint upon publication. But the previous restraints referred to by him subjected the press to the arbitrary will of an administrative officer. He describes the practice (Book IV, p. 152): “To subject the press to the restrictive power of a licenser, as was formerly done, both before and since the revolution [of 1688], is to subject all free*734dom of sentiment to the prejudices of one man, and make him the arbitrary and infallible judge of all controverted points in learning, religion, and government."2

Story gives the history alluded to by Blackstone (§ 1882):

“The art of printing soon after its introduction, we are told, was looked upon, as well in England as in other .countries, as merely a matter of state, and subject to the coercion of the crown. It was, therefore, regulated in England by the king’s proclamations, prohibitions, charters of privilege, and licenses, and finally by the decrees of the Court of Star-Chamber, which limited the number of printers and of presses which each should employ, and prohibited new publications, unless previously approved by proper licensers. On the demolition of this odious jurisdiction, in 1641, the Long Parliament of Charles the Eirst, after their rupture with that prince, assumed the same powers which the Star-Chamber exercised with respect to licensing books; and during the Commonwealth (such is human frailty and the love of power even in republics!) they issued their ordinances for that purpose, founded principally upon a Star-Chamber decree of 1637. After the restoration of Charles the Second, a statute on the same subject was passed, copied, with some few alterations, from the parliamentary ordinances. The act expired in 1679, and was revived and continued for a few years after the revolution of 1688. Many attempts were made by the government to keep it in force; but it was *735so strongly resisted by Parliament that it expired in 1694, and has never since been revived.”

It is plain that Blackstone taught that under the common law liberty of the press means simply the absence of restraint upon publication in advance as distinguished from liability, civil or criminal, for libelous or improper matter so published. And, as above shown, Story defined freedom of the press guaranteed by the First Amendment to mean that “ every man shall be at liberty to publish what is true, with good motives and for justifiable ends.” His statement concerned the definite declaration of the First Amendment. It is not suggested that the freedom of press included in the liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment, which was adopted after Story’s definition, is greater than that protected against congressional action. And see 2 Cooley’s Constitutional Limitations, 8th ed., p. 886. 2 Kent’s Commentaries (14th ed.) Lect. XXIV, p. 17.

The Minnesota statute does not operate as a previous restraint on publication within the proper meaning of that phrase. It does not authorize administrative control in advance such as was formerly exercised by the licensers and censors but prescribes a remedy to be enforced by a suit in equity. In this case there was previous publication made in the course of the business of regularly producing malicious, scandalous and defamatory periodicals. The business and publications unquestionably constitute an abuse of the right of free press. The statute denounces the things done as a nuisance on the ground, as stated by the state supreme court, that they threaten morals, peace and good order. There is no question of the power' of the State to denounce such transgressions. The restraint authorized is only in respect of continuing to do what has been duly adjudged to constitute a nuisance. The controlling words are “All persons guilty of such nuisance may be enjoined, as here*736inafter provided. . . . Whenever any such nuisance is committed ... an action in the name of the State may be brought “ to perpetually enjoin the person or persons committing, conducting, or maintaining any such nuisance, from further committing, conducting or maintaining any such nuisance. . . . The court may make its order and judgment permanently enjoining . . . defendants found guilty . . . from committing or continuing the acts prohibited hereby, and in and by such judgment, such nuisance may be wholly abated. . . .” There is (nothing in the statute3 purporting to prohibit publications that have not been adjudged to constitute a nuisance. It is fanciful to suggest similarity between the granting or enforcement of the decree authorized by this statute to prevent further publication of malicious, scandalous and defamatory articles and the previous restraint upon the press by licensers as referred to by Blackstone and described in the history of the times to which he alludes.

*737The opinion seems to concede that under clause (a) of the Minnesota law the business of regularly publishing and circulating an obscene periodical may be enjoined as a nuisance. It is difficult' to perceive any distinction, having any relation to constitutionality, between clause (a) and clause (b) under which this action was brought. Both nuisances are offensive to morals, order and good government. As that resulting from lewd publications constitutionally may be enjoined it is hard to understand why the one resulting from a regular business of malicious defamation may not.

It is well known, as found by the state supreme court, that existing libel laws are inadequate effectively to suppress evils resulting from the kind of business and publications that are shown in this case. The doctrine that measures such as the one before us are invalid because they operate as previous restraints to infringe freedom of press exposes the peace and good order of every community and the business and private affairs of every individual to the constant and protracted false and malicious *738assaults of any insolvent publisher who may have purpose and sufficient capacity to contrive and put into effect a scheme or program for oppression, blackmail or extortion.

The judgment should be affirmed.

Mr. Justice Van Devanter, Mr. Justice McReynolds, and Mr. Justice Sutherland concur in this opinion.

15.6 New Negro Alliance v. Sanitary Grocery Co. 15.6 New Negro Alliance v. Sanitary Grocery Co.

NEW NEGRO ALLIANCE v. SANITARY GROCERY CO.*

No. 511.

Argued March 2, 3, 1938.

Decided March 28, 1938.

*553Messrs. Belford V. Lawson, Jr. and Thurman L. Dodson, with whom Mr. Theodore M. Berry was on the brief, for petitioners.

Mr. A. Coulter Wells, with whom Mr. William E. Carey, Jr. was on the brief, for respondent.

*554Mr. Justice Roberts

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The matter in controversy is whether the case made by the pleadings involves or grows out of a labor dispute within the meaning of § 13 of the Norris-La Guar-dia Act.1

The respondent, by bill filed in the District Court of the District of Columbia, sought an injunction restraining the petitioners and their agents from picketing its stores and engaging in other activities injurious to its business. The petitioners answered, the cause was heard upon bill and answer, and an injunction was awarded. The United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia affirmed the decree.2 The importance of the question presented and asserted conflict with the decisions of this and other federal courts moved us to grant certiorari.

*555As the case was heard upon the bill and a verified answer the facts upon which decision must rest are those set forth in the bill and admitted or not denied by the answer and those affirmatively set up in the answer.

The following facts alleged in the bill are admitted by the answer. Respondent, a Delaware corporation, operates 255 retail grocery, meat, and vegetable stores, a warehouse and a bakery in the District of Columbia and employs both white and colored persons. April 3, 1936, it opened a new store at 1936 Eleventh Street, N. W., installing personnel having an acquaintance with the trade in the vicinity. Petitioner, The New Negro Alliance, is a corporation composed of colored persons, organized for the mutual improvement of its members and the promotion of civic, educational, benevolent, and charitable enterprises. The individual petitioners are officers of the corporation. The relation of employer and employes does not exist between the respondent and the petitioners or any of them. The, petitioners are not engaged in any business competitive with that of the respondent, and the officers, members, or representatives of the Alliance are not engaged in the same business or occupation as the respondent or its employes.

As to other matters of fact, the state of the pleadings may be briefly summarized. The bill asserts: the petitioners have made arbitrary and summary demands upon the respondent that it engage and employ colored persons in managerial and sales positions in the new store and in various other stores; it is essential to the conduct of the business that respondent employ experienced persons in its stores and compliance with the arbitrary demands of defendants would involve the discharge of white employes and their replacement with colored; it is imperative that respondent be free in the selection and control of persons employed by it without interference by the petitioners *556or others; petitioners have written respondent letters threatening boycott and ruination of its business and notices that by means of announcements, meetings and advertising the petitioners will circulate statements that respondent is unfair to colored people and to the colored race and, contrary to fact, that respondent does not employ colored persons; respondent has not acceded to these demands. The answer admits the respondent has not acceded to the petitioners’ demands, but denies the other allegations and states that the Alliance and its agents have requested only that respondent, in the regular course of personnel changes in its retail stores, give employment to Negroes as clerks, particularly in stores patronized largely by colored people; that the petitioners have not requested the discharge of white employes nor sought action which would involve their discharge. It denies the making of the threats described and alleges the only representations threatened by the Alliance or its authorized agents are true representations that named stores of the respondent do not employ Negroes as sales persons and that the petitioners have threatened no more than the use of lawful and peaceable persuasion of members of the community to withhold patronage from particular stores after the respondent’s refusal to acknowledge petitioner’s requests that it adopt a policy of employing Negro clerks in such stores in the regular course of personnel changes.

The bill further alleges that the petitioners and their authorized representatives “have unlawfully conspired with each other to picket, patrol, boycott, and ruin the Plaintiff’s business in said stores, and particularly in the store located at 1936 Eleventh Street, Northwest” and, “in an effort to fulfill their threats of coercion and intimidation, actually have caused the said store to be picketed or patrolled during hours of business of the plaintiff, by their members, representatives, officers, agents, servants, *557and employees”; the pickets carrying large placards charging respondent with being unfair to Negroes and reading: “Do your Part! Buy Where You Can Work! No Negroes Employed Here! ” for the purpose of intimidating and coercing prospective customers from entering the respondent’s store until the respondent accedes to the petitioners’ demands. “Said defendants, their pickets or patrols or some of them have jostled and collided with persons in front of the said store and have physically hindered, obstructed, interfered with, delayed, molested, and harassed persons desiring to enter the place of business of the Plaintiff Corporation; said pickets, or some of them, have attempted to dissuade and prevent persons from entering plaintiff’s place of business; said defendants, their pickets or patrols are disorderly while picketing or patrolling, and attract crowds to gather in front of said, store, and encourage the crowds or members thereof to become disorderly, and to harass, and otherwise annoy, interfere with and attempt to dissuade, and to prevent persons from entering the place of business of the plaintiff, the disorder thereby preventing the proper conduct of and operation of the plaintiff’s business. Defendants have threatened to use similar tactics of picketing and patrolling as aforesaid in front of the several other stores of the plaintiff.” Four photographs alleged to portray the picketing are annexed as exhibits to the bill. One of them shows a man carrying a sandwich placard on the sidewalk and no one else within the range of the camera. In another, two children are seen beside the picket; in another, two adults; in the fourth, one adult entering respondent’s store at a distance from the picket and without apparent interference. The answer denies all these allegations save that it admits the petitioners did, during April 4, 1936, and at no other time, cause the store at 1936 Eleventh Street, N. W., to be continuously picketed by a single person carrying a placard exhibiting *558the words quoted by the bill; and the petitioners, prior to the acts complained of in the bill, picketed, or expressed the intention of picketing, two other stores. It admits that the photographs correctly represent the picketing of April 4, 1936. The answer avers the information carried on the placards was true, was not intended to, and did not in fact, intimidate customers; there was no physical obstruction, interference or harassment of anyone desiring to enter the store; there was no disorderly conduct, and the picketing did not cause or encourage crowds to gather in front of the store.

The bill states: “As evidence of the widespread and concerted action planned by the Defendants herein, they have caused to be placed or have permitted to appear in the Washington Tribune . . . the following statements ...” There follow quotations from articles appearing in the newspaper purporting to report meetings of the Alliance and speeches made thereat. There is no statement that the facts reported in the articles are true. The answer denies that any of the petitioners is connected with or exercises any control over the Washington Tribune or caused or permitted that newspaper to publish any article or news item whatsoever or in any way acted in concert with the newspaper in those publications.

The bill asserts that petitioners and their representatives, officers, and agents, unlawfully conspired to picket, boycott, and ruin the respondent’s business in its stores, particularly the store at 1936 Eleventh Street. This is denied by the answer.

The bill says that the described conduct of petitioners will continue until , respondent complies with petitioners’ demands; is and will continue to be dangerous to the life and health of persons on the highway, to property thereon, and to respondent’s employes, its property, and business and will cause respondent irreparable injury; the petitioners’ acts are unlawful, constitute a conspiracy in *559restraint of trade, and, if continued, will ruin the respondent’s business. The answer denies these allegations so far as they constitute assertions of fact.

The case, then, as it stood for judgment, was this: The petitioners requested the respondent to adopt a policy of employing Negro clerks in certain of its stores in the course of personnel changes; the respondent ignored the request and the petitioners caused one person to patrol in front of one of the respondent’s stores on one day carrying a placard which said: “Do Your Part! Buy Where You Can Work! No Negroes Employed Here!” and caused or threatened a similar patrol of two other stores of respondent. The information borne by the placard was true. The patrolling did not coerce or intimidate respondent’s customers; did not physically obstruct, interfere with, or harass persons desiring to enter the store, the picket acted in an orderly manner, and his conduct did not cause crowds to gather in front of the store.

The trial judge was of the view that the laws relating to labor disputes had no application to the case. He entered a decree enjoining the petitioners and their agents and employes from picketing or patrolling any of the respondent’s stores, boycotting or urging others to boycott respondent; restraining them, whether by inducements, threats, intimidation or actual or threatened physical force from hindering any person entering respondent’s places of business, from destroying or damaging or threatening to destroy or damage respondent’s property and from aiding or abetting others in doing any of the prohibited things. The Court of Appeals thought that the dispute was not a labor dispute within the Norris-LaGuardia Act because it did not involve terms and conditions of employment such as wages, hours, unionization or betterment of working conditions, and that the trial court, therefore, had jurisdiction to issue the injunction. We think the conclusion that the dispute was not a labor dispute *560within the meaning of the Act, because it did not involve terms and conditions of employment in the sense of wages, hours, unionization or betterment of working conditions is erroneous.

Subsection (a) of § 13 provides: “A case shall be held to involve or to grow out of a labor dispute when the case involves persons who are engaged in the same industry, trade, craft, or occupation; or have direct or indirect interests therein; ... or when the case involves any conflicting or competing interests in a ‘labor dispute’ (as hereinafter defined) of ‘persons participating or interested’ therein (as hereinafter defined).” Subsection (b) characterizes a person or association as participating or interested in a labor dispute “if relief is sought against him or it and if he or it . . . has a direct or indirect interest therein, . . .” Subsection (c) defines the term “labor dispute” as including “any controversy concerning terms or conditions of employment, . . . regardless of whether or not the disputants stand in the proximate relation of employer and employee.” These definitions plainly embrace the controversy which gave rise to the instant suit and classify it as one arising out of a dispute defined as a labor dispute. They leave no doubt that The New Negro Alliance and the individual petitioners are, in contemplation of the Act, persons interested in the dispute.3

In quoting the clauses of § 13 we have omitted those that deal with disputes between employers and employes and disputes between associations of persons engaged in a particular trade or craft, and employers in the same industry. It is to be noted, however, that the inclusion in the definitions of such disputes, and the persons interested in them, serves to emphasize the fact that the quoted portions were intended to embrace contro*561versies other than those between employers and employes; between labor unions seeking to represent employes and employers; and between persons seeking employment and employers.

The Act does not concern itself with the background or the motives of the dispute. The desire for fair and equitable conditions of employment on the part of persons of any race, color, or persuasion, and the removal of discriminations against them by reason of their race or religious beliefs is quite as important to those concerned as fairness and equity in terms and conditions of employment can be to trade or craft unions or any form of labor organization or association. Race discrimination by an employer may reasonably be deemed more unfair and less excusable than discrimination against workers on the ground of union affiliation. There is no justification in the apparent purposes or the express terms of the Act for limiting its definition of labor disputes and cases arising therefrom by excluding those which arise with respect to discrimination in terms and conditions of employment based upon differences of race or color.

The purpose and policy of the Act respecting the jurisdiction of the federal courts is set forth in §§ 4 and 7. The former deprives those courts of jurisdiction to issue an injunction against, inter alia, giving publicity to the existence of, or the facts involved in, any labor dispute, whether by advertising, speaking, patrolling, or by any other method not involving fraud or violence; against assembling peaceably to act or to organize to act in promotion of interests in a labor dispute; against advising or notifying any person of an intention to do any of the acts specified; against agreeing with other persons to do any of the acts specified.4 Section 7 deprives the *562courts of jurisdiction to issue an injunction in any case involving or growing out of a labor dispute, except after hearing sworn testimony in open court in support of the allegations of the complaint, and upon findings of fact to the effect (a) that unlawful acts have been threatened and will be committed unless restrained, or have been committed and will be continued, unless restrained, and then only against the person or persons, association or organization making the threat or permitting the unlawful act or authorizing or ratifying it; (b) that substantial and irreparable injury to complainant’s property will follow; (c) that, as to each item of relief granted, greater injury will be inflicted upon the complainant by denial of the relief than will be inflicted on the defendant by granting it; (d) that complainant has no adequate remedy at law, and (e) that the public officers charged with the duty to protect complainant’s property are unable or unwilling to furnish adequate protection.5

The legislative history of the Act demonstrates that it was the purpose of the Congress further to extend the prohibitions of the Clayton Act6 respecting the exercise of jurisdiction by federal courts and to obviate the results of the judicial construction of that Act.7 It was intended that peaceful and orderly dissemination of information by those defined as persons interested in a labor dispute concerning “terms and conditions of employment” in an industry or a plant or a place of business should be lawful; that, short of fraud, breach of the *563peace, violence, or conduct otherwise unlawful, those having a direct or indirect interest in such terms and conditions of employment should be at liberty to advertise and disseminate facts and information with respect to terms and conditions of employment, and peacefully to persuade others to concur in their views respecting an employer’s practices.8 The District Court erred in not complying with the provisions of the Act.

The decree must be reversed and the cause remanded to the District Court for further proceedings in conformity with this opinion.

Reversed.

Mr. Justice Cardozo took no part in the consideration or decision of this case.

Mr. Justice McReynolds, dissenting.

Mr. Justice Butler

and I cannot accept the view that a “labor dispute” emerges whenever an employer fails to respond to a communication from A, B and C— irrespective of their race, character, reputation, fitness, previous or present employment—suggesting displeasure because of his choice of employes and their expectation that in the future he will not fail to select men of their complexion.

It seems unbelievable that, in all such circumstances, 'Congress intended to inhibit courts from extending protection long guaranteed by law and thus, in effect, encourage mobbish interference with the individual’s liberty of action. Under the tortured meaning now attributed to the words “labor dispute,” no employer-merchant, manufacturer, builder, cobbler, housekeeper or what not.—who *564prefers helpers of one color or class can find adequate safeguard against intolerable violations of his freedom if members of some other class, religion, race or color demand that he give them precedence.*

Design thus to promote strife, encourage trespass and stimulate intimidation, ought not to be admitted where, as here, not plainly avowed. The ultimate result of the view now approved to the very people whom present petitioners claim to represent, it may be, is prefigured by the grievous plight of minorities in lands where the law has become a mere political instrument.

15.7 Bethel School District No. 403 v. Fraser 15.7 Bethel School District No. 403 v. Fraser

BETHEL SCHOOL DISTRICT NO. 403 et al. v. FRASER, a minor, et al.

No. 84-1667.

Argued March 3, 1986

Decided July 7, 1986

*676BURGER, C. J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which White, Powell, Rehnquist, and O’Connor, JJ., joined. Brennan, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment, post, p. 687. Blackmun, J., concurred in the result. Marshall, J., post, p. 690, and Stevens, J., post, p. 691, filed dissenting opinions.

*677William A. Coats argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs was Clifford D. Foster, Jr.

Jeffrey T. Haley argued the cause for respondents. With him on the brief was Charles S. Sims.*

Chief Justice Burger

delivered the opinion of the Court.

We granted certiorari to decide whether the First Amendment prevents a school district from disciplining a high school student for giving a lewd speech at a school assembly.

I

A

On April 26, 1983, respondent Matthew N. Fraser, a student at Bethel High School in Pierce County, Washington, delivered a speech nominating a fellow student for student elective office. Approximately 600 high school students, many of whom were 14-year-olds, attended the assembly. Students were required to attend the assembly or to report to the study hall. The assembly was part of a school-sponsored educational program in self-government. Students who elected not to attend the assembly were required to report to study hall. During the entire speech, Fraser re*678ferred to his candidate in terms of an elaborate, graphic, and explicit sexual metaphor.

Two of Fraser’s teachers, with whom he discussed the contents of his speech in advance, informed him that the speech was “inappropriate and that he probably should not deliver it,” App. 30, and that his delivery of the speech might have “severe consequences.” Id., at 61.

During Fraser’s delivery of the speech, a school counselor observed the reaction of students to the speech. Some students hooted and yelled; some by gestures graphically simulated the sexual activities pointedly alluded to in respondent’s speech. Other students appeared to be bewildered and embarrassed by the speech. One teacher reported that on the day following the speech, she found it necessary to forgo a portion of the scheduled class lesson in order to discuss the speech with the class. Id., at 41-44.

A Bethel High School disciplinary rule prohibiting the use of obscene language in the school provides:

“Conduct which materially and substantially interferes with the educational process is prohibited, including the use of obscene, profane language or gestures.”

The morning after the assembly, the Assistant Principal called Fraser into her office and notified him that the school considered his speech to have been a violation of this rule. Fraser was presented with copies of five letters submitted by teachers, describing his conduct at the assembly; he was given a chance to explain his conduct, and he admitted to having given the speech described and that he deliberately used sexual innuendo in the speech. Fraser was then informed that he would be suspended for three days, and that his name would be removed from the list of candidates for graduation speaker at the school’s commencement exercises.

Fraser sought review of this disciplinary action through the School District’s grievance procedures. The hearing officer determined that the speech given by respondent was “indecent, lewd, and offensive to the modesty and decency of *679many of the students and faculty in attendance at the assembly.” The examiner determined that the speech fell within the ordinary meaning of “obscene,” as used in the disruptive-conduct rule, and affirmed the discipline in its entirety. Fraser served two days of his suspension, and was allowed to return to school on the third day.

B

Respondent, by his father as guardian ad litem, then brought this action in the United States District Court for the Western District of Washington. Respondent alleged a violation of his First Amendment right to freedom of speech and sought both injunctive relief and monetary damages under 42 U. S. C. § 1983. The District Court held that the school’s sanctions violated respondent’s right to freedom of speech under the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, that the school’s disruptive-conduct rule is unconstitutionally vague and overbroad, and that the removal of respondent’s name from the graduation speaker’s list violated the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment because the disciplinary rule makes no mention of such removal as a possible sanction. The District Court awarded respondent $278 in damages, $12,750 in litigation costs and attorney’s fees, and enjoined the School District from preventing respondent from speaking at the commencement ceremonies. Respondent, who had been elected graduation speaker by a -write-in vote of his classmates, delivered a speech at the commencement ceremonies on June 8, 1983.

The Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit affirmed the judgment of the District Court, 755 F. 2d 1356 (1985), holding that respondent’s speech was indistinguishable from the protest armband in Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503 (1969). The court explicitly rejected the School District’s argument that the speech, unlike the passive conduct of wearing a black armband, had a disruptive effect on the educational process. The Court of *680Appeals also rejected the School District’s argument that it had an interest in protecting an essentially captive audience of minors from lewd and indecent language in a setting sponsored by the school, reasoning that the School District’s “unbridled discretion” to determine what discourse is “decent” would “increase the risk of cementing white, middle-class standards for determining what is acceptable and proper speech and behavior in our public schools.” 755 F. 2d, at 1363. Finally, the Court of Appeals rejected the School District’s argument that, incident to its responsibility for the school curriculum, it had the power to control the language used to express ideas during a school-sponsored activity.

We granted certiorari, 474 U. S. 814 (1985). We reverse.

I — I I — I

This Court acknowledged in Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., supra, that students do not “shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate.” Id., at 506. The Court of Appeals read that case as precluding any discipline of Fraser for indecent speech and lewd conduct in the school assembly. That court appears to have proceeded on the theory that the use of lewd and obscene speech in order to make what the speaker considered to be a point in a nominating speech for a fellow student was essentially the same as the wearing of an armband in Tinker as a form of protest or the expression of a political position.

The marked distinction between the political “message” of the armbands in Tinker and the sexual content of respondent’s speech in this case seems to have been given little weight by the Court of Appeals. In upholding the students’ right to engage in a nondisruptive, passive expression of a political viewpoint in Tinker, this Court was careful to note that the case did “not concern speech or action that intrudes upon the work of the schools or the rights of other students.” Id., at 508.

*681It is against this background that we turn to consider the level of First Amendment protection accorded to Fraser’s utterances and actions before an official high school assembly attended by 600 students.

I — i I — I h-H

The role and purpose of the American public school system were well described by two historians, who stated: “[P]ublic education must prepare pupils for citizenship in the Republic. . . . It must inculcate the habits and manners of civility as values in themselves conducive to happiness and as indispensable to the practice of self-government in the community and the nation.” C. Beard & M. Beard, New Basic History of the United States 228 (1968). In Ambach v. Norwick, 441 U. S. 68, 76-77 (1979), we echoed the essence of this statement of the objectives of public education as the “inculcation of] fundamental values necessary to the maintenance of a democratic political system.”

These fundamental values of “habits and manners of civility” essential to a democratic society must, of course, include tolerance of divergent political and religious views, even when the views expressed may be unpopular. But these “fundamental values” must also take into account consideration of the sensibilities of others, and, in the case of a school, the sensibilities of fellow students. The undoubted freedom to advocate unpopular and controversial views in schools and classrooms must be balanced against the society’s countervailing interest in teaching students the boundaries of socially appropriate behavior. Even the most heated political discourse in a democratic society requires consideration for the personal sensibilities of the other participants and audiences.

In our Nation’s legislative halls, where some of the most vigorous political debates in our society are carried on, there are rules prohibiting the use of expressions offensive to other participants in the debate. The Manual of Parliamentary *682Practice, drafted by Thomas Jefferson and adopted by the House of Representatives to govern the proceedings in that body, prohibits the use of “impertinent” speech during debate and likewise provides that “[n]o person is to use indecent language against the proceedings of the House.” Jefferson’s Manual of Parliamentary Practice §§359, 360, reprinted in Manual and Rules of House of Representatives, H. R. Doc. No. 97-271, pp. 158-159 (1982); see id., at 111, n. a (Jefferson’s Manual governs the House in all cases to which it applies). The Rules of Debate applicable in the Senate likewise provide that a Senator may be called to order for imputing improper motives to another Senator or for referring offensively to any state. See Senate Procedure, S. Doc. No. 97-2, Rule XIX, pp. 568-569, 588-591 (1981). Senators have been censured for abusive language directed at other Senators. See Senate Election, Expulsion and Censure Cases from 1793 to 1972, S. Doc. No. 92-7, pp. 95-98 (1972) (Sens. McLaurin and Tillman); id., at 152-153 (Sen. McCarthy). Can it be that what is proscribed in the halls of Congress is beyond the reach of school officials to regulate?

The First Amendment guarantees wide freedom in matters of adult public discourse. A sharply divided Court upheld the right to express an antidraft viewpoint in a public place, albeit in terms highly offensive to most citizens. See Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15 (1971). It does not follow, however, that simply because the use of an offensive form of expression may not be prohibited to adults making what the speaker considers a political point, the same latitude must be permitted to children in a public school. In New Jersey v. T. L. O., 469 U. S. 325, 340-342 (1985), we reaffirmed that the constitutional rights of students in public school are not automatically coextensive with the rights of adults in other settings. As cogently expressed by Judge Newman, “the First Amendment gives a high school student the classroom right to wear Tinker’s armband, but not Cohen’s jacket.” Thomas v. Board of Education, Granville Central School *683Dist., 607 F. 2d 1043, 1057 (CA2 1979) (opinion concurring in result).

Surely it is a highly appropriate function of public school education to prohibit the use of vulgar and offensive terms in public discourse. Indeed, the “fundamental values necessary to the maintenance of a democratic political system” disfavor the use of terms of debate highly offensive or highly threatening to others. Nothing in the Constitution prohibits the states from insisting that certain modes of expression are inappropriate and subject to sanctions. The inculcation of these values is truly the “work of the schools.” Tinker, 393 U. S., at 508; see Ambach v. Norwick, supra. The determination of what manner of speech in the classroom or in school assembly is inappropriate properly rests with the school board.

The process of educating our youth for citizenship in public schools is not confined to books, the curriculum, and the civics class; schools must teach by example the shared values of a civilized social order. Consciously or otherwise, teachers — and indeed the older students — demonstrate the appropriate form of civil discourse and political expression by their conduct and deportment in and out of class. Inescapably, like parents, they are role models. The schools, as instruments of the state, may determine that the essential lessons of civil, mature conduct cannot be conveyed in a school that tolerates lewd, indecent, or offensive speech and conduct such as that indulged in by this confused boy.

The pervasive sexual innuendo in Fraser’s speech was plainly offensive to both teachers and students — indeed to any mature person. By glorifying male sexuality, and in its verbal content, the speech was acutely insulting to teenage girl students. See App. 77-81. The speech could well be seriously damaging to its less mature audience, many of whom were only 14 years old and on the threshold of awareness of human sexuality. Some students were reported as *684bewildered by the speech and the reaction of mimicry it provoked.

This Court’s First Amendment jurisprudence has acknowledged limitations on the otherwise absolute interest of the speaker in reaching an unlimited audience where the speech is sexually explicit and the audience may include children. In Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629 (1968), this Court upheld a New York statute banning the sale of sexually oriented material to minors, even though the material in question was entitled to First Amendment protection with respect to adults. And in addressing the question whether the First Amendment places any limit on the authority of public schools to remove books from a public school library, all Members of the Court, otherwise sharply divided, acknowledged that the school board has the authority to remove books that are vulgar. Board of Education v. Pico, 457 U. S. 853, 871-872 (1982) (plurality opinion); id., at 879-881 (Blackmun, J., concurring in part and in judgment); id., at 918-920 (Rehnquist, J., dissenting). These cases recognize the obvious concern on the part of parents, and school authorities acting in loco parentis, to protect children — especially in a captive audience — from exposure to sexually explicit, indecent, or lewd speech.

We have also recognized an interest in protecting minors from exposure to vulgar and offensive spoken language. In FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S. 726 (1978), we dealt with the power of the Federal Communications Commission to regulate a radio broadcast described as “indecent but not obscene.” There the Court reviewed an administrative condemnation of the radio broadcast of a self-styled “humorist” who described his own performance as being in “the words you couldn’t say on the public, ah, airwaves, um, the ones you definitely wouldn’t say ever.” Id., at 729; see also id., at 751-755 (Appendix to opinion of the Court). The Commission concluded that “certain words depicted sexual and excretory activities in a patently offensive manner, [and] noted *685that they 'were broadcast at a time when children were undoubtedly in the audience.’” The Commission issued an order declaring that the radio station was guilty of broadcasting indecent language in violation of 18 U. S. C. § 1464. 438 U. S., at 732. The Court of Appeals set aside the Commission’s determination, and we reversed, reinstating the Commission’s citation of the station. We concluded that the broadcast was properly considered “obscene, indecent, or profane” within the meaning of the statute. The plurality opinion went on to reject the radio station’s assertion of a First Amendment right to broadcast vulgarity:

“These words offend for the same reasons that obscenity offends. Their place in the hierarchy of First Amendment values was aptly sketched by Mr. Justice Murphy when he said: ‘[S]uch utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.’ Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S., at 572.” Id., at 746.

We hold that petitioner School District acted entirely within its permissible authority in imposing sanctions upon Fraser in response to his offensively lewd and indecent speech. Unlike the sanctions imposed on the students wearing armbands in Tinker, the penalties imposed in this case were unrelated to any political viewpoint. The First Amendment does not prevent the school officials from determining that to permit a vulgar and lewd speech such as respondent’s would undermine the school’s basic educational mission. A high school assembly or classroom is no place for a sexually explicit monologue directed towards an unsuspecting audience of teenage students. Accordingly, it was perfectly appropriate for the school to disassociate itself to make the point to the pupils that vulgar speech and lewd conduct is wholly inconsistent with the “fundamental values” of public *686school education. Justice Black, dissenting in Tinker, made a point that is especially relevant in this case:

“I wish therefore, ... to disclaim any purpose ... to hold that the Federal Constitution compels the teachers, parents, and elected school officials to surrender control of the American public school system to public school students.” 393 U. S., at 526.

IV

Respondent contends that the circumstances of his suspension violated due process because he had no way of knowing that the delivery of the speech in question would subject him to disciplinary sanctions. This argument is wholly without merit. We have recognized that “maintaining security and order in the schools requires a certain degree of flexibility in school disciplinary procedures, and we have respected the value of preserving the informality of the student-teacher relationship.” New Jersey v. T. L. O., 469 U. S., at 340. Given the school’s need to be able to impose disciplinary sanctions for a wide range of unanticipated conduct disruptive of the educational process, the school disciplinary rules need not be as detailed as a criminal code which imposes criminal sanctions. Cf. Arnett v. Kennedy, 416 U. S. 134, 161 (1974) (Rehnquist, J., concurring). Two days’ suspension from school does not rise to the level of a penal sanction calling for the full panoply of procedural due process protections applicable to a criminal prosecution. Cf. Goss v. Lopez, 419 U. S. 565 (1975). The school disciplinary rule proscribing “obscene” language and the prespeech admonitions of teachers gave adequate warning to Fraser that his lewd speech could subject him to sanctions.*

*687The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit is

Reversed.

Justice Blackmun concurs in the result.

Justice Brennan,

concurring in the judgment.

Respondent gave the following speech at a high school assembly in support of a candidate for student government office:

“T know a man who is firm — he’s firm in his pants, he’s firm in his shirt, his character is firm — but most ... of all, his belief in you, the students of Bethel, is firm.
“‘Jeff Kuhlman is a man who takes his point and pounds it in. If necessary, he’ll take an issue and nail it to the wall. He doesn’t attack things in spurts — he drives hard, pushing and pushing until finally — he succeeds.
‘“Jeff is a man who will go to the very end — even the climax, for each and every one of you.
‘“So vote for Jeff for A. S. B. vice-president — he’ll never come between you and the best our high school can be.’” App. 47.

The Court, referring to these remarks as “obscene,” “vulgar,” “lewd,” and “offensively lewd,” concludes that school officials properly punished respondent for uttering the speech. Having read the full text of respondent’s remarks, I find it difficult to believe that it is the same speech the Court describes. To my mind, the most that can be said about respondent’s speech — and all that need be said — is that in light of the discretion school officials have to teach high school students how to conduct civil and effective public discourse, and to prevent disruption of school educational activities, it was *688not unconstitutional for school officials to conclude, under the circumstances of this case, that respondent’s remarks exceeded permissible limits. Thus, while I concur in the Court’s judgment, I write separately to express my understanding of the breadth of the Court’s holding.

The Court today reaffirms the unimpeachable proposition that students do not “‘shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate.’” Ante, at 680 (quoting Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503, 506 (1969)). If respondent had given the same speech outside of the school environment, he could not have been penalized simply because government officials considered his language to be inappropriate, see Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15 (1971); the Court’s opinion does not suggest otherwise.1 Moreover, despite the Court’s characterizations, the language respondent used is far removed from the very narrow class of “obscene” speech which the Court has held is not protected by the First Amendment. Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629, 635 (1968); Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, 485 (1957). It is true, however, that the State has interests in teaching high school students how to conduct civil and effective public discourse and in avoiding disruption of educational school activities. Thus, the Court holds that under certain circumstances, high school students may properly be reprimanded for giving a speech at a high school assembly which school officials conclude disrupted the school’s educational *689mission.2 Respondent’s speech may well have been protected had he given it in school but under different circumstances, where the school’s legitimate interests in teaching and maintaining civil public discourse were less weighty.

In the present case, school officials sought only to ensure that a high school assembly proceed in an orderly manner. There is no suggestion that school officials attempted to regulate respondent’s speech because they disagreed with the views he sought to express. Cf. Tinker, supra. Nor does this case involve an attempt by school officials to ban written materials they consider “inappropriate” for high school students, cf. Board of Education v. Pico, 457 U. S. 853 (1982), or to limit what students should hear, read, or learn about. Thus, the Court’s holding concerns only the authority that school officials have to restrict a high school student’s use of disruptive language in a speech given to a high school assembly.

The authority school officials have to regulate such speech by high school students is not limitless. See Thomas v. Board of Education, Granville Central School Dist., 607 F. 2d 1043, 1057 (CA2 1979) (Newman, J., concurring in result) (“[S]chool officials ... do [not] have limitless discretion to apply their own notions of indecency. Courts have a First *690Amendment responsibility to insure that robust rhetoric . . . is not suppressed by prudish failures to distinguish the vigorous from the vulgar”). Under the circumstances of this case, however, I believe that school officials did not violate the First Amendment in determining that respondent should be disciplined for the disruptive language he used while addressing a high school assembly.3 Thus, I concur in the judgment reversing the decision of the Court of Appeals.

Justice Marshall,

dissenting.

I agree with the principles that Justice Brennan sets out in his opinion concurring in the judgment. I dissent from the Court’s decision, however, because in my view the School District failed to demonstrate that respondent’s remarks were indeed disruptive. The District Court and Court of Appeals conscientiously applied Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503 (1969), and concluded that the School District had not demonstrated any disruption of the educational process. I recognize that the school administration must be given wide latitude to determine what forms of conduct are inconsistent with the school’s educational mission; nevertheless, where speech is involved, we may not unquestioningly accept a teacher’s or administrator’s assertion that certain pure speech interfered with education. Here the School District, despite a clear opportunity to do so, failed to bring in evidence sufficient to convince either of the two lower courts that education at Bethel School was disrupted by respondent’s speech. I therefore see no reason to disturb the Court of Appeals’ judgment.

*691Justice Stevens,

dissenting.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

When I was a high school student, the use of those words in a public forum shocked the Nation. Today Clark Gable’s four-letter expletive is less offensive than it was then. Nevertheless, I assume that high school administrators may prohibit the use of that word in classroom discussion and even in extracurricular activities that are sponsored by the school and held on school premises. For I believe a school faculty must regulate the content as well as the style of student speech in carrying out its educational mission.1 It does seem to me, however, that if a student is to be punished for using offensive speech, he is entitled to fair notice of the scope of the prohibition and the consequences of its violation. *692The interest in free speech protected by the First Amendment and the interest in fair procedure protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment combine to require this conclusion.

This respondent was an outstanding young man with a fine academic record. The fact that he was chosen by the student body to speak at the school’s commencement exercises demonstrates that he was respected by his peers. This fact is relevant for two reasons. It confirms the conclusion that the discipline imposed on him — a 3-day suspension and ineligibility to speak at the school’s graduation exercises — was sufficiently serious to justify invocation of the School District’s grievance procedures. See Goss v. Lopez, 419 U. S. 565, 574-575 (1975). More importantly, it indicates that he was probably in a better position to determine whether an audience composed of 600 of his contemporaries would be offended by the use of a four-letter word — or a sexual metaphor — than is a group of judges who are at least two generations and 3,000 miles away from the scene of the crime.2

The fact that the speech may not have been offensive to his audience — or that he honestly believed that it would be inoffensive-does not mean that he had a constitutional right to deliver it. For the school — not the student —must prescribe the rules of conduct in an educational institution.3 But it *693does mean that he should not be disciplined for speaking frankly in a school assembly if he had no reason to anticipate punitive consequences.

One might conclude that respondent should have known that he would be punished for giving this speech on three quite different theories: (1) It violated the “Disruptive Conduct” rule published in the student handbook; (2) he was specifically warned by his teachers; or (3) the impropriety is so obvious that no specific notice was required. I discuss each theory in turn.

The Disciplinary Rule

At the time the discipline was imposed, as well as in its defense of this lawsuit, the school took the position that respondent violated the following published rule:

“‘In addition to the criminal acts defined above, the commission of, or participation in certain noncriminal activities or acts may lead to disciplinary action. Generally, these are acts which disrupt and interfere with the educational process.
“‘Disruptive Conduct. Conduct which materially and substantially interferes.with the educational process is prohibited, including the use of obscene, profane language or gestures.”’ 755 F. 2d 1356, 1357, n. 1 (CA9 1985).

Based on the findings of fact made by the District Court, the Court of Appeals concluded that the evidence did not show “that the speech had a materially disruptive effect on the educational process.” Id., at 1361. The Court of Appeals explained the basis for this conclusion:

“[T]he record now before us yields no evidence that Fraser’s use of a sexual innuendo in his speech materially interfered with activities at Bethel High School. While the students’ reaction to Fraser’s speech may fairly be characterized as boisterous, it was hardly dis*694ruptive of the educational process. In the words of Mr. McCutcheon, the school counselor whose testimony the District relies upon, the reaction of the student body ‘was not atypical to a high school auditorium assembly.’ In our view, a noisy response to the speech and sexually suggestive movements by three students in a crowd of 600 fail to rise to the level of a material interference with the educational process that justifies impinging upon Fraser’s First Amendment right to express himself freely.
“We find it significant that although four teachers delivered written statements to an assistant principal commenting on Fraser’s speech, none of them suggested that the speech disrupted the assembly or otherwise interfered with school activities. See, Finding of Fact No. 8. Nor can a finding of material disruption be based upon the evidence that the speech proved to be a lively topic of conversation among students the following day.” Id., at 1860-1361.

Thus, the evidence in the record, as interpreted by the District Court and the Court of Appeals, makes it perfectly clear that respondent’s speech was not “conduct” prohibited by the disciplinary rule.4 Indeed, even if the language of the rule could be stretched to encompass the nondisruptive use of obscene or profane language, there is no such language in respondent’s speech. What the speech does contain is a sexual metaphor that may unquestionably be offensive to some listeners in some settings. But if an impartial judge puts his *695or her own views about the metaphor to one side, I simply cannot understand how he or she could conclude that it is embraced by the above-quoted rule. At best, the rule is sufficiently ambiguous that without a further explanation or construction it could not advise the reader of the student handbook that the speech would be forbidden.5

The Specific Warning by the Teachers

Respondent read his speech to three different teachers before he gave it. Mrs. Irene Hicks told him that she thought the speech “was inappropriate and that he probably should not deliver it.” App. 30. Steven DeHart told respondent “that this would indeed cause problems in that it would raise eyebrows.” Id., at 61. The third teacher, Shawn Madden, did not testify. None of the three suggested that the speech might violate a school rule. Id., at 49-50.

The fact that respondent reviewed the text of his speech with three different teachers before he gave it does indicate that he must have been aware of the possibility that it would provoke an adverse reaction, but the teachers’ responses certainly did not give him any better notice of the likelihood of discipline than did the student handbook itself. In my opinion, therefore, the most difficult question is whether the speech was so obviously offensive that an intelligent high school student must be presumed to have realized that he would be punished for giving it.

*696 Obvious Impropriety

Justice Sutherland taught us that a “nuisance may be merely a right thing in the wrong place, — like a pig in the parlor instead of the barnyard.” Euclid v. Ambler Realty Co., 272 U. S. 365, 388 (1926). Vulgar language, like vulgar animals, may be acceptable in some contexts and intolerable in others. See FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S. 726, 750 (1978). Indeed, even ordinary, inoffensive speech may be wholly unacceptable in some settings. See Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47, 52 (1919); Pacifica, supra, at 744-745.

It seems fairly obvious that respondent’s speech would be inappropriate in certain classroom and formal social settings. On the other hand, in a locker room or perhaps in a school corridor the metaphor in the speech might be regarded as rather routine comment. If this be true, and if respondent’s audience consisted almost entirely of young people with whom he conversed on a daily basis, can we — at this distance — confidently assert that he must have known that the school administration would punish him for delivering it?

For three reasons, I think not. First, it seems highly unlikely that he would have decided to deliver the speech if he had known that it would result in his suspension and disqualification from delivering the school commencement address. Second, I believe a strong presumption in favor of free expression should apply whenever an issue of this kind is arguable. Third, because the Court has adopted the policy of applying contemporary community standards in evaluating expression with sexual connotations, this Court should defer to the views of the district and circuit judges who are in a much better position to evaluate this speech than we are.

I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals.

15.8 Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire 15.8 Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire

CHAPLINSKY v. NEW HAMPSHIRE.

No. 255.

Argued February 5, 1942.

Decided March 9, 1942.

Mr. Hayden C. Covington, with whom Mr. Joseph F. Rutherford was on the brief, for appellant. Mr. Alfred A. Albert entered an appearance.

Mr. Frank R. Kenison, Attorney General of New Hampshire, with whom Mr. John F. Beamis, Jr. was on the brief, for appellee.

*569Mr. Justice Murphy

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Appellant, a member of the sect known as Jehovah’s Witnesses, was convicted in the municipal court of Rochester, New Hampshire, for violation of Chapter 378, § 2, of the Public Laws of New Hampshire:

“No person shall address any offensive, derisive or annoying word to any other person who is lawfully in any street or other public place, nor call him by any offensive or derisive name, nor make any noise or exclamation in his presence and hearing with intent to deride, offend or annoy him, or to prevent him from pursuing his lawful business or occupation.”

The complaint charged that appellant, “with force and arms, in a certain public place in said city of Rochester, to wit, on the public sidewalk on the easterly side of Wake-field Street, near unto the entrance of the City Hall, did unlawfully repeat, the words following, addressed to the complainant, that is to say, ‘You are a God damned racketeer’ and ‘a damned Fascist and the whole government of Rochester are Fascists or agents of Fascists,’ the same being offensive, derisive and annoying words and names.”

Upon appeal there was a trial de novo of appellant before a jury in the Superior Court. He was found guilty and the judgment of conviction was affirmed by the Supreme Court of the State. 91 N. H. 310, 18 A. 2d 754.

By motions and exceptions, appellant raised the questions that the statute was invalid under the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States, in that it placed an unreasonable restraint on freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and freedom of worship, and because it was vague and indefinite. These contentions were overruled and the case comes here on appeal.

There is no substantial dispute over the facts. Chaplin-sky was distributing the literature of his sect on the streets *570of Rochester on a busy Saturday afternoon. Members of the local citizenry complained to the City Marshal, Bowering, that Chaplinsky was denouncing all religion as a “racket.” Bowering told them that Chaplinsky was lawfully engaged, and then warned Chaplinsky that the crowd was getting restless. Some time later, a disturbance occurred and the traffic officer on duty at the busy intersection started with Chaplinsky for the police station, but did not inform him that he was under arrest or that he was going to be arrested. On the way, they encountered Marshal Bowering, who had been advised that a riot was under way and was therefore hurrying to the scene. Bowering repeated his earlier warning to Chaplinsky, who then addressed to Bowering the words set forth in the complaint.

Chaplinsky’s version of the affair was slightly different. He testified that, when he met Bowering, he asked him to arrest the ones responsible for the disturbance. In reply, Bowering cursed him and told him to come along. Appellant admitted that he said the words charged in the complaint, with the exception of the name of the Deity.

Over appellant’s objection the trial court excluded, as immaterial, testimony relating to appellant’s mission “to preach the true facts of the Bible,” his treatment at the hands of the crowd, and the alleged neglect of duty on the part of the police. This action was approved by the court below, which held that neither provocation nor the truth of the utterance would constitute a defense to the charge.

It is now clear that “Freedom of speech and freedom of the press, which are protected by the First Amendment from infringement by Congress, are among the fundamental personal rights and liberties which are protected by the Fourteenth Amendment from invasion by state *571action.” Lovell v. Griffin, 303 U. S. 444, 450.1 Freedom of worship is similarly sheltered. Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 303.

Appellant assails the statute as a violation of all three freedoms, speech, press and worship, but only an attack on the basis of free speech is warranted. The spoken, not the written, word is involved. And we cannot conceive that cursing a public officer is the exercise of religion in any sense of the term. But even if the activities of the appellant which preceded the incident could be viewed as religious in character, and therefore entitled to the protection of the Fourteenth Amendment, they would not cloak him with immunity from the legal consequences for concomitant acts committed in violation of a valid criminal statute. We turn, therefore, to an examination of the statute itself.

Allowing the broadest scope to the language and purpose of the Fourteenth Amendment, it is well understood that the right of free speech is not absolute at all times and under all circumstances.2 There are certain well-defined and narrowly limited classes of speech, the prevention *572and punishment of which have never been thought to raise any Constitutional problem.3 These include the lewd and obscene, the profane, the libelous, and the insulting or “fighting” words — those which by their very utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace.4 It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.5 “Resort to epithets or personal abuse is not in any proper sense communication of information or opinion safeguarded by the Constitution, and its punishment as a criminal act would raise no question under that instrument.” Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 309-310.

The state statute here challenged comes to us authoritatively construed by the highest court of New Hampshire. It has two provisions — the first relates to words or names addressed to another in a public place; the second refers to noises and exclamations. The court said: “The two provisions are distinct. One may stand separately from the other. Assuming, without holding, that the second were unconstitutional, the first could stand if constitutional.” We accept that construction of severability and limit our consideration to the first provision of the statute.6

*573On the authority of its earlier decisions, the state court declared that the statute’s purpose was to preserve the public peace, no words being “forbidden except such as have a direct tendency to cause acts of violence by the persons to whom, individually, the remark is addressed.”7 It was further said: “The word 'offensive’ is not to be defined in terms of what a particular addressee thinks. . . . The test is what men of common intelligence would understand would be words likely to cause an average addressee to fight. . . . The English language has a number of words and expressions which by general consent are 'fighting words’ when said without a disarming smile. . . . Such words, as ordinary men know, are likely to cause a fight. So are threatening, profane or obscene revilings. Derisive and annoying words can be taken as coming within the purview of the statute as heretofore interpreted only when they have this characteristic of plainly tending to excite the addressee to a breach of the peace. . . . The statute, as construed, does no more than prohibit the face-to-face words plainly likely to cause a breach of the peace by the addressee, words whose speaking constitutes a breach of the peace by the speaker— including 'classical fighting words’, words in current use less 'classical’ but equally likely to cause violence, and other disorderly words, including profanity, obscenity and threats.”

We are unable to say that the limited scope of the statute as thus construed contravenes the Constitutional right of free expression. It is a statute narrowly drawn and limited to define and punish specific conduct lying within the domain of state power, the use in a public place of words likely to cause a breach of the peace. Cf. Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 311; Thornhill v. Alabama, *574310 U. S. 88, 105. This conclusion necessarily disposes of appellant’s contention that the statute is so vague and indefinite as to render a conviction thereunder a violation of due process. A statute punishing verbal acts, carefully drawn so as not unduly to impair liberty of expression,‘is not too vague for a criminal law. Cf. Fox v. Washington, 236 U. S. 273, 277.8

Nor can we say that the application of the statute to the facts disclosed by the record substantially or unreasonably impinges upon the privilege of free speech. Argument is unnecessary to demonstrate that the appellations “damned racketeer” and “damned Fascist” are epithets likely to provoke the average person to retaliation, and thereby cause a breach of the peace.

The refusal of the state court to admit evidence of provocation and evidence bearing on the truth or falsity of the utterances, is open to no Constitutional objection. Whether the facts sought to be proved by such evidence constitute a defense to the charge, or may be shown in mitigation, are questions for the state court to determine. Our function is fulfilled by a determination that the challenged statute, on its face and as applied, does not contravene the Fourteenth Amendment.

Affirmed.

15.9 Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson 15.9 Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson

JOSEPH BURSTYN, INC. v. WILSON, COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION OF NEW YORK, et al.

No. 522.

Argued April 24, 1952.

Decided May 26, 1952.

*496Ephraim S. London argued the cause and filed a brief for appellant.

Charles A. Brind, Jr. and Wendell P. Brown, Solicitor General of New York, argued the cause for appellees. With them on the brief were Nathaniel L. Goldstein, Attorney General of New York, and Ruth Kessler Toch, Assistant Attorney General.

Morris L. Ernst, Osmond K. Fraenkel, Arthur Garfield Hays, Herbert Monte Levy, Emanuel Redfield, Shad Polier, Will Maslow, Leo Pfeffer, Herman Seid and Eberhard P. Deutsch filed a brief for the American Civil Liberties Union et al., as amici curiae, urging reversal.

Charles J. Tobin, Edmond B. Butler and Porter R. Chandler filed a brief for the New York State Catholic Welfare Committee, as amicus curiae, urging affirmance.

*497Mr. Justice Clark

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The issue here is the constitutionality, under the First and Fourteenth Amendments, of a New York statute which permits the banning of motion picture films on the ground that they are “sacrilegious.” That statute makes it unlawful “to exhibit, or to sell, lease or lend for exhibition at any place of amusement for pay or in connection with any business in the state of New York, any motion picture film or reel [with specified exceptions not relevant here], unless there is at the time in full force and effect a valid license or permit therefor of the education department . ...”1 The statute further provides:

“The director of the [motion picture] division [of the education department] or, when authorized by the regents, the officers of a local office or bureau shall cause to be promptly examined every motion picture film submitted to them as herein required, and unless such film or a part thereof is obscene, indecent, immoral, inhuman, sacrilegious, or is of such a character that its exhibition would tend to corrupt morals or incite to crime, shall issue a license therefor. If such director or, when so authorized, such officer shall not license any film submitted, he shall furnish to the applicant therefor a written report of the reasons for his refusal and a description of each rejected part of a film not rejected in toto.” 2

Appellant is a corporation engaged in the business of distributing motion pictures. It owns the exclusive rights to distribute throughout the United States a film produced in Italy entitled “The Miracle.” On November 30, 1950, after having examined the picture, the motion picture division of the New York education depart*498ment, acting under the statute quoted above, issued to appellant a license authorizing exhibition of “The Miracle,” with English subtitles, as one part of a trilogy-called “Ways of Love.” 3 Thereafter, for a period of approximately eight weeks, “Ways of Love” was exhibited publicly in a motion picture theater in New York City under an agreement between appellant and the owner of the theater whereby appellant received a stated percentage of the admission price.

During this period, the New York State Board of Regents, which by statute is made the head of the education department,4 received “hundreds of letters, telegrams, post cards, affidavits and other communications” both protesting against and defending the public exhibition of “The Miracle.” 5 The Chancellor of the Board of Regents requested three members of the Board to view the picture and to make a report to the entire Board. After viewing the film, this committee reported to the Board that in its opinion there was basis for the claim that the picture was “sacrilegious.” Thereafter, on January 19, 1951, the Regents directed appellant to show cause, at a hearing to be held on January 30, why its license to show “The Miracle” should not be rescinded on that ground. Appellant appeared at this hearing, which was conducted by the same three-member committee of the Regénts which had previously viewed the picture, and challenged the jurisdiction of the committee and of the Regents to proceed with the case. With the consent of the committee, various interested persons and *499organizations submitted to it briefs and exhibits bearing upon the merits of the picture and upon the constitutional and statutory questions involved. On February 16, 1951, the Regents, after viewing “The Miracle,” determined that it was “sacrilegious” and for that reason ordered the Commissioner of Education to rescind appellant’s license to exhibit the picture. The Commissioner did so.

Appellant brought the present action in the New York courts to review the determination of the Regents.6 Among the claims advanced by appellant were (1) that the statute violates the Fourteenth Amendment as a prior restraint upon freedom of speech and of the press; (2) that it is invalid under the same Amendment as a violation of the guaranty of separate church and state and as a prohibition of the free exercise of religion; and, (3) that the term “sacrilegious” is so vague and indefinite as to offend due process. The Appellate Division rejected all of appellant’s contentions and upheld the Regents’ determination. 278 App. Div. 253, 104 N. Y. S. 2d 740. On appeal the New York Court of Appeals, two judges dissenting, affirmed the order of the Appellate Division. 303 N. Y. 242, 101 N. E. 2d 665. The case is here on appeal. 28 U. S. C. § 1257 (2).

As we view the case, we need consider only appellant’s contention that the New York statute is an unconstitutional abridgment of free speech and a free press. In Mutual Film Corp. v. Industrial Comm’n, 236 U. S. 230 (1915), a distributor of motion pictures sought to enjoin the enforcement of an Ohio statute which required the prior approval of a board of censors before any motion *500picture could be publicly exhibited in the state, and which directed the board to approve only such films as it adjudged to be “of a moral, educational or amusing and harmless character.” The statute was assailed in part as an unconstitutional abridgment of the freedom of the press guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. The District Court rejected this contention, stating that the first eight Amendments were not a restriction on state action. 215 F. 138, 141 (D. C. N. D. Ohio 1914). On appeal to this Court, plaintiff in its brief abandoned this claim and contended merely that the statute in question violated the freedom of speech and publication guaranteed by the Constitution of Ohio. In affirming the decree of the District Court denying injunctive relief, this Court stated:

“It cannot be put out of view that the exhibition of moving pictures is a business pure and simple, originated and conducted for profit, like other spectacles, not to be regarded, nor intended to be regarded by the Ohio constitution, we think, as part of the press of the country or as organs of public opinion.” 7

In a series of decisions beginning with Gitlow v. New York, 268 U. S. 652 (1925), this Court held that the liberty of speech and of the press which the First Amendment guarantees against abridgment by the federal government is within the liberty safeguarded by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment from invasion by state action.8 That principle has been *501followed and reaffirmed to the present day. Since this series of decisions came after the Mutual decision, the present case is the first to present squarely to us the question whether motion pictures are within the ambit of protection which the First Amendment, through the Fourteenth, secures to any form of “speech” or “the press.” 9

It cannot be doubted that motion pictures are a significant medium for the communication of ideas. They may affect public attitudes and behavior in a variety of ways, ranging from direct espousal of a political or social doctrine to the subtle shaping of thought which characterizes all artistic expression.10 The importance of motion pictures as an organ of public opinion is not lessened by the fact that they are designed to entertain as well as to inform. As was said in Winters v. New York, 333 U. S. 507, 510 (1948):

“The line between the informing and the entertaining is too elusive for the protection of that basic right [a free press]. Everyone is familiar with instances of propaganda through fiction. What is one man’s amusement, teaches another’s doctrine.”

It is urged that motion pictures do not fall within the First Amendment’s aegis because their production, distribution, and exhibition is a large-scale business conducted for private profit. We cannot agree. That books, newspapers, and magazines are published and sold for profit does not prevent them from being a form of expression whose liberty is safeguarded by the First Amend*502ment.11 We fail to see why operation for profit should have any different effect in the case of motion pictures.

It is further urged that motion pictures possess a greater capacity for evil, particularly among the youth of a community, than other modes of expression. Even if one were to accept this hypothesis, it does not follow that motion pictures should be disqualified from First Amendment protection. If there be capacity for evil it may be relevant in determining the permissible scope of community control, but it does not authorize substantially unbridled censorship such as we have here.

For the foregoing reasons, we conclude that expression by means of motion pictures is included within the free speech and free press guaranty of the First and Fourteenth Amendments. To the extent that language in the opinion in Mutual Film Corp. v. Industrial Comm’n, supra, is out of harmony with the views here set forth, we no longer adhere to it.12

To hold that liberty of expression by means of motion pictures is guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments, however, is not the end of our problem. It does not follow that the Constitution requires absolute freedom to exhibit every motion picture of every kind at all times and all places. That much is evident from the series of decisions of this Court with respect to other *503media of communication of ideas.13 Nor does it follow that motion pictures are necessarily subject to the precise rules governing any other particular method of expression. Each method tends to present its own peculiar problems. But the basic principles of freedom of speech and the press, like the First Amendment’s command, do not vary. Those principles, as they have frequently been enunciated by this Court, make freedom of expression the rule. There is no justification in this case for making an exception to that rule.

The statute involved here does not seek to punish, as a past offense, speech or writing falling within the permissible scope of subsequent punishment. On the contrary, New York requires that permission to communicate ideas be obtained in advance from state officials who judge the content of the words and pictures sought to be communicated. This Court recognized many years ago that such a previous restraint is a form of infringement upon freedom of expression to be especially condemned. Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U. S. 697 (1931). The Court there recounted the history which indicates that a major purpose of the First Amendment guaranty of a free press was to prevent prior restraints upon publication, although it was carefully pointed out that the liberty of the press is not limited to that protection.14 It was further stated that “the protection even as to previous restraint is not absolutely unlimited. But the limitation has been recognized only *504in exceptional cases.” Id., at 716. In the light of the First Amendment’s history and of the Near decision, the State has a heavy burden to demonstrate that the limitation challenged here presents such an exceptional case.

New York’s highest court says there is “nothing mysterious” about the statutory provision applied in this case: “It is simply this: that no religion, as that word is understood by the ordinary, reasonable person, shall be treated with contempt, mockery, scorn and ridicule . . . .”15 This is far from the kind of narrow exception to freedom of expression which a state may carve out to satisfy the adverse demands of other interests of society.16 In seeking to apply the broad and all-inclusive definition of “sacrilegious” given by the New York courts, the censor is set adrift upon a boundless sea amid a myriad of conflicting currents of religious views, with no *505charts but those provided by the most vocal and powerful orthodoxies. New York cannot vest such unlimited restraining control over motion pictures in a censor. Cf. Kunz v. New York, 340 U. S. 290 (1951).17 Under such a standard the most careful and tolerant censor would find it virtually impossible to avoid favoring one religion over another, and he would be subject to an inevitable tendency to ban the expression of unpopular sentiments sacred to a religious minority. Application of the “sacrilegious” test, in these or other respects, might raise substantial questions under the First Amendment’s guaranty of separate church and state with freedom of worship for all.18 However, from the standpoint of freedom of speech and the press, it is enough to point out that the state has no legitimate interest in protecting any or all religions from views distasteful to them which is sufficient to justify prior restraints upon the expression of those views. It is not the business of government in our nation to suppress real or imagined attacks upon a particular religious doctrine, whether they appear in publications, speeches, or motion pictures.19

Since the term “sacrilegious” is the sole standard under attack here, it is not necessary for us to decide, for ex*506ample, whether a state may censor motion pictures under a clearly drawn statute designed and applied to prevent the showing of obscene films. That is a very different question from the one now before us.20 We hold only that under the First and Fourteenth Amendments a state may not ban a film on the basis of a censor’s conclusion that it is “sacrilegious.”

Reversed.

Mr. Justice Reed,

concurring in the judgment of the Court.

Assuming that a state may establish a system for the licensing of motion pictures, an issue not foreclosed by the Court’s opinion, our duty requires us to examine the facts of the refusal of a license in each case to determine *507whether the principles of the First Amendment have been honored.- This film does not seem to me to be of a character that the First Amendment permits a state to exclude from public view.

Mr. Justice Frankfurter,

whom Mr. Justice Jackson joins,

concurring in the judgment of the Court;

Mr. Justice Burton, having concurred in the opinion of the Court, also joins this opinion.

A practised hand has thus summarized the story of “The Miracle”:1

“A poor, simple-minded girl is tending a herd of goats on a mountainside one day, when a bearded stranger passes. Suddenly it strikes her fancy that he is St. Joseph, her favorite saint, and that he has come to take her to heaven, where she will be happy and free. While she pleads with him to transport her, the stranger gently plies the girl with wine, and when she is in a state of tumult, he apparently ravishes her. (This incident in the story is only briefly and discreetly implied.)
“The girl awakens later, finds the stranger gone, and climbs down from the mountain not knowing whether he was real or a dream. She meets an old priest who tells her that it is quite possible that she did see a saint, but a younger priest scoffs at the notion. ‘Materialist!' the old priest says.
“There follows now a brief sequence — intended to be symbolic, obviously — -in which the girl is reverently sitting with other villagers in church. Moved by a whim of appetite, she snitches an apple from the basket of a woman next to her. . When she leaves the church, a cackling beggar tries to make her share *508the apple with him, but she chases him away as by habit and munches the fruit contentedly.
“Then, one day, while tending the village youngsters as their mothers work at the vines, the girl faints and the women discover that she is going to have a child. Frightened and bewildered, she suddenly murmurs, ‘It is the grace of God!’ and she runs to the church in great excitement, looks for the statue of St. Joseph, and then prostrates herself on the floor.
“Thereafter she meekly refuses to do any menial work and the housewives humor her gently but the young people are not so kind. In a scene of brutal torment, they first flatter' and laughingly mock her, then they cruelly shove and hit her and clamp a basin as a halo on her head. Even abused by the beggars, the poor girl gathers together her pitiful rags and sadly departs from the village to live alone in a cave.
“When she feels her time coming upon her, she starts back towards the village. But then she sees the crowds in the streets; dark memories haunt her; so she turns towards a church on a high hill and instinctively struggles towards it, crying desperately to God. A goat is her sole companion. She drinks water dripping from a rock. And when she comes to the church and finds the door locked, the goat attracts her to a small side door. Inside the church, the poor girl braces herself for her labor pains. There is a dissolve, and when we next see her sad face, in close-up, it is full of a tender light. There is the cry of an unseen baby. The girl reaches towards it and murmurs, ‘My son! My love! My flesh!’ ”

“The Miracle”— a film lasting forty minutes — was produced in Italy by Roberto Rossellini. Anna Magnani played the lead as the demented goat-tender. It was first shown at the Venice Film Festival in August, 1948, *509combined with another moving picture, “L’Umano Voce,” into a diptych called “Amore.” According to an affidavit from the Director of that Festival, if the motion picture had been “blasphemous” it would have been barred by the Festival Committee. In a review of the film in L’Osservatore Romano, the organ of the Vatican, its film critic, Piero Regnoli, wrote: “Opinions may vary and questions may arise — even serious ones — of a religious nature (not to be diminished by the fact that the woman portrayed is mad [because] the author who attributed madness to her is not mad) . ...”2 While acknowledging that there were “passages of undoubted cinematic distinction,” Regnoli criticized the film as being “on such a pretentiously cerebral plane that it reminds one of the early d’Annunzio.” The Vatican newspaper’s critic concluded: “we continue to believe in Rossellini’s art and we look forward to his next achievement.”3 In October, 1948, a month after the Rome premiere of “The Miracle,” the Vatican’s censorship agency, the Catholic Cinematographic Centre, declared that the picture “constitutes in effect an abominable profanation from religious and moral viewpoints.”4 By the Lateran agreements and the Italian Constitution the Italian Government is bound to bar whatever may offend the Catholic religion. However, the Catholic Cinematographic Centre did not invoke any governmental sanction thereby afforded. The Italian Government’s censorship agency gave “The Miracle” the regular nulla osta clearance. The film was freely shown throughout Italy, but was not a great success.5 Italian movie critics divided in opinion. The critic for II Popolo, speaking for the Christian Democratic Party, the Catholic *510party, profusely praised the picture as a “beautiful thing, humanly felt, alive, true and without religious profanation as someone has said, because in our opinion the meaning of the characters is clear and there is no possibility of misunderstanding.” 6 Regnoli again reviewed “The Miracle” for L’Osservatore Romano.7 After criticising the film for technical faults, he found “the most courageous and interesting passage of Rossellini’s work” in contrasting portrayals in the film; he added: “Unfortunately, concerning morals, it is necessary to note some slight defects.” He objected to its “carnality” and to the representation of illegitimate motherhood. But he did not suggest that the picture was “sacrilegious.” The tone of Regnoli’s critique was one of respect for Rossellini, “the illustrious Italian producer.”8

On March 2, 1949, “The Miracle” was licensed in New York State for showing without English subtitles.9 However, it was never exhibited until after a second license was issued on November 30, 1950, for the trilogy, “Ways of Love,” combining “The Miracle” with two French films, Jean Renoir’s “A Day in the Country” and Marcel Pagnol’s “Jofroi.” 10 All had English subtitles. Both li*511censes were issued in the usual course after viewings of the picture by the Motion Picture Division of the New York State Education Department. The Division is directed by statute to “issue a license” “unless [the] film or a part thereof is obscene, indecent, immoral, inhuman, sacrilegious, or is of such a character that its exhibition would tend to corrupt morals or incite to crime.” N. Y. Education Law, § 122. The trilogy opened on December 12, 1950, at the Paris Theatre on 58th Street in Manhattan. It was promptly attacked as “a sacrilegious and blasphemous mockery of Christian religious truth”11 by the National Legion of Decency, a private Catholic organization for film censorship, whose objectives have intermittently been approved by various non-Catholic church and social groups since its formation in 1933.12 However, the National Board of Review (a non-industry lay organization devoted to raising the level of motion pictures by mobilizing public opinion, under the slogan “Selection Not Censorship”)13 recommended the picture as “especially worth seeing.” New York critics on the whole praised “The Miracle”; those who dispraised did not suggest sacrilege.14 On December 27 the critics selected the “Ways of Love” as the best foreign language *512film in 1950.15 Meanwhile, on December 23, Edward T. McCaffrey, Commissioner of Licenses for New York City, declared the film “officially and personally blasphemous” and ordered it withdrawn at the risk of suspension of the license to operate the Paris Theatre.16 A week later the program was restored at the theatre upon the decision by the New York Supreme Court that the City *513License Commissioner had exceeded his authority in that he was without powers of movie censorship.17

Upon the failure of the License Commissioner’s effort to cut off showings of “The Miracle,” the controversy took a new turn. On Sunday, January 7, 1951, a statement of His Eminence, Francis Cardinal Spellman, condemning the picture and calling on “all right thinking citizens” to unite to tighten censorship laws, was read at all masses in St. Patrick’s Cathedral.18

The views of Cardinal Spellman aroused dissent among other devout Christians. Protestant clergymen, repre*514senting various denominations, after seeing the picture, found in it nothing “sacrilegious or immoral to the views held by Christian men and women,” and with a few exceptions agreed that the film was “unquestionably one of unusual artistic merit.” 19

In this estimate some Catholic laymen concurred.20 Their opinion is represented by the comment by Otto L. Spaeth, Director of the American Federation of Arts and prominent in Catholic lay activities:

“At the outbreak of the controversy, I immediately arranged for a private showing of the film. I invited a group of Catholics, competent and respected for their writings on both religious and cultural subjects. The essential approval of the film was unanimous.
“There was indeed 'blasphemy’ in the picture— but it was the blasphemy of the villagers, who stopped at nothing, not even the mock singing of a *515hymn to the Virgin, in their brutal badgering of the tragic woman. The scathing indictment of their evil behavior, implicit in the film, was seemingly overlooked by its critics.” 21

William P. Clancy, a teacher at the University of Notre Dame, wrote in The Commonweal, the well-known Catholic weekly, that “the film is not obviously blasphemous or obscene, either in its intention or execution.” 22 The Commonweal itself questioned the wisdom of transforming Church dogma which Catholics may obey as “a free act” into state-enforced censorship for all.23 Allen Tate, the well-known Catholic poet and critic, wrote: “The picture seems to me to be superior in acting and photography but inferior dramatically. ... In the long run what Cardinal Spellman will have succeeded in doing is insulting the intelligence and faith of American Catholics with the assumption that a second-rate motion picture could in any way undermine their morals or shake their faith.”24

At the time “The Miracle” was filmed, all the persons having significant positions in the production — producer, director, and cast — were Catholics. Roberto Rossellini, who had Vatican approval in 1949 for filming a life of St. Francis, using in the cast members of the Franciscan *516Order, cabled Cardinal Spellman protesting against boycott of “The Miracle”:

“In The Miracle men are still without pity because they still have not come back to God, but God is already present in the faith, however confused, of that poor, persecuted woman; and since God is wherever a human being suffers and is misunderstood, The Miracle occurs when at the birth of the child the poor, demented woman regains sanity in her maternal love.” 25

In view of the controversy thus aroused by the picture, the Chairman of the Board of Regents appointed a committee of three Board members to review the action of the Motion Picture Division in granting the two licenses. After viewing the picture on Jan. 15, 1951, the committee declared it “sacrilegious.” The Board four days later issued an order to the licensees to show cause why the licenses should not be cancelled in that the picture was “sacrilegious.” The Board of Regents rescinded the licenses on Feb. 16, 1951, saying that the “mockery or profaning of these beliefs that are sacred to any portion of our citizenship is abhorrent to the laws of this great State.” On review the Appellate Division upheld the Board of Regents, holding that the banning of any motion picture “that may fairly be deemed sacrilegious to the adherents of any religious group ... is directly related to public peace and order” and is not a denial of religious freedom, and that there was “substantial evidence upon which the Regents could act.” 278 App. Div. 253, 257, 258, 260, 104 N. Y. S. 2d 740, 743, 744-745, 747.

The New York Court of Appeals, with one judge concurring in a separate opinion and two others dissenting, *517affirmed the order of the Appellate Division. 303 N. Y. 242, 101 N. E. 2d 665. After concluding that the Board of Regents acted within its authority and that its determination was not “one that no reasonable mind could reach,” id., at 250-255, 256-257, 101 N. E. 2d 665, 667-671, the majority held, first, that “sacrilegious” was an adequately definite standard, quoting a definition from Funk & Wagnalls’ Dictionary and referring to opinions in this Court that in passing used the term “profane,” which the New York court said was a synonym of “sacrilegious” ; second, that the State’s assurance “that no religion . . . shall be treated with contempt, mockery, scorn and ridicule ... by those engaged in selling entertainment by way of motion pictures” does not violate the religious guarantee of the First Amendment; and third, that motion pictures are not entitled to the immunities from regulation enjoyed by the press, in view of the decision in Mutual Film Corp. v. Ohio Industrial Comm’n, 236 U. S. 230. Id., at 255-256, 258-260, 260-262, 101 N. E. 2d 670-674. The two dissenting judges, after dealing with a matter of local law not reviewable here, found that the standard “sacrilegious” is unconstitutionally vague, and, finally, that the constitutional guarantee of freedom of speech applied equally to motion pictures and prevented this censorship. 303 N. Y. 242, 264, 101 N. E. 2d 665, 675. Both State courts, as did this Court, viewed “The Miracle.”

'"’"Arguments by the parties and in briefs amici invite us to pursue to their farthest reach the problems in which this case is involved. Positions are advanced so absolute and abstract that in any event they could not properly determine this controversy. See Ashwander v. Tennessee Valley Authority, 297 U. S. 288, 341, 346-348. We are asked to decide this case by choosing between two mutually exclusive alternatives: that motion pictures may be subjected to unrestricted censorship, or that they *518must be allowed to be shown under any circumstances. But only the tyranny of absolutes would rely on such alternatives to meet the problems generated by the need to accommodate the diverse interests affected by the motion pictures in compact modern communities. It would startle Madison and Jefferson and George Mason, could they adjust themselves to our day, to be told that the freedom of speech which they espoused in the Bill of Rights authorizes a showing of “The Miracle” from windows facing St. Patrick’s Cathedral in the forenoon of Easter Sunday,26 just as it would startle them to be told that any picture, whatever its theme and its expression, could be barred from being commercially exhibited. The general principle of free speech, expressed in the First Amendment as to encroachments by Congress, and included as it is in the Fourteenth Amendment, binding on the States, must be placed in its historical and legal contexts. The Constitution, we cannot recall too often, is an organism, not merely a literary composition.

If the New York Court of Appeals had given “sacrilegious” the meaning it has had in Catholic thought since St. Thomas Aquinas formulated its scope, and had sustained a finding by the Board of Regents that “The Miracle” came within that scope, this Court would have to meet some of the broader questions regarding the relation to the motion picture industry of the guarantees of the First Amendment so far as reflected in the Fourteenth. But the New York court did not confine “sacrilegious” within such technical, Thomist limits, nor within any specific, or even approximately specified, limits. It may fairly be said that that court deemed “sacrilegious” a self-defining term, a word that carries a well-known, settled meaning in the common speech of men.

*519So far as the Court of Appeals sought to support its notion that “sacrilegious” has the necessary precision of meaning which the Due Process Clause enjoins for statutes regulating men’s activities, it relied on this definition from Funk & Wagnalls’ Dictionary: “The act of violating or profaning anything sacred.” But this merely defines by turning an adjective into a noun and bringing in two new words equally undefined. It leaves wide open the question as to what persons, doctrines or things are “sacred.” It sheds no light on what representations on the motion picture screen will constitute “profaning” those things which the State censors find to be “sacred.”

To criticize or assail religious doctrine may wound to the quick those who are attached to the doctrine and profoundly cherish it. But to bar such pictorial discussion is to subject non-conformists to the rule of sects. _

Even in Mutual Film Corp. v. Ohio Industrial Comm’n, 236 U. S. 230, it was deemed necessary to find that the terms “educational, moral, amusing or harmless” do not leave “decision to arbitrary judgment.” Such general words were found to “get precision from the sense and experience of men.” Id., at 245, 246. This cannot be said of “sacrilegious.” If there is one thing that the history of religious conflicts shows, it is that the term “sacrilegious” — if by that is implied offense to the deep convictions of members of different sects, which is what the Court of Appeals seems to mean so far as it means anything precisely — does not gain “precision from the sense and experience of men.”

The vast apparatus of indices and digests, which mirrors our law, affords no clue to a judicial definition of sacrilege. Not one case, barring the present, has been uncovered which considers the meaning of the term in any context. Nor has the practice under the New York law contributed light. The Motion Picture Division of the Education Department does not support with ex*520planatory statements its action on any specific motion picture, which we are advised is itself not made public. Of the fifty-odd reported appeals to the Board of Regents from denials of licenses by the Division, only three concern the category “sacrilegious.” 27 In these cases, as in others under the Act, the Board’s reported opinion confines itself to a bare finding that the film was or was not “sacrilegious,” without so much as a description of the allegedly offensive matter, or even of the film as a whole to enlighten the inquirer. Well-equipped law libraries are not niggardly in their reflection of “the sense and experience of men,” but we must search elsewhere for any which gives to “sacrilege” its meaning.

Sacrilege,28 as a restricted ecclesiastical concept, has a long history. Naturally enough, religions have sought to protect their priests and anointed symbols from physical injury.29 But history demonstrates that the term is hopelessly vague when it goes beyond such ecclesiastical definiteness and is used at large as the basis for punishing deviation from doctrine.

Etymologically “sacrilege” is limited to church-robbing: sacer, sacred, and legere, to steal or pick out. But we are *521told that “already in Cicero’s time it had grown to include in popular speech any insult or injury to [sacred things].” 30 “In primitive religions [sacrilege is] inclusive of almost every serious offence even in fields now regarded as merely social or political . . . .”31 The concept of “tabu” in primitive society is thus close to that of “sacrilege.” 32 And in “the Theodosian Code the various crimes which are accounted sacrilege include — apostasy, heresy, schism, Judaism, paganism, attempts against the immunity of churches and clergy or privileges of church courts, the desecration of sacraments, etc., and even Sunday. Along with these crimes against religion went treason to the emperor, offences against the laws, especially counterfeiting, defraudation in taxes, seizure of confiscated property, evil conduct of imperial officers, etc.” 33 During the Middle Ages the Church considerably delimited the application of the term. St. Thomas Aquinas classified the objects of “sacrilege” as persons, places, and thing.34 The injuries which would constitute *522“sacrilege” received specific and detailed illustration.35 This teaching of Aquinas is, I believe, still substantially the basis of the official Catholic doctrine of sacrilege. Thus, for the Roman Catholic Church, the term came to have a fairly definite meaning, but one, in general, limited to protecting things physical against injurious acts.36 Apostasy, heresy, and blasphemy coexisted as religious crimes alongside sacrilege; they were peculiarly in the realm of religious dogma and doctrine, as “sacrilege” was not. It is true that Spelman, writing “The History and Fate of Sacrilege” in 1632, included in “sacrilege” acts whereby “the very Deity is invaded, profaned, or robbed of its glory .... In this high sin are blasphemers, *523sorcerers, witches, and enchanters.”37 But his 'main theme was the “spoil of church lands done by Henry VIII” and the misfortunes that subsequently befell the families of the recipients of former ecclesiastical property as divine punishment.

To the extent that English law took jurisdiction to punish “sacrilege,” the term meant the stealing from a church, or otherwise doing damage to church property.38 This special protection against “sacrilege,” that is, property damage, was granted only to the Established Church.39 Since the repeal less than a century ago of the English law punishing “sacrilege” against the property of the Established Church, religious property has received little special protection. The property of all sects has had substantially the same protection as is accorded non-religious property.40 At no time up to the present has English law known “sacrilege” to be used in any wider sense than the physical injury to church property. \ It is true that, at times in the past, English law has *524taken jurisdiction to punish departures from accepted dogma or religious practice or the expression of particular religious opinions, but never have these “offenses” been denominated “sacrilege.” Apostasy, heresy, offenses against the Established Church, blasphemy, profanation of the Lord’s Day, etc., were distinct criminal offenses, characterized by Blackstone as “offences against God and religion.”41 These invidious reflections upon religious susceptibilities were not covered under sacrilege as they might be under the Court of Appeals’ opinion. Anyone doubting the dangerous uncertainty of the New York definition, which makes “sacrilege” overlap these other “offenses against religion,” need only read Blackstone’s account of the broad and varying content given each of these offenses.

A student of English lexicography would despair of finding the meaning attributed to “sacrilege” by the New York court.42 Most dictionaries define the concept in the limited sense of the physical abuse of physical objects. The definitions given for “sacrilege” by two dictionaries published in 1742 and 1782 are typical. Bailey’s defined it as “the stealing of Sacred Things, Church Robbing; an Alienation to Laymen, and to profane and common Purposes, of what was given to religious Persons, and to pious Uses.” 43 Barclay’s said it is “the crime of taking any thing dedicated to divine worship, or profaning any thing sacred,” where “to profane” is defined “to apply any thing sacred to common uses. To be irreverent to sacred persons or things.” 44 The *525same dictionaries defined “blasphemy,” a peculiarly verbal offense, in much broader terms than “sacrilege,” indeed in terms which the New York court finds encompassed by “sacrilegious.” For example, Barclay said “blasphemy” is “an offering some indignity to God, any person of the Trinity, any messengers from God, his holy writ, or the doctrines of revelation.”45 It is hardly necessary to comment that the limits of this definition remain too uncertain to justify constraining the creative efforts of the imagination by fear of pains and penalties imposed by a necessarily subjective censorship. It is true that some earlier dictionaries assigned to “sacrilege” the broader meaning of “abusing Sacraments or holy Mysteries,”46 but the broader meaning is more indefinite, not less. Noah Webster first published his American Dictionary in 1828. Both it and the later dictionaries published by the Merriam Company, Webster’s International Dictionary and Webster’s New International Dictionary, have gone through dozens of editions and printings, revisions and expansions. In all editions throughout 125 years, these American dictionaries have defined “sacrilege” and “sacrilegious” to echo substantially the narrow, technical definitions from the earlier British dictionaries collected in the Appendix, post, p. 533.47

*526The New York Court of Appeals’ statement that the dictionary “furnishes a clear definition,” justifying the vague scope it gave to “sacrilegious,” surely was made without regard to the lexicographic history of the term. As a matter of fact, the definition from Funk & Wagnalls’ used by the Court of Appeals is taken straight from 18th Century dictionaries, particularly Doctor Johnson’s.48 In light of that history it would seem that the Funk & *527Wagnalls’ definition uses “sacrilege” in its historically restricted meaning, which was not, and could hardly have been, the basis for condemning “The Miracle.”. If the New York court reads the Funk & Wagnalls’ definition in a broader sense, in a sense for which history and experience provide no gloss, it inevitably left the censor free to judge by whatever dogma he deems “sacred” and to ban whatever motion pictures he may assume would “profane” religious doctrine widely enough held to arouse protest.

Examination of successive editions of the Encyclopae-dia Britannica over nearly two centuries up to the present day gives no more help than the dictionaries. From 1768 to the eleventh edition in 1911, merely a brief dictionary-type definition was given for “sacrilege.”49 The eleventh edition, which first published a longer article, was introduced as follows: “the violation or profanation of sacred things, a crime of varying scope in different religions. It is naturally much more general and accounted more dreadful in those primitive religions in *528which cultural objects play so great a part, than in more highly spiritualized religions where they tend to disappear. But wherever the idea of sacred exists, sacrilege is possible.” 50 The article on “sacrilege” in the current edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica is substantially the same as that in the 1911 edition.

History teaches us the indefiniteness of the concept “sacrilegious” in another respect. In the case of most countries and times where the concept of sacrilege has been of importance, there has existed an established church or a state religion. That which was “sacred,” and so was protected against “profaning,” was designated in each case by ecclesiastical authority. What might have been definite when a controlling church imposed a detailed scheme of observances becomes impossibly confused and uncertain when hundreds of sects, with widely disparate and often directly conflicting ideas of sacredness, enjoy, without discrimination and in equal measure, constitutionally guaranteed religious freedom. In the Rome of the late emperors, the England of James I, or the Geneva of Calvin, and today in Roman Catholic Spain, Mohammedan Saudi Arabia, or any other country with a monolithic religion, the category of things sacred might have clearly definable limits. But in America the multiplicity of the ideas of “sacredness” held with equal but conflicting fervor by the great number of religious groups makes the term “sacrilegious” too indefinite to satisfy constitutional demands based on reason and fairness.

If “sacrilegious” bans more than the physical abuse of sacred persons, places, or things, if it permits censorship of religious opinions, which is the effect of the holding below, the term will include what may be found to be “blasphemous.” England’s experience with that treacherous word should give us pause, apart from our *529requirements for the separation of Church and State. The crime of blasphemy in Seventeenth Century England was the crime of dissenting from whatever was the current religious dogma.51 King James I’s “Book of Sports” was first required reading in the churches; later all copies were consigned to the flames. To attack the mass was once blasphemous; to perform it became so. At different times during that century, with the shifts in the attitude of government towards particular religious views, persons who doubted the doctrine of the Trinity (e. g., Unitarians, Universalists, etc.) or the divinity of Christ, observed the Sabbath on Saturday, denied the possibility of witchcraft, repudiated child baptism or urged methods of baptism other than sprinkling, were charged as blasphemers, or their books were burned or banned as blasphemous. Blasphemy was the chameleon phrase which meant the criticism of whatever the ruling authority of the moment established as orthodox religious doctrine.52 While it is true that blasphemy prosecutions *530have continued in England — although in lessening numbers — into the present century,53 the existence there of an established church gives more definite contours to the crime in England than the term “sacrilegious” can possibly have in this country. Moreover, the scope of the English common-law crime of blasphemy has been considerably limited by the declaration that “if the decencies of controversy are observed, even the fundamentals of religion may be attacked,” 54 a limitation which the New York court has not put upon the Board of Regents’ power to declare a motion picture “sacrilegious.”

In Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 310, Mr. Justice Roberts, speaking for the whole Court, said: “In the realm of religious faith, and in that of political -belief, sharp differences arise. In both fields the tenets of one man may seem the rankest error to his neighbor.” Conduct and beliefs dear to one may seem the rankest “sacrilege” to another. A few examples suffice to show the difficulties facing a conscientious censor or motion picture producer or distributor in determining what the New York statute condemns as sacrilegious. A motion picture portraying Christ as divine — for example, a movie showing medieval Church art — -would offend the religious opinions of the members of several Protestant denominations who do not believe in the Trinity, as well as those of a non-Christian faith. Conversely, one showing Christ as merely an ethical teacher could not but offend millions of Christians of many denominations. Which is “sacrilegious”? The doctrine of transubstantiation, and the veneration of relics or particular stone and wood embodiments of saints or divinity, both sacred to *531Catholics, are offensive to a great many Protestants, and therefore for them sacrilegious in the view of the New York court. Is a picture treating either subject, whether sympathetically, unsympathetically, or neutrally, “sacrilegious”? It is not a sufficient answer to say that “sacrilegious” is definite, because all subjects that in any way might be interpreted as offending the religious beliefs of any one of the 300 sects of the United States55 are banned in New York. To allow such vague, undefinable powers of censorship to be exercised is bound to have stultifying consequences on the creative process of literature and art — for the films are derived largely from literature. History does not encourage reliance on the wisdom and moderation of the censor as a safeguard in the exercise of such drastic power over the minds of men. We not only do not know but cannot know what is condemnable by “sacrilegious.” And if we cannot tell, how are those to be governed by the statute to tell?

It is this impossibility of knowing how far the form of words by which the New York Court of Appeals explained “sacrilegious” carries the proscription of religious subjects that makes the term unconstitutionally vague.56 To stop short of proscribing all subjects that might conceivably be interpreted to be religious, inevitably creates a situation whereby the censor bans only that against which *532there is a substantial outcry from a religious group. And that is the fair inference to be drawn, as a matter of experience, from what has been happening under the New York censorship. Consequently the film industry, normally not guided by creative artists, and cautious in putting large capital to the hazards of courage, would be governed by its notions of the feelings likely to be aroused by diverse religious sects, certainly the powerful ones. The effect of such demands upon art and upon those whose function is to enhance the culture of a society need not be labored.

To paraphrase Doctor Johnson, if nothing may be shown but what licensors may have previously approved, power, the yea-or-nay-saying by officials, becomes the standard of the permissible. Prohibition through words that fail to convey what is permitted and what is prohibited for want of appropriate objective standards, offends Due Process in two ways. First, it does not sufficiently apprise those bent on obedience of law of what may reasonably be foreseen to be found illicit by the law-enforcing authority, whether court or jury or administrative agency. Secondly, where licensing is rested, in the first instance, in an administrative agency, the available judicial review is in effect rendered inoperative. On the basis of such a portmanteau word as “sacrilegious,” the judiciary has no standards with which to judge the validity of administrative action which necessarily involves, at least in large measure, subjective determinations. Thus, the administrative first step becomes the last step.

*533From all that has been said one is compelled to conclude that the term “sacrilegious” has come down the stream of time encrusted with a specialized, strictly confined meaning, pertaining to things in space not things in the mind. The New York Court of Appeals did not give the term this calculable content. It applied it to things in the mind, and things in the mind so undefined, so at large, as to be more patently in disregard of the requirement for definiteness, as the basis of proscriptions and legal sanctions for their disobedience, than the measures that were condemned as violative of Due Process in United States v. Cohen Grocery Co., 255 U. S. 81; A. B. Small Co. v. American Sugar Refining Co., 267 U. S. 233; Connally v. General Construction Co., 269 U. S. 385; Winters v. New York, 333 U. S. 507; Kunz v. New York, 340 U. S. 290. This principle is especially to be observed when what is so vague seeks to fetter the mind and put within unascertainable bounds the varieties of religious experience.

APPENDIX TO OPINION OF MR. JUSTICE FRANKFURTER*

Cockeram, English Dictionarie (10th ed., London, 1651).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: “The robbing of a Church, the stealing of holy things, abusing of Sacraments or holy Mysteries.”

Sacrilegious: “Abominable, very wicked.”

Blount, Glossographia (3d ed., London, 1670).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: “the robbing a Church, or other holy consecrated place, the stealing holy things, or abusing Sacraments or holy Mysteries.”

Sacrilegious: “that robs the Church; wicked, extremely bad.”

*534Blount, A Law-Dictionary (London, 1670).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: No entry.

Phillips, The New World of Words (3d ed., London, 1671).

Blasphemy: “an uttering of reproachfull words, tending either to the dishonour of God, or to the hurt and disgrace of any mans name and credit.”

Sacrilegious: “committing Sacriledge, i. e. a robbing of Churches, or violating of holy things.”

Cowel, The Interpreter of Words and Terms (Manley ed., London, 1701).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: “an Alienation to Lay-Men, and to profane or common purposes, of what was given to Religious Persons, and to Pious Uses, etc.”

Rastell, Law Terms (London, 1708).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: “is, when one steals any Vessels, Ornaments, or Goods of Holy Church, which is felony, 3 Cro. 153, 154.”

Kersey, A General English Dictionary (3d ed., London, 1721).

Blasphemy: “an uttering of reproachful Words, that tend to the Dishonour of God, &c.”

Sacrilege: “the stealing of Sacred Things, Church robbing.”

Cocker, English Dictionary (London, 1724).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: “robbing the Church, or what is dedicated thereto.”

Bailey, Universal Etymological English Dictionary (London, 1730).

Blasphemy: “an uttering of reproachful words tending to the dishonour of God, &c. vile, base language.”

*535Sacrilege: “the stealing of sacred Things, Church-Robbing; the Crime of profaning sacred Things, or alienating to Laymen, or common Uses, what was given to pious Uses and religious Persons.”

Coles, An English Dictionary (London, 1732).

Blasphemy: “reproach.”

Sacrilege: “the robbing of God, the church, &c.”

Bullokar, The English Expositor (14th ed., London, 1731).

Blasphemy: No entry.

Sacrilege: “The Robbing of a Church; the Stealing of holy things, or Abusing of Sacraments or holy Mysteries.”

Defoe, A Compleat English Dictionary (Westminster, 1735).

Blasphemy: “vile or opprobrious Language, tending to the Dishonour of God.”

Sacrilege: “the stealing of sacred Things, Church robbing.”

Bailey, An Universal Etymological English Dictionary (London, 1742).

Blasphemy: “Cursing and Swearing, vile reproachful Language, tending to the Dishonour of God.”

Sacrilege: “the stealing of Sacred Things, Church Robbing; an Alienation to Laymen, and to profane and common Purposes, of what was given to religious Persons, and to pious Uses.”

Martin, A New Universal English Dictionary (London, 1754).

Blasphemy: “cursing, vile language tending to the dishonour of God or religion.”

Sacrilege: “the stealing things out of a holy place, or the profaning things devoted to God.”

*536Johnson, A Dictionary of the English Language (2d ed., London, 1755).

Blasphemy: “strictly and properly, is an offering of some indignity, or injury, unto God himself, either by words or writing.”

Sacrilege: “The crime of appropriating to himself what is devoted to religion; the crime of robbing heaven; the crime of violating or profaning things sacred,”

Rider, A New Universal English Dictionary (London, 1759).

Blasphemy: “an offering some indignity to God, any person of the Trinity, any messengers from God; his holy writ, or the doctrines of revelation, either by speaking or writing any thing ill of them, or ascribing any thing ill to them inconsistent with their natures and the reverence we owe them.”

Sacrilege: “the crime of taking any thing dedicated to divine worship. The crime of profaning any thing sacred.”

Profane: “to apply any thing sacred to common use. To be irreverent to sacred persons or things. To put to a wrong use.”

Gordon and Marchant, A New Complete English Dictionary (London, 1760).

Blasphemy: “is an offering some indignity to God himself.”

Sacrilege: “is the crime of appropriating to himself what is devoted to religion; the crime of robbing Heaven.”

Buchanan, A New English Dictionary (London, 1769).

Blasphemy: “Language tending to the dishonour of God.”

Sacrilege: “The stealing things out of a holy place.”

*537Cunningham, A New and Complete Law-Dictionary (London, 1771).

Blasphemy: A long definition reading in part: “Is an injury offered to God, by denying that which is due and belonging to him, or attributing to him what is not agreeable to his nature.”

Sacrilege: “Is church robbery, or a taking of things out of a holy place; as where a person steals any vessels, ornaments, tpr goods of the church. And it is said to be a robbery of God, at least of what is dedicated to his service. 2 Cro. 153, 154.

“. . . an alienation to lay-men, and to profane or common purposes, of what was given to religious persons, and to pious uses.”

Kenrick, A New Dictionary of the English Language (London, 1773).

Blasphemy: “Treating the name and attributes of the Supreme Being with insult and indignity.”

Sacrilege: “The crime of appropriating to himself what is devoted to religion; the crime of robbing heaven, says Johnson; the crime of violating or profaning things sacred.”

Profane: “To violate; to pollute. — To put to wrong use.”

Ash, The New and Complete Dictionary of the English Language (London, 1775).

Blasphemy: “The act of speaking or writing reproachfully of the Divine Being, the act of attributing to the creature that which belongs to the Creator.”

Sacrilege: “The act of appropriating to one’s self what is devoted to religion, the crime of violating sacred things.”

*538Dyche, A New General English Dictionary (London, 1777).

Blasphemy: “the reproaching or dishonouring God, religion, and holy things.”

Sacrilege: “the stealing or taking away those things that were appropriated to religious uses or designs.”

Sacrilegious: “of a profane, thievish nature, sort, or disposition.”

Barclay, A Complete and Universal English Dictionary (London, 1782).

Blasphemy: “an offering some indignity to God, any person of the Trinity, any messengers from God, his holy writ, or the doctrines of revelation.”

Sacrilege: “the crime of taking any thing dedicated to divine worship, or profaning any thing sacred.”

Profane: “to apply any thing sacred to common use. To be irreverent to sacred persons or things.”

Lemon, English Etymology (London, 1783).

Blaspheme: “to speak evil of any one; to injure his jame, or reputation.”

Sacrilege: No entry.

Entick, New Spelling Dictionary (London, 1786).

Blasphemy: “indignity offered to God.”

Blasphemer: “one who abuses God.”

Sacrilege: “the robbery of a church or chapel.”

Sacrilegious: “violating a thing made sacred.”

Burn, A New Law Dictionary (Dublin, 1792).

Blasphemy: “See Prophaneness.”

Profaneness: A long definition, not reproduced here.

Sacrilege: “robbing of the church, or stealing things out of a sacred place.”

Sheridan, A Complete Dictionary of the English Language (6th ed., Phila., 1796).

Blasphemy: “Offering of some indignity to God.”

Sacrilege: “The crime of robbing a church.”

*539Scott, Dictionary of the English Language (Edinburgh, 1797).

Blasphemy: “indignity offered to God.”

Sacrilege: “the robbery of a church, &c.”

Richardson, A New Dictionary of the English Language (London, 1839).

Blasphemy: “To attack, assail, insult, (the name, the attributes, the ordinances, the revelations, the will or government of God.)”

Sacrilege: “to take away, to steal any thing sacred, or consecrated, or dedicated to holy or religious uses.”

Bell, A Dictionary and Digest of the Law of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1861).

Blasphemy: “is the denying or vilifying of the Deity, by speech or writing.”

Sacrilege: “is any violation of things dedicated to the offices of religion.”

Staunton, An Ecclesiastical Dictionary (N. Y., 1861).

Blasphemy: A long entry.

Sacrilege: “The act of violating or subjecting sacred things to profanation; or the desecration of objects consecrated to God. Thus, the robbing of churches or of graves, the abuse of sacred vessels and altars by employing them for unhallowed purposes, the plundering and misappropriation of alms and donations, are acts of sacrilege, which in the ancient Church were punished with great severity.”

Bouvier, A Law Dictionary (11th ed., Phila., 1866).

Blasphemy: “To attribute to God that which is contrary to his nature, and does not belong to him, and to deny what does; or it is a false reflection uttered with a malicious design of reviling God.”

*540Sacrilege: "The act of stealing from the temples or churches dedicated to the worship of God, articles consecrated to divine uses.”

Shipley, A Glossary of Ecclesiastical Terms (London, 1872).

Blasphemy: "Denying the existence or providence of God; contumelous reproaches of Jesus Christ; profane scoffing at the holy Scriptures, or exposing any part thereof to contempt or ridicule.”

Sacrilege: “The profanation or robbery of persons or things which have been solemnly dedicated to the service of God. v. 24 & 25 Viet. c. 96, s. 50.”

Brown, A Law Dictionary (Sprague ed., Albany, 1875).

Blasphemy: “To revile at or to deny the truth of Christianity as by law established, is a blasphemy, and as such is punishable by the common law. . . .”

Sacrilege: “A desecration of any thing that is holy. The alienation of lands which were given to religious purposes to laymen, or to profane and common purposes, was also termed sacrilege.”

15.10 Roth v. United States 15.10 Roth v. United States

ROTH v. UNITED STATES.

No. 582.

Argued April 22, 1957.

Decided June 24, 1957 *

*478David von G. Albrecht and 0. John Rogge argued the cause for petitioner in No. 582. With them on the brief were David P. Siegel, Peter Belsito and Murray A. Gordon.

Stanley Fleishman argued the cause for appellant in No. 61. With him on the brief were Sam Rosenwein and William B. Murrish.

Roger D. Fisher argued the cause for the United States in No. 582. With him on the brief were Solicitor General Rankin and Assistant Attorney General Olney.

Fred N. Whichello and Clarence A. Linn, Assistant Attorney General of California, argued the cause for appellee in No. 61. With them on the brief were Edmund G. Brown, Attorney General, William B. McKesson and Lewis Watnick.

Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed in No. 582 by Morris L. Ernst, Harriett F. Pilpel and Nancy F. Wechsler, for Ernst, Irwin Karp and Osmond K. Fraenkel, for the Authors League of America, Inc., Abe Fortas, William L. McGovern, Abe Krash and Maurice Rosenfield, for the Greenleaf Publishing Co. et al., Horace S. Manges, for the American Book Publishers Council, Inc., and Emanuel Redfield, for the American Civil Liberties Union.

A. L. Wirin filed a brief for the American Civil Liberties Union, Southern California Branch, as amicus curiae, in support of appellant in No. 61.

*479Mr. Justice Brennan

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The constitutionality of a criminal obscenity statute is the question in each of these cases. In Roth, the primary constitutional question is whether the federal obscenity statute 1 violates the provision of the First Amendment that “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press . . . .” In Alberts, the primary constitutional question is whether the obscenity provisions of the California Penal Code 2 invade the freedoms of speech and press as they may be incorporated in *480the liberty protected from state action by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

Other constitutional questions are: whether these statutes violate due process,3 because too vague to support conviction for crime; whether power to punish speech and press offensive to decency and morality is in the States alone, so that the federal obscenity statute violates the Ninth and Tenth Amendments (raised in Roth); and whether Congress, by enacting the federal obscenity statute, under the power delegated by Art. I, § 8, cl. 7, to establish post offices and post roads, pre-empted the regulation of the subject matter (raised in Alberts).

Roth conducted a business in New York in the publication and sale of books, photographs and magazines. He used circulars and advertising matter to solicit sales. He was convicted by a jury in the District Court for the Southern District of New York upon 4 counts of a 26-count indictment charging him with mailing obscene circulars and advertising, and an obscene book, in violation of the federal obscenity statute. His conviction was affirmed by the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit.4 We granted certiorari.5

*481Alberts conducted a mail-order business from Los Angeles. He was convicted by the Judge of the Municipal Court of the Beverly Hills Judicial District (having waived a jury trial) under a misdemeanor complaint which charged him with lewdly keeping for sale obscene and indecent books, and with writing, composing and publishing an obscene advertisement of them, in violation of the California Penal Code. The conviction was affirmed by the Appellate Department of the Superior Court of the State of California in and for the County of Los Angeles.6 We noted probable jurisdiction.7

The dispositive question is whether obscenity is utterance within the area of protected speech and press.8 Although this is the first time the question has been squarely presented to this Court, either under the First Amendment or under the Fourteenth Amendment, expressions found in numerous opinions indicate that this Court has always assumed that obscenity is not protected by the freedoms of speech and press. Ex parte Jackson, 96 U. S. 727, 736-737; United States v. Chase, 135 U. S. 255, 261; Robertson v. Baldwin, 165 U. S. 275, 281; Public Clearing House v. Coyne, 194 U. S. 497, 508; Hoke v. United States, 227 U. S. 308, 322; Near v. Minnesota, 283 U. S. 697, 716; Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 571-572; Hannegan v. Esquire, Inc., 327 U. S. 146, 158; Winters v. New York, 333 U. S. 507, 510; Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, 266.9

*482The guaranties of freedom of expression10 in effect in 10 of the 14 States which by 1792 had ratified the Constitution, gave no absolute protection for every utterance. Thirteen of the 14 States provided for the prosecution of libel,11 and all of those States made either blasphemy or profanity, or both, statutory crimes.12 As early as *4831712, Massachusetts made it criminal to publish “any filthy, obscene, or profane song, pamphlet, libel or mock sermon” in imitation or mimicking of religious services. Acts and Laws of the Province of Mass. Bay, c. CV, § 8 (1712), Mass. Bay Colony Charters & Laws 399 (1814). Thus, profanity and obscenity were related offenses.

In light of this history, it is apparent that the unconditional phrasing of the First Amendment was not intended to protect every utterance. This phrasing did not prevent this Court from concluding that libelous utterances are not within the area of constitutionally protected speech. Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, 266. At the time of the adoption of the First Amendment, obscenity law was not as fully developed as libel law, but there is sufficiently contemporaneous evidence to show that obscenity, too, was outside the protection intended for speech and press.13

*484The protection given speech and press was fashioned to assure unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of political and social changes desired by the people. This objective was made explicit as early as 1774 in a letter of the Continental Congress to the inhabitants of Quebec:

“The last right we shall mention, regards the freedom of the press. The importance of this consists, besides the advancement of truth, science, morality, and arts in general, in its diffusion of liberal sentiments on the administration of Government, its ready communication of thoughts between subjects, and its consequential promotion of union among them, whereby oppressive officers are shamed or intimidated, into more honourable and just modes of conducting affairs.” 1 Journals of the Continental Congress 108 (1774).

All ideas having even the slightest redeeming social importance — unorthodox ideas, controversial ideas, even ideas hateful to the prevailing climate of opinion — have the full protection of the guaranties, unless excludable because they encroach upon the limited area of more important interests.14 But implicit in the history of the First Amendment is the rejection of obscenity as utterly without redeeming social importance. This rejection for *485that reason is mirrored in the universal judgment that obscenity should be restrained, reflected in the international agreement of over 50 nations,15 in the obscenity laws of all of the 48 States,16 and in the 20 obscenity laws enacted by the Congress from 1842 to 1956.17 This is the same judgment expressed by this Court in Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 571-572:

“. . . 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. These include the lewd and obscene .... It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality. . . .” (Emphasis added.)

We hold that obscenity is not within the area of constitutionally protected speech or press.

It is strenuously urged that these obscenity statutes offend the constitutional guaranties because they punish *486incitation to impure sexual thoughts, not shown to be related to any overt antisocial conduct which is or may be incited in the persons stimulated to such thoughts. In Roth, the trial judge instructed the jury: “The words 'obscene, lewd and lascivious’ as used in the law, signify that form of immorality which has relation to sexual impurity and has a tendency to excite lustful thoughts.” (Emphasis added.) In Alberts, the trial judge applied the test laid down in People v. Wepplo, 78 Cal. App. 2d Supp. 959, 178 P. 2d 853, namely, whether the material has “a substantial tendency to deprave or corrupt its readers by inciting lascivious thoughts or arousing lustful desires.” (Emphasis added.) It is insisted that the constitutional guaranties are violated because convictions may be had without proof either that obscene material will perceptibly create a clear and present danger of antisocial conduct,18 or will probably induce its recipients to such conduct.19 But, in light of our holding that obscenity is not protected speech, the complete answer to this argument is in the holding of this Court in Beauharnais v. Illinois, supra, at 266:

“Libelous utterances not being within the area of constitutionally protected speech, it is unnecessary, either for us or for the State courts, to consider the issues behind the phrase ‘clear and present danger.’ Certainly no one would contend that obscene speech, *487for example, may be punished only upon a showing of such circumstances. Libel, as we have seen, is in the same class.”

However, sex and obscenity are not synonymous. Obscene material is material which deals with sex in a manner appealing to prurient interest.20 The portrayal of sex, e. g., in art, literature and scientific works,21 is not itself sufficient reason to deny material the constitutional protection of freedom of speech and press. Sex, a great and mysterious motive force in human life, has indisputably been a subject of absorbing interest to mankind through the ages; it is one of the vital problems of human interest and public concern. As to all such problems, *488this Court said in Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 101-102:

“The freedom of speech and of the press guaranteed by the Constitution embraces at the least the liberty to discuss publicly and truthfully all matters of public concern without previous restraint or fear of subsequent punishment. The exigencies of the colonial period and the efforts to secure freedom from oppressive administration developed a broadened conception of these liberties as adequate to supply the public need for information and education with respect to the significant issues of the times. . . . Freedom of discussion, if it would fulfill its historic function in this nation, must embrace all issues about which information is needed or appropriate to enable the members of society to cope with the exigencies of their period.” (Emphasis added.)

The fundamental freedoms of speech and press have contributed greatly to the development and well-being of our free society and are indispensable to its continued growth.22 Ceaseless vigilance is the watchword to prevent their erosion by Congress or by the States. The door barring federal and state intrusion into this area cannot be left ajar; it must be kept tightly closed and opened only the slightest crack necessary to prevent encroachment upon more important interests.23 It is therefore vital that the standards for judging obscenity safeguard the protection of freedom of speech and press for material which does not treat sex in a manner appealing to prurient interest.

The early leading standard of obscenity allowed material to be judged merely by the effect of an isolated *489excerpt upon particularly susceptible persons. Regina v. Hicklin, [1868] L. R. 3 Q. B. 360.24 Some American courts adopted this standard25 but later decisions have rejected it and substituted this test: whether to the average person, applying contemporary community standards, the dominant theme of the material taken as a whole appeals to prurient interest.26 The Hicklin test, judging obscenity by the effect of isolated passages upon the most susceptible persons, might well encompass material legitimately treating with sex, and so it must be rejected as unconstitutionally restrictive of the freedoms of speech and press. On the other hand, the substituted standard provides safeguards adequate to withstand the charge of constitutional infirmity.

Both trial courts below sufficiently followed the proper standard. Both courts used the proper definition of obscenity. In addition, in the Alberts case, in ruling on a motion to dismiss, the trial judge indicated that, as the *490trier of facts, he was judging each item as a whole as it would affect the normal person,27 and in Roth, the trial judge instructed the jury as follows:

“. . . The test is not whether it would arouse sexual desires or sexual impure thoughts in those comprising a particular segment of the community, the young, the immature or the highly prudish or would leave another segment, the scientific or highly educated or the so-called worldly-wise and sophisticated indifferent and unmoved. . . .
“The test in each case is the effect of the book, picture or publication considered as a whole, not upon any particular class, but upon all those whom it is likely to reach. In other words, you determine its impact upon the average person in the community. The books, pictures and circulars must be judged as a whole, in their entire context, and you are not to consider detached or separate portions in reaching a conclusion. You judge the circulars, pictures and publications which have been put in evidence by present-day standards of the community. You may ask yourselves does it offend the common conscience of the community by present-day standards.
“In this case, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you and you alone are the exclusive judges of what the common conscience of the community is, and in determining that conscience you are to consider the community as a whole, young and old, educated and uneducated, the religious and the irreligious — men, women and children.”

*491It is argued that the statutes do not provide reasonably ascertainable standards of guilt and therefore violate the constitutional requirements of due process. Winters v. New York, 333 U. S. 507. The federal obscenity statute makes punishable the mailing of material that is “obscene, lewd, lascivious, or filthy ... or other publication of an indecent character.”28 The California statute makes punishable, inter alia, the keeping for sale or advertising material that is “obscene or indecent.” The thrust of the argument is that these words are not sufficiently precise because they do not mean the same thing to all people, all the time, everywhere.

Many decisions have recognized that these terms of obscenity statutes are not precise.29 This Court, however, has consistently held that lack of precision is not itself offensive to the requirements of due process. “. . . [T]he Constitution does not require impossible standards”; all that is required is that the language “conveys sufficiently definite warning as to the proscribed conduct when measured by common understanding and practices....” United States v. Petrillo, 332 U. S. 1, 7-8. These words, applied according to the proper standard for judging obscenity, already discussed, give adequate warning of the conduct proscribed and mark “. . . boundaries sufficiently distinct for judges and juries fairly to administer the law .... That there may be marginal cases in which it is difficult to determine the side of the line on *492which a particular fact situation falls is no sufficient reason to hold the language too ambiguous to define a criminal offense. . . ." Id., at 7. See also United States v. Harriss, 347 U. S. 612, 624, n. 15; Boyce Motor Lines, Inc. v. United States, 342 U. S. 337, 340; United States v. Ragen, 314 U. S. 513, 523-524; United States v. Wurzbach, 280 U. S. 396; Hygrade Provision Co. v. Sherman, 266 U. S. 497; Fox v. Washington, 236 U. S. 273; Nash v. United States, 229 U. S. 373.30

In summary, then, we hold that these statutes, applied according to the proper standard for judging obscenity, do not offend constitutional safeguards against convictions based upon protected material, or fail to give men in acting adequate notice of what is prohibited.

Roth’s argument that the federal obscenity statute unconstitutionally encroaches upon the powers reserved by the Ninth and Tenth Amendments to the States and to the people to punish speech and press where offensive to decency and morality is hinged upon his contention that obscenity is expression not excepted from the sweep of the provision of the First Amendment that “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press . . . .” (Emphasis added.) That argument falls in light of our holding that obscenity is not expression protected by the First Amendment.31 We *493therefore hold that the federal obscenity statute punishing the use of the mails for obscene material is a proper exercise of the postal power delegated to Congress by Art. I, § 8, cl. 7.32 In United Public Workers v. Mitchell, 330 U. S. 75, 95-96, this Court said:

“. . . The powers granted by the Constitution to the Federal Government are subtracted from the totality of sovereignty originally in the states and the people. Therefore, when objection is made that the exercise of a federal power infringes upon rights reserved by the Ninth and Tenth Amendments, the inquiry must be directed toward the granted power under which the action of the Union was taken. If granted power is found, necessarily the objection of invasion of those rights, reserved by the Ninth and Tenth Amendments, must fail. . .

Alberts argues that because his was a mail-order business, the California statute is repugnant to Art. I, § 8, cl. 7, under which the Congress allegedly pre-empted the regulatory field by enacting the federal obscenity statute punishing the mailing or advertising by mail of obscene material. The federal statute deals only with actual *494mailing; it does not eliminate the power of the state to punish "keeping for sale” or “advertising” obscene material. The state statute in no way imposes a burden or interferes with the federal postal functions. “. . . The decided cases which indicate the limits of state regulatory power in relation to the federal mail service involve situations where state regulation involved a direct, physical interference with federal activities under the postal power or some direct, immediate burden on the performance of the postal functions. . . .” Railway Mail Assn. v. Corsi, 326 U. S. 88, 96.

The judgments are

Affirmed.

Mr. Chief Justice Warren,

concurring in the result.

I agree with the result reached by the Court in these cases, but, because we are operating in a field of expression and because broad language used here may eventually be applied to the arts and sciences and freedom of communication generally, I would limit our decision to the facts before us and to the validity of the statutes in question as applied.

Appellant Alberts was charged with wilfully, unlawfully and lewdly disseminating obscene matter. Obscenity has been construed by the California courts to mean having a substantial tendency to corrupt by arousing lustful desires. People v. Wepplo, 78 Cal. App. 2d Supp. 959, 178 P. 2d 853. Petitioner Roth was indicted for unlawfully, wilfully and knowingly mailing obscene material that was calculated to corrupt and debauch the minds and morals of those to whom it was sent. Each was accorded all the protections of a criminal trial. Among other things, they contend that the statutes under which they were convicted violate the constitutional guarantees of freedom of speech, press and communication.

*495That there is a social problem presented by obscenity is attested by the expression of the legislatures of the forty-eight States as well as the Congress. To recognize the existence of a problem, however, does not require that we sustain any and all measures adopted to meet that problem. The history of the application of laws designed to suppress the obscene demonstrates convincingly that the power of government can be invoked under them against great art or literature, scientific treatises, or works exciting social controversy. Mistakes of the past prove that there is a strong countervailing interest to be considered in the freedoms guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments.

The line dividing the salacious or pornographic from literature or science is not straight and unwavering. Present laws depend largely upon the effect that the materials may have upon those who receive them. It is manifest that the same object may have a different impact, varying according to the part of the community it reached. But there is more to these cases. It is not the book that is on trial; it is a person. The conduct of the defendant is the central issue, not the obscenity of a book or picture. The nature of the materials is, of course, relevant as an attribute of the defendant’s conduct, but the materials are thus placed in context from which they draw color and character. A wholly different result might be reached in a different setting.

The personal element in these cases is seen most strongly in the requirement of scienter. Under the California law, the prohibited activity must be done “wilfully and lewdly.” The federal statute limits the crime to acts done “knowingly.” In his charge to the jury, the district judge stated that the matter must be “calculated” to corrupt or debauch. The defendants in both these cases were engaged in the business of purveying textual or *496graphic matter openly advertised to appeal to the erotic interest of their customers. They were plainly engaged in the commercial exploitation of the morbid and shameful craving for materials with prurient effect. I believe that the State and Federal Governments can constitutionally punish such conduct. That is all that these cases present to us, and that is all we need to decide.

I agree with the Court’s decision in its rejection of the other contentions raised by these defendants.

MR. Justice Harlan,

concurring in the result in No. 61, and dissenting in No. 582.

I regret not to be able to join the Court’s opinion. I cannot do so because I find lurking beneath its disarming generalizations a number of problems which not only leave me with serious misgivings as to the future effect of today’s decisions, but which also, in my view, call for different results in these two cases.

I.

My basic difficulties with the Court’s opinion are threefold. First, the opinion paints with such a broad brush that I fear it may result in a loosening of the tight reins which state and federal courts should hold upon the enforcement of obscenity statutes. Second, the Court fails to discriminate between the different factors which, in my opinion, are involved in the constitutional adjudication of state and federal obscenity cases. Third, relevant distinctions between the two obscenity statutes here involved, and the Court’s own definition of “obscenity,” are ignored.

In final analysis, the problem presented by these cases is how far, and on what terms, the state and federal governments have power to punish individuals for disseminating books considered to be undesirable because of their *497nature or supposed deleterious effect upon human conduct. Proceeding from the premise that “no issue is presented in either case, concerning the obscenity of the material involved,” the Court finds the “dispositive question” to be “whether obscenity is utterance within the area of protected speech and press,” and then holds that “obscenity” is not so protected because it is “utterly without redeeming social importance.” This sweeping formula appears to me to beg the very question before us. The Court seems to assume that “obscenity” is a peculiar genus of “speech and press,” which is as distinct, recognizable, and classifiable as poison ivy is among other plants. On this basis the constitutional question before us simply becomes, as the Court says, whether “obscenity,” as an abstraction, is protected by the First and Fourteenth Amendments, and the question whether a particular book may be suppressed becomes a mere matter of classification, of “fact,” to be entrusted to a fact-finder and insulated from independent constitutional judgment. But surely the problem cannot be solved in such a generalized fashion. Every communication has an individuality and “value” of its own. The suppression of a particular writing or other tangible form of expression is, therefore, an individual matter, and in the nature of things every such suppression raises an individual constitutional problem, in which a reviewing court must determine for itself whether the attacked expression is suppressable within constitutional standards. Since those standards do not readily lend themselves to generalized definitions, the constitutional problem in the last analysis becomes one of particularized judgments which appellate courts must make for themselves.

I do not think that reviewing courts can escape this responsibility by saying that the trier of the facts, be it a jury or a judge, has labeled the questioned matter as “obscene,” for, if “obscenity” is to be suppressed, the *498question whether a particular work is of that character involves not really an issue of fact but a question of constitutional judgment of the most sensitive and delicate kind. Many juries might find that Joyce's “Ulysses” or Bocaccio’s “Decameron” was obscene, and yet the conviction of a defendant for selling either book would raise, for me, the gravest constitutional problems, for no such verdict could convince me, without more, that these books are “utterly without redeeming social importance.” In short, I do not understand how the Court can resolve the constitutional problems now before it without making its own independent judgment upon the character of the material upon which these convictions were based. I am very much afraid that the broad manner in which the Court has decided these cases will tend to obscure the peculiar responsibilities resting on state and federal courts in this field and encourage them to rely on easy labeling and jury verdicts as a substitute for facing up to the tough individual problems of constitutional judgment involved in every obscenity case.

My second reason for dissatisfaction with the Court’s opinion is that the broad strides with which the Court has proceeded has led it to brush aside with perfunctory ease the vital constitutional considerations which, in my opinion, differentiate these two cases. It does not seem to matter to the Court that in one case we balance the power /of a State in this field against the restrictions of the Four- | teenth Amendment, and in the other the power of the j Federal Government against the limitations of the First \ Amendment. I deal with this subject more particularly later.

Thirdly, the Court has not been bothered by the fact that the two cases involve different statutes. In California the book must have a “tendency to deprave or corrupt its readers”; under the federal statute it must tend “to stir sexual impulses and lead to sexually impure *499thoughts.” 1 The two statutes do not seem to me to present the same problems. Yet the Court compounds confusion when it superimposes on these two statutory definitions a third, drawn from the American Law Institute’s Model Penal Code, Tentative Draft No. 6: “A thing is obscene if, considered as a whole, its predominant appeal is to prurient interest.” The bland assurance that this definition is the same as the ones with which we deal flies in the face of the authors’ express rejection of the “deprave and corrupt” and “sexual thoughts” tests:

“Obscenity [in the Tentative Draft] is defined in terms of material which appeals predominantly to prurient interest in sexual matters and which goes beyond customary freedom of expression in these matters. We reject the prevailing test of tendency to arouse lustful thoughts or desires because it is *500unrealistically broad for a society that plainly tolerates a great deal of erotic interest in literature, advertising, and art, and because regulation of thought or desire, unconnected with overt misbehavior, raises the most acute constitutional as well as practical difficulties. We likewise reject the common definition of obscene as that which ‘tends to corrupt or debase.’ If this means anything different from tendency to arouse lustful thought and desire, it suggests that change of character or actual misbehavior follows from contact with obscenity. Evidence of such consequences is lacking .... On the other hand, ‘appeal to prurient interest’ refers to qualities of the material itself: the capacity to attract individuals eager for a forbidden look . ...” 2

As this passage makes clear, there is a significant distinction between the definitions used in the prosecutions before us, and the American Law Institute formula. If, therefore, the latter is the correct standard, as my Brother Brennan elsewhere intimates,3 then these convictions should surely be reversed. Instead, the Court merely assimilates the various tests into one indiscriminate potpourri.

I now pass to the consideration of the two cases before us.

II.

1 concur in the judgment of the Court in No. 61, Alberts v. California.

The question in this case is whether the defendant was deprived of liberty without due process of law when he was convicted for selling certain materials found by the judge to be obscene because they would have a “tendency *501to deprave or corrupt its readers by exciting lascivious thoughts or arousing lustful desire.”

In judging the constitutionality of this conviction, we should remember that our function in reviewing state judgments under the Fourteenth Amendment is a narrow one. We do not decide whether the policy of the State is wise, or whether it is based on assumptions scientifically substantiated. We can inquire only whether the state action so subverts the fundamental liberties implicit in the Due Process Clause that it cannot be sustained as a rational exercise of power. See Jackson, J., dissenting in Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, 287. The States’ power to make printed words criminal is, of course, confined by the Fourteenth Amendment, but only insofar as such power is inconsistent with our concepts of “ordered liberty.” Palko v. Connecticut, 302 U. S. 319, 324-325.

What, then, is the purpose of this California statute? Clearly the state legislature has made the judgment that I printed words can “deprave or corrupt” the reader — that' words can incite to antisocial or immoral action. The assumption seems to be that the distribution of certain types of literature will induce criminal or immoral sexual conduct. It is well known, of course, that the validity of this assumption is a matter of dispute among critics, sociologists, psychiatrists, and penologists. There is a large school of thought, particularly in the scientific community, which denies any causal connection between the reading of pornography and immorality, crime, or delinquency. Others disagree. Clearly it is not our function to decide this question. That function belongs to the state legislature. Nothing in the Constitution requires California to accept as truth the most advanced and sophisticated psychiatric opinion. It seems to me clear that it is not irrational, in our present state of knowledge, to consider that pornography can induce a type of sexual conduct which a State may deem obnoxious to the *502moral fabric of society. In fact the very division of opinion on the subject counsels us to respect the choice made by the State.

Furthermore, even assuming that pornography cannot be deemed ever to cause, in an immediate sense, criminal sexual conduct, other interests within the proper cognizance of the States may be protected by the prohibition placed on such materials. The State can reasonably draw the inference that over a long period of time the indiscriminate dissemination of materials, the essential character of which is to degrade sex, will have an eroding effect on moral standards. And the State has a legitimate interest in protecting the privacy of the home against invasion of unsolicited obscenity.

Above all stands the realization that we deal here with an area where knowledge is small, data are insufficient, and experts are divided. Since the domain of sexual morality is pre-eminently a matter of state concern, this Court should be slow to interfere with state legislation calculated to protect that morality. It seems to me that nothing in the broad and flexible command of the Due Process Clause forbids California to prosecute one who sells books whose dominant tendency might be to “deprave or corrupt” a reader. I agree with the Court, of course, that the books must be judged as a whole and in relation to the normal adult reader.

What has been said, however, does not dispose of the case. It still remains for us to decide whether the state court’s determination that this material should be suppressed is consistent with the Fourteenth Amendment; and that, of course, presents a federal question as to which we, and not the state court, have the ultimate responsibility. And so, in the final analysis, I concur in the judgment because, upon an independent perusal of the material involved, and in light of the considerations dis*503cussed above, I cannot say that its suppression would so interfere with the communication of “ideas” in any proper sense of that term that it would offend the Due Process Clause. I therefore agree with the Court that appellant’s conviction must be affirmed.

III.

I dissent in No. 582, Roth v. United States.

We are faced here with the question whether the federal obscenity statute, as construed and applied in this case, violates the First Amendment to the Constitution. To me, this question is of quite a different order than one where we are dealing with state legislation under the Fourteenth Amendment. I do not think it follows that state and federal powers in this area are the same, and that just because the State may suppress a particular utterance, it is automatically permissible for the Federal Government to do the same. I agree with Mr. Justice Jackson that the historical evidence does not bear out the claim that the Fourteenth Amendment “incorporates” the First in any literal sense. See Beauharnais v. Illinois, supra. But laying aside any consequences which might flow from that conclusion, cf. Mr. Justice Holmes in Gitlow v. New York, 268 U. S. 652, 672,4 I prefer to rest my views about this case on broader and less abstract grounds.

The Constitution differentiates between those areas of human conduct subject to the regulation of the States and those subject to the powers of the Federal Government. The substantive powers of the two governments, in many *504instances, are distinct. And in every case where wé are called upon to balance the interest in free expression against other interests, it seems to me important that we should keep in the forefront the question of whether those other interests are state or federal. Since under our constitutional scheme the two are not necessarily equivalent, the balancing process must needs often produce different results. Whether a particular limitation on speech or press is to be upheld because it subserves a paramount governmental interest must, to a large extent, I think, depend on whether that government has, under the Constitution, a direct substantive interest, that is, the power to act, in the particular area involved.

The Federal Government has, for example, power to restrict seditious speech directed against it, because that Government certainly has the substantive authority to protect itself against revolution. Cf. Pennsylvania v. Nelson, 350 U. S. 497. But in dealing with obscenity we are faced with the converse situation, for the interests which obscenity statutes purportedly protect are primarily entrusted to the care, not of the Federal Government, but of the States. Congress has no substantive power over sexual morality. Such powers as the Federal Government, has in this field are but incidental to its other powers, here the postal power, and are not of the same nature as those possessed by the States, which bear direct responsibility for the protection of the local moral fabric.5 *505What Mr. Justice Jackson said in Beauharnais, supra, 343 U. S., at 294-295, about criminal libel is equally true of obscenity:

“The inappropriateness of a single standard for restricting State and Nation is indicated by the disparity between their functions and duties in relation to those freedoms. Criminality of defamation is predicated upon power either to protect the private right to enjoy integrity of reputation or the public right to tranquillity. Neither of these are objects of federal cognizance except when necessary to the accomplishment of some delegated power . . . . When the Federal Government puts liberty of press in one scale, it has a very limited duty to personal reputation or local tranquillity to weigh against it in the other. But state action affecting speech or press can and should be weighed against and reconciled with these conflicting social interests.”

Not only is the federal interest in protecting the Nation against pornography attenuated, but the dangers of federal censorship in this field are far greater than anything the States may do. It has often been said that one of the great strengths of our' federal system is that we have, in the forty-eight States, forty-eight experimental social laboratories. “State statutory law reflects predominantly this capacity of a legislature to introduce novel techniques of social control. The federal system has the immense advantage of providing forty-eight separate centers for such experimentation.” 6 Different States will have different attitudes toward the same work of literature. The same book which is freely read in one State might be *506classed as obscene in another.7 And it seems to me that no overwhelming danger to our freedom to experiment and to gratify our tastes in literature is likely to result from the suppression of a borderline book in one of the States, so long as there is no uniform nation-wide suppression of the book, and so long as other States are free to experiment with the same or bolder books.

Quite a different situation is presented, however, where the Federal Government imposes the ban. The danger is perhaps not great if the people of one State, through their legislature, decide that “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” goes so far beyond the acceptable standards of candor that it will be deemed offensive and non-sellable, for the State next door is still free to make its own choice. At least we do not have one uniform standard. But the dangers to free thought and expression are truly great if the Federal Government imposes a blanket ban over the Nation on such a book. The prerogative of the States to differ on their ideas of morality will be destroyed, the ability of States to experiment will be stunted. The fact that the people of one State cannot read some of the works of D. H. Lawrence seems to me, if not wise or desirable, at least acceptable. But that no person in the United States should be allowed to do so seems to me to be intolerable, and violative of both the letter and spirit of the First Amendment.

I judge this case, then, in view of what I think is the attenuated federal interest in this field, in view of the very real danger of a deadening uniformity which can result from nation-wide federal censorship, and in view of the *507fact that the constitutionality of this conviction must be weighed against the First and not the Fourteenth Amendment. So viewed, I do not think that this conviction can be upheld. The petitioner was convicted under a statute which, under the judge’s charge,8 makes it criminal to sell books which “tend to stir sexual impulses and lead to sexually impure thoughts.” I cannot agree that any book which tends to stir sexual impulses and lead to sexually impure thoughts necessarily is “utterly without redeeming social importance.” Not only did this charge fail to measure up to the standards which I understand the Court to approve, but as far as I can see, much of the great literature of the world could lead to conviction under such a view of the statute. Moreover, in no event do I think that the limited federal interest in this area can extend to mere “thoughts.” The Federal Government has no business, whether under the postal or commerce power, to bar the sale of books because they might lead to any kind of “thoughts.” 9

It is no answer to say, as the Court does, that obscenity is not protected speech. The point is that this statute, as here construed, defines obscenity so widely that it encompasses matters which might very well be protected speech. I do not think that the federal statute can be constitutionally construed to reach other than what the Government has termed as “hard-core” pornography. Nor do I think the statute can fairly be read as directed *508only at persons who are engaged in the business of catering to the prurient minded, even though their wares fall short of hard-core pornography. Such a statute would raise constitutional questions of a different order. That being so, and since in my opinion the material here involved cannot be said to be hard-core pornography, I would reverse this case with instructions to dismiss the indictment.

Mr. Justice Douglas,

with whom Mr. Justice Black concurs,

dissenting.

When we sustain these convictions, we make the legality of a publication turn on the purity of thought which a book or tract instills in the mind of the reader. I do not think we can approve that standard and be faithful to the command of the 'First Amendment, which by its terms is a restraint on Congress and which by the Fourteenth is a restraint on the States.

In the Roth case the trial judge charged the jury that the statutory words “obscene, lewd and lascivious” describe “that form of immorality which has relation to sexual impurity and has a tendency to excite lustful thoughts.” He stated that the term “filthy” in the statute pertains “to that sort of treatment of sexual matters in such a vulgar and indecent way, so that it tends to arouse a feeling of disgust and revulsion.” He went on to say that the material “must be calculated to corrupt and debauch the minds and morals” of “the average person in the community,” not those of any particular class. “You judge the circulars, pictures and publications which have been put in evidence by present-day standards of the community. You may ask yourselves does it offend the common conscience of the community by present-day standards.”

The trial judge who, sitting without a jury, heard the Alberts case and the appellate court that sustained the *509judgment of conviction, took California’s definition of “obscenity” from People v. Wepplo, 78 Cal. App. 2d Supp. 959, 961, 178 P. 2d 853, 855. That case held that a book is obscene “if it has a substantial tendency to deprave or corrupt its readers by inciting lascivious thoughts or arousing lustful desire.”

By these standards punishment is inflicted for thoughts provoked, not for overt acts nor antisocial conduct. This test cannot be squared with our decisions under the First Amendment. Even the ill-starred Dennis case conceded that speech to be punishable must have some relation to action which could be penalized by government. Dennis v. United States, 341 U. S. 494, 502-511. Cf. Chafee, The Blessings of Liberty (1956), p. 69. This issue cannot be avoided by saying that obscenity is not protected by the First Amendment. The question remains, what is the constitutional test of obscenity?

The tests by which these convictions were obtained require only the arousing of sexual thoughts. Yet the arousing of sexual thoughts and desires happens every day in normal life in dozens of ways. Nearly 30 years ago a questionnaire sent to college and normal school women graduates asked what things were most stimulating sexually. Of 409 replies, 9 said “music”; 18 said “pictures”; 29 said “dancing”; 40 said “drama”; 95 said “books”; and 218 said “man.” Alpert, Judicial Censorship of Obscene Literature, 52 Harv. L. Rev. 40, 73.

The test of obscenity the Court endorses today gives the censor free range over a vast domain. To allow the State to step in and punish mere speech or publication that the judge or the jury thinks has an undesirable impact on thoughts but that is not shown to be a part of unlawful action is drastically to curtail the First Amendment. As recently stated by two of our outstanding authorities on obscenity, “The danger of influencing a change in the current moral standards of the community, or of shocking *510or offending readers, or of stimulating sex thoughts or desires apart from objective conduct, can never justify the losses to society that result from interference with literary freedom.” Lockhart & McClure, Literature, The Law of Obscenity, and the Constitution, 38 Minn. L. Rev. 295, 387.

If we were certain that impurity of sexual thoughts impelled to action, we would be on less dangerous ground in punishing the distributors of this sex literature. But it is by no means clear that obscene literature, as so defined, is a significant factor in influencing substantial deviations from the community standards.

“There are a number of reasons for real and substantial doubts as to the soundness of that hypothesis. (1) Scientific studies of juvenile delinquency demonstrate that those who get into trouble, and are the greatest concern of the advocates of censorship, are far less inclined to read than those who do not become delinquent. The delinquents are generally the adventurous type, who have little use for reading and other non-active entertainment. Thus, even assuming that reading sometimes has an adverse effect upon moral conduct, the effect is not likely to be substantial, for those who are susceptible seldom read. (2) Sheldon and Eleanor Glueck, who are among the country’s leading authorities on the treatment and causes of juvenile delinquency, have recently published the results of a ten year study of its causes. They exhaustively studied approximately 90 factors and influences that might lead to or explain juvenile delinquency, but the Gluecks gave no consideration to the type of reading material, if any, read by the delinquents. This is, of course, consistent with their finding that delinquents read very little. When those who know so much about the problem of delinquency among youth — the very *511group about whom the advocates of censorship are most concerned — conclude that what delinquents read has so little effect upon their conduct that it is not worth investigating in an exhaustive study of causes, there is good reason for serious doubt concerning the basic hypothesis on which obscenity censorship is defended. (3) The many other influences in society that stimulate sexual desire are so much more frequent in their influence, and so much more potent in their effect, that the influence of reading is likely, at most, to be relatively insignificant in the composite of forces that lead an individual into conduct deviating from the community sex standards. The Kinsey studies show the minor degree to which literature serves as a potent sexual stimulant. And the studies demonstrating that sex knowledge seldom results from reading indicates [sic] the relative unimportance of literature in sex thoughts as compared with other factors in society.” Lockhart & McClure, op. cit. supra, pp. 385-386.

The absence of dependable information on the effect of obscene literature on human conduct should make us wary. It should put us on the side of protecting society’s interest in literature, except and unless it can be said that the particular publication has an impact on action that the government can control.

As noted, the trial judge in the Roth case charged the jury in the alternative that the federal obscenity statute outlaws literature dealing with sex which offends “the common conscience of the community.” That standard is, in my view, more inimical still to freedom of expression.

The standard of what offends “the common conscience of the community” conflicts, in my judgment, with the command of the First Amendment that “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or *512of the press.” Certainly that standard would not be an acceptable one if religion, economics, politics or philosophy were involved. How does it become a constitutional standard when literature treating with sex is concerned?

Any test that turns on what is offensive to the community’s standards is too loose, too capricious, too destructive of freedom of expression to be squared with the First Amendment. Under that test, juries can censor, suppress, and punish what they don’t like, provided the matter relates to “sexual impurity” or has a tendency “to excite lustful thoughts.” This is community censorship in one of its worst forms. It creates a regime where in the battle between the literati and the Philistines, the Philistines are certain to win. If experience in this field teaches anything, it is that “censorship of obscenity has almost always been both irrational and indiscriminate.” Lockhart & McClure, op. cit. supra, at 371. The test adopted here accentuates that trend.

I assume there is nothing in the Constitution which forbids Congress from using its power over the mails to proscribe conduct on the grounds of good morals. No one would suggest that the First Amendment permits nudity in public places, adultery, and other phases of sexual misconduct.

I can understand (and at times even sympathize) with programs of civic groups and church groups to protect and defend the existing moral standards of the community. I can understand the motives of the Anthony Comstocks who would impose Victorian standards on the community. When speech alone is involved, I do not think that government, consistently with the First Amendment, can become the sponsor of any of these movements. I do not think that government, consistently with the First Amendment, can throw its weight behind one school or another. Government should be *513concerned with antisocial conduct, not with utterances. Thus, if the First Amendment guarantee of freedom of speech and press is to mean anything in this field, it must allow protests even against the moral code that the standard of the day sets for the community. In other words, literature should not be suppressed merely because it offends the moral code of the censor.

The legality of a publication in this country should never be allowed to turn either on the purity of thought which it instills in the mind of the reader or on the degree to which it offends the community conscience. By either test the role of the censor is exalted, and society’s values in literary freedom are sacrificed.

The Court today suggests a third standard. It defines obscene material as that “which deals with sex in a manner appealing to prurient interest.”* Like the standards applied by the trial judges below, that standard does not require any nexus between the literature which is prohibited and action which the legislature can regulate or prohibit. Under the First Amendment, that standard is no more valid than those which the courts below adopted.

I do not think that the problem can be resolved by the Court’s statement that “obscenity is not expression pro*514tected by the First Amendment.” With the exception of Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, none of our cases has resolved problems of free speech and free press by placing any form of expression beyond the pale of the absolute prohibition of the First Amendment. Unlike the law of libel, wrongfully relied on in Beauharnais, there is no special historical evidence that literature dealing with sex was intended to be treated in a special manner by those who drafted the First Amendment. In fact, the first reported court decision in this country involving obscene literature was in 1821. Lockhart & McClure, op. cit. supra, at 324, n. 200. I reject too the implication that problems of freedom of speech and of the press are to be resolved by weighing against the values of free expression, the judgment of the Court that a particular form of that expression has “no redeeming social importance.” The First Amendment, its prohibition in terms absolute, was designed to preclude courts as well as legislatures from weighing the values of speech against silence. The First Amendment puts free speech in the preferred position.

Freedom of expression can be suppressed if, and to the extent that, it is so closely brigaded with illegal action as to be an inseparable part of it. Giboney v. Empire Storage Co., 336 U. S. 490, 498; Labor Board v. Virginia Power Co., 314 U. S. 469, 477-478. As a people, we cannot afford to relax that standard. For the test that suppresses a cheap tract today can suppress a literary gem tomorrow. All it need do is to incite a lascivious thought or arouse a lustful desire. The list of books that judges or juries can place in that category is endless.

I would give the broad sweep of the First Amendment full support. I have the same confidence in the ability of our people to reject noxious literature as I have in their capacity to sort out the true from the false in theology, economics, politics, or any other field.

15.11 One, Inc., v. Olesen 15.11 One, Inc., v. Olesen

ONE, INCORPORATED, v. OLESEN, POSTMASTER OF LOS ANGELES.

No. 290.

Decided January 13, 1958.

Eric Julber for petitioner.

Solicitor General Rankin, Acting Assistant Attorney General Leonard and Samuel D. Slade for respondent.

Per Curiam.

The petition for writ of certiorari is granted and the judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit is reversed. Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476.

15.12 New York Times Co. v. Sullivan 15.12 New York Times Co. v. Sullivan

376 U.S. 254
84 S.Ct. 710
11 L.Ed.2d 686
The NEW YORK TIMES COMPANY, Petitioner,

v.

L. B. SULLIVAN. Ralph D. ABERNATHY et al., Petitioners, v. L. B. SULLIVAN.

Nos. 39, 40.
Argued Jan. 6 and 7, 1964.
Decided March 9, 1964.

          [Syllabus from pages 254-255 intentionally omitted]

Page 255

                    William P. Rogers and Samuel R. Pierce, Jr., New York City, for petitioner in No. 40.

          Herbert Wechsler, New York City, for petitioners in No. 39.

          M. Roland Nachman, Jr., Montgomery, Ala., for respondent.

Page 256

           Mr. Justice BRENNAN delivered the opinion of the Court.

          We are required in this case to determine for the first time the extent to which the constitutional protections for speech and press limit a State's power to award damages in a libel action brought by a public official against critics of his official conduct.

          Respondent L. B. Sullivan is one of the three elected Commissioners of the City of Montgomery, Alabama. He testified that he was 'Commissioner of Public Affairs and the duties are supervision of the Police Department, Fire Department, Department of Cemetery and Department of Scales.' He brought this civil libel action against the four indiv dual petitioners, who are Negroes and Alabama clergymen, and against petitioner the New York Times Company, a New York corporation which publishes the New York Times, a daily newspaper. A jury in the Circuit Court of Montgomery County awarded him damages of $500,000, the full amount claimed, against all the petitioners, and the Supreme Court of Alabama affirmed. 273 Ala. 656, 144 So.2d 25.

          Respondent's complaint alleged that he had been libeled by statements in a full-page advertisement that was carried in the New York Times on March 29, 1960.1 Entitled 'Heed Their Rising Voices,' the advertisement began by stating that 'As the whole world knows by now, thousands of Southern Negro students are engaged in widespread non-violent demonstrations in positive affirmation of the right to live in human dignity as guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution and the Bill of Rights.' It went on to charge that 'in their efforts to uphold these guarantees, they are being met by an unprecedented wave of terror by those who would deny and negate that document which the whole world looks upon as setting the pattern for modern freedom. * * *' Succeeding

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paragraphs purported to illustrate the 'wave of terror' by describing certain alleged events. The text concluded with an appeal for funds for three purposes: support of the student movement, 'the struggle for the right-to-vote,' and the legal defense of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., leader of the movement, against a perjury indictment then pending in Montgomery.

          The text appeared over the names of 64 persons, many widely known for their activities in public affairs, religion, trade unions, and the performing arts. Below these names, and under a line reading 'We in the south who are struggling daily for dignity and freedom warmly endorse this appeal,' appeared the names of the four individual petitioners and of 16 other persons, all but two of whom were identified as clergymen in various Southern cities. The advertisement was signed at the bottom of the page by the 'Committee to Defend Martin Luther King and the Struggle for Freedom in the South,' and the officers of the Committee were listed.

          Of the 10 paragraphs of text in the advertisement, the third and a portion of the sixth were the basis of respondent's claim of libel. They read as follows:

          Third paragraph:

          'In Montgomery, Alabama, after students sang 'My Country, 'Tis of Thee' on the State Capitol steps, their leaders were expelled from school, and truckloads of police armed with shotguns and tear-gas ringed the Alabama State College Campus. When the entire student body protested to state authorities by refusing to re-register, their dining hall was padlocked in an attempt to starve them into submission.'

          Sixth paragraph:

          'Again and again the Southern violators have answered Dr. King's peaceful protests with intimidation and violence. They have bombed his home almost killing his wife and child. They have

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          assaulted his person. They have arrested him seven times—for 'speeding,' 'loitering' and similar 'offenses.' And now they have charged him with 'perjury'—a felony under which they could imprison him for ten years. * * *'

          Although neither of these statements mentions respondent by name, he contended that the word 'police' in the third paragraph referred to him as the Montgomery Commissioner who supervised the Police Department, so that he was being accused of 'ringing' the campus with police. He further claimed that the paragraph would be read as imputing to the police, and hence to him, the padlocking of the dining hall in order to starve the students into submission.2 As to the sixth paragraph, he contended that since arrests are ordinarily made by the police, the statement 'They have arrested (Dr. King) seven times' would be read as referring to him; he further contended that the 'They' who did the arresting would be equated with the 'They' who committed the other described acts and with the 'Southern violators.' Thus, he argued, the paragraph would be read as accusing the Montgomery police, and hence him, of answering Dr. King's protests with 'intimidation and violence,' bombing his home, assaulting his person, and charging him with perjury. Respondent and six other Montgomery residents testified that they read some or all of the statements as referring to him in his capacity as Commissioner.

          It is uncontroverted that some of the statements contained in the two paragraphs were not accurate descriptions of events which occurred in Montgomery. Although Negro students staged a demonstration on the State Capital steps, they sang the National Anthem and not 'My

Page 259

Country, 'Tis of Thee.' Although nine students were expelled by the State Board of Education, this was not for leading the demonstration at the Capitol, but for demanding service at a lunch counter in the Montgomery County Courthouse on another day. Not the entire student body, but most of it, had protested the expulsion, not by refusing to register, but by boycotting classes on a single day; virtually all the students did register for the ensuing semester. The campus dining hall was not padlocked on any occasion, and the only students who may have been barred from eating there were the few who had neither signed a preregistration application nor requested temporary meal tickets. Although the police were deployed near the campus in large numbers on three occasions, they did not at any time 'ring' the campus, and they were not called to the campus in connection with the demonstration on the State Capitol steps, as the third paragraph implied. Dr. King had not been arrested seven times, but only four; and although he claimed to have been assaulted some years earlier in connection with his arrest for loitering outside a courtroom, one of the officers who made the arrest denied that there was such an assault.

          On the premise that the charges in the sixth paragraph could be read as referring to him, respondent was allowed to prove that he had not participated in the events described. Although Dr. King's home had in fact been bombed twice when his wife and child were there, both of these occasions antedated respondent's tenure as Commissioner, and the police were not only not implicated in the bombings, but had made every effort to apprehend those who were. Three of Dr. King's four arrests took place before respondent became Commissioner. Although Dr. King had in fact been indicted (he was subsequently acquitted) on two counts of perjury, each of which carried a possible five-year sentence, respondent had nothing to do with procuring the indictment.

Page 260

          Respondent made no effort to prove that he suffered actual pecuniary loss as a result of the alleged libel.3 One of his witnesses, a former employer, testified that if he had believed the statements, he doubted whether he 'would want to be associated with anybody who would be a party to such things that are stated in that ad,' and that he would not re-employ respondent if he believed 'that he allowed the Police Department to do the things that the paper say he did.' But neither this witness nor any of the others testified that he had actually believed the statements in their supposed reference to respondent.

          The cost of the advertisement was approximately $4800, and it was published by the Times upon an order from a New York advertising agency acting for the signatory Committee. The agency submitted the advertisement with a letter from A. Philip Randolph, Chairman of the Committee, certifying that the persons whose names appeared on the advertisement had given their permission. Mr. Randolph was known to the Times' Advertising Acceptability Department as a responsible person, and in accepting the letter as sufficient proof of authorization it followed its established practice. There was testimony that the copy of the advertisement which accompanied the letter listed only the 64 names appearing under the text, and that the statement, 'We in the south * * * warmly endorse this appeal,' and the list of names thereunder, which included those of the individual petitioners, were subsequently added when the first proof of the advertisement was received. Each of the individual petitioners testified that he had not authorized the use of his name, and that he had been unaware of its use until receipt of respondent's demand for a retraction. The manager of the Advertising Ac-

Page 261

ceptability Department testified that he had approved the advertisement for publication because he knew nothing to cause him to believe that anything in it was false, and because it bore the endorsement of 'a number of people who are well known and whose reputation' he 'had no reason to question.' Neither he nor anyone else at the Times made an effort to confirm the accuracy of the advertisement, either by checking it against recent Times news stories relating to some of the described events or by any other means.

          Alabama law denies a public officer recovery of punitive damages in a libel action brought on account of a publication concerning his official conduct unless he first makes a written demand for a public retraction and the defendant fails or refuses to comply. Alabama Code, Tit. 7, § 914. Respondent served such a demand upon each of the petitioners. None of the individual petitioners responded to the demand, primarily because each took the position that he had not authorized the use of his name on the advertisement and therefore had not published the statements that respondent alleged had libeled him. The Times did not publish a retraction in response to the demand, but wrote respondent a letter stating, among other things, that 'we * * * are somewhat puzzled as to how you think the statements in any way reflect on you,' and 'you might, if you desire, let us know in what respect you claim that the statements in the advertisement reflect on you.' Respondent filed this suit a few days later without answering the letter. The Times did, however, subsequently publish a retraction of the advertisement upon the demand of Governor John Patterson of Alabama, who asserted that the publication charged him with 'grave misconduct and * * * improper actions and omissions as Governor of Alabama and Ex-Officio Chairman of the State Board of Education of Alabama.' When asked to explain why there had been a retraction for the Governor but not for respondent, the

Page 262

Secretary of the Times testified: 'We did that because we didn't want anything that was published by The Times to be a reflection on the State of Alabama and the Governor was, as far as we could see, the embodiment of the State of Alabama and the proper representative of the State and, furthermore, we had by that time learned more of the actual facts which the ad purported to recite and, finally, the ad did refer to the action of the State authorities and the Board of Education presumably of which the Governor is the ex-officio chairman * * *.' On the other hand, he testified that he did not think that 'any of the language in there referred to Mr. Sullivan.'

          The trial judge submitted the case to the jury under instructions that the statements in the advertisement were 'libelous per se' and were not privileged, so that petitioners might be held liable if the jury found that they had published the advertisement and that the statements were made 'of and concerning' respondent. The jury was instructed that, because the statements were libelous per se, 'the law * * * implies legal injury from the bare fact of publication itself,' 'falsity and malice are presumed,' 'general damages need not be alleged or pro ed but are presumed,' and 'punitive damages may be awarded by the jury even though the amount of actual damages is neither found nor shown.' An award of punitive damages—as distinguished from 'general' damages, which are compensatory in nature—apparently requires proof of actual malice under Alabama law, and the judge charged that 'mere negligence or carelessness is not evidence of actual malice or malice in fact, and does not justify an award of exemplary or punitive damages.' He refused to charge, however, that the jury must be 'convinced' of malice, in the sense of 'actual intent' to harm or 'gross negligence and recklessness,' to make such an award, and he also refused to require that a verdict for respondent differentiate between compensatory and punitive damages. The judge rejected petitioners' con-

Page 263

tention that his rulings abridged the freedoms of speech and of the press that are guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments.

          In affirming the judgment, the Supreme Court of Alabama sustained the trial judge's rulings and instructions in all respects. 273 Ala. 656, 144 So.2d 25. It held that '(w)here the words published tend to injure a person libeled by them in his reputation, profession, trade or business, or charge him with an indictable offense, or tends to bring the individual into public contempt,' they are 'libelous per se'; that 'the matter complained of is, under the above doctrine, libelous per se, if it was published of and concerning the plaintiff'; and that it was actionable without 'proof of pecuniary injury * * *, such injury being implied.' Id., at 673, 676, 144 So.2d, at 37, 41. It approved the trial court's ruling that the jury could find the statements to have been made 'of and concerning' respondent, stating: 'We think it common knowledge that the average person knows that municipal agents, such as police and firemen, and others, are under the control and direction of the city governing body, and more particularly under the direction and control of a single commissioner. In measuring the performance or deficiencies of such groups, praise or criticism is usually attached to the official in complete control of the body.' Id., at 674—675, 144 So.2d at 39. In sustaining the trial court's determination that the verdict was not excessive, the court said that malice could be inferred from the Times' 'irresponsibility' in printing the advertisement while 'the Times in its own files had articles already published which would have demonstrated the falsity of the allegations in the advertisement'; from the Times' failure to retract for respondent while retracting for the Governor, whereas the falsity of some of the allegations was then known to the Times and 'the matter contained in the advertisement was equally false as to both parties'; and from the testimony of the Times' Secretary that,

Page 264

apart from the statement that the dining hall was padlocked, he thought the two paragraphs were 'substantially correct.' Id., at 686—687, 144 So.2d, at 50—51. The court reaffirmed a statement in an earlier opinion that 'There is no legal measure of damages in cases of this character.' Id., at 686, 144 So.2d, at 50. It rejected petitioners' constitutional contentions with the brief statements that 'The First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution does not protect libelous publications' and 'The Fourteenth Amendment is directed against State action and not private action.' Id., at 676, 144 So.2d, at 40.

          Because of the importance of the constitutional issues involved, we granted the separate petitions for certiorari of the individual petitioners and of the Times. 371 U.S. 946, 83 S.Ct. 510, 9 L.Ed.2d 496. We reverse the judgment. We hold that the rule of law applied by the Alabama courts is constitutionally deficient for failure to provide the safeguards for freedom of speech and of the press that are required by the First and Fourteenth Amendments in a libel action brought by a public official against critics of his official conduct. 4 We

Page 265

further hol that under the proper safeguards the evidence presented in this case is constitutionally insufficient to support the judgment for respondent.

I.

          We may dispose at the outset of two grounds asserted to insulate the judgment of the Alabama courts from constitutional scrutiny. The first is the proposition relied on by the State Supreme Court—that 'The Fourteenth Amendment is directed against State action and not private action.' That proposition has no application to this case. Although this is a civil lawsuit between private parties, the Alabama courts have applied a state rule of law which petitioners claim to impose invalid restrictions on their constitutional freedoms of speech and press. It matters not that that law has been applied in a civil action and that it is common law only, though supplemented by statute. See, e.g., Alabama Code, Tit. 7, §§ 908—917. The test is not the form in which state power has been applied but, whatever the form, whether such power has in fact been exercised. See Ex parte Virginia, 100 U.S. 339, 346—347, 25 L.Ed. 676; American Federation of Labor v. Swing, 312 U.S. 321, 61 S.Ct. 568, 85 L.Ed. 855.

          The second contention is that the constitutional guarantees of freedom of speech and of the press are inapplicable here, at least so far as the Times is concerned, because the allegedly libelous statements were published as part of a paid, 'commercial' advertisement. The argument relies on Valentine v. Chrestensen, 316 U.S. 52, 62 S.Ct. 920, 86 L.Ed. 1262, where the Court held that a city ordinance forbidding street distribution of commercial and business advertising matter did not abridge the First Amendment freedoms, even as applied to a handbill having a commercial message on one side but a protest against certain official action on the other. The reliance is wholly misplaced. The Court in Chrestensen reaffirmed the constitutional protection for 'the freedom of communicating

Page 266

information and disseminating opinion'; its holding was based upon the factual conclusions that the handbill was 'purely commercial advertising' and that the protest against official action had been added only to evade the ordinance.

          The publication here was not a 'commercial' advertisement in the sense in which the word was used in Chrestensen. It communicated information, expressed opinion, recited grievances, protested claimed abuses, and sought financial support on behalf of a movement whose existence and objectives are matters of the highest public interest and concern. See N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 435, 83 S.Ct. 328, 9 L.Ed.2d 405. That the Times was paid for publishing the advertisement is as immaterial in this connection as is the fact that newspapers and books are sold. Smith v. California, 361 U.S. 147, 150, 80 S.Ct. 215, 4 L.Ed.2d 205; cf. Bantam Books, Inc. v. Sullivan, 372 U.S. 58, 64, n. 6, 83 S.Ct. 631, 9 L.Ed.2d 584. Any other conclusion would discourage newspapers from carrying 'editorial advertisements' of this type, and so might shut off an important outlet for the promulgation of information and ideas by persons who do not themselves have access to publishing facilities—who wish to exercise their freedom of speech even though they are not members of the press. Cf. Lovell v. City of Griffin, 303 U.S. 444, 452, 58 S.Ct. 666, 82 L.Ed. 949; Schneider v. State, 308 U.S. 147, 164, 60 S.Ct. 146, 84 L.Ed. 155. The effect would be to shackle the First Amendment in its attempt to secure 'the widest possible dissemination of information from diverse and antagonistic sources.' Associated Press v. United States, 326 U.S. 1, 20, 65 S.Ct. 1416, 1424, 89 L.Ed. 2013. To avoid placing such a handicap upon the freedoms of expression, we hold that if the allegedly libelous statements would otherwise be contitutionally protected from the present judgment, they do not forfeit that protection because they were published in the form of a paid advertisement.5

Page 267

II.

          Under Alabama law as applied in this case, a publication is 'libelous per se' if the words 'tend to injure a person * * * in his reputation' or to 'bring (him) into public contempt'; the trial court stated that the standard was met if the words are such as to 'injure him in his public office, or impute misconduct to him in his office, or want of official integrity, or want of fidelity to a public trust * * *.' The jury must find that the words were published 'of and concerning' the plaintiff, but where the plaintiff is a public official his place in the governmental hierarchy is sufficient evidence to support a finding that his reputation has been affected by statements that reflect upon the agency of which he is in charge. Once 'libel per se' has been established, the defendant has no defense as to stated facts unless he can persuade the jury that they were true in all their particulars. Alabama Ride Co. v. Vance, 235 Ala. 263, 178 So. 438 (1938); Johnson Publishing Co. v. Davis, 271 Ala. 474, 494—495, 124 So.2d 441, 457—458 (1960). His privilege of 'fair comment' for expressions of opinion depends on the truth of the facts upon which the comment is based. Parsons v. Age-Herald Publishing Co., 181 Ala. 439, 450, 61 So. 345, 350 (1913). Unless he can discharge the burden of proving truth, general damages are presumed, and may be awarded without proof of pecuniary injury. A showing of actual malice is apparently a prerequisite to recovery of punitive damages, and the defendant may in any event forestall a punitive award by a retraction meeting the statutory requirements. Good motives and belief in truth do not negate an inference of malice, but are relevant only in mitigation of punitive damages if the jury chooses to accord them weight. Johnson Publishing Co. v. Davis, supra, 271 Ala., at 495, 124 So.2d, at 458.

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          The question before us is whether this rule of liability, as applied to an action brought by a public official against critics of his official conduct, abridges the freedom of speech and of the press that is guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments.

          Respondent relies heavily, as did the Alabama courts, on statements of this Court to the effect that the Constitution does not protect libelous publications.6 Those statements do not foreclose our inquiry here. None of the cases sustained the use of libel laws to impose sanctions upon expression critical of the official conduct of public officials. The dictum in Pennekamp v. Florida, 328 U.S. 331, 348—349, 66 S.Ct. 1029, 1038, 90 L.Ed. 1295, that 'when the statements amount to defamation, a judge has such remedy in damages for libel as do other public servants,' implied no view as to what remedy might constitutionally be afforded to public officials. In Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U.S. 250, 72 S.Ct. 725, 96 L.Ed. 919, the Court sustained an Illin is criminal libel statute as applied to a publication held to be both defamatory of a racial group and 'liable to cause violence and disorder.' But the Court was careful to note that it 'retains and exercises authority to nullify action which encroaches on freedom of utterance under the guise of punishing libel'; for 'public men, are, as it were, public property,' and 'discussion cannot be denied and the right, as well as the duty, of criticism must not be stifled.' Id., at 263—264, 72 S.Ct. at 734, 96 L.Ed. 919 and n. 18. In the only previous case that did present the question of constitutional limitations upon the power to award damages for libel of a public official, the Court was equally divided and the question was not decided. Schenectady Union Pub. Co. v. Sweeney, 316 U.S. 642, 62 S.Ct. 1031, 86 L.Ed. 1727.

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In deciding the question now, we are compelled by neither precedent nor policy to give any more weight to the epithet 'libel' than we have to other 'mere labels' of state law. N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 429, 83 S.Ct. 328, 9 L.Ed.2d 405. Like insurrection,7 contempt,8 advocacy of unlawful acts,9 breach of the peace,10 obscenity,11 solicitation of legal business,12 and the various other formulae for the repression of expression that have been challenged in this Court, libel can claim no talismanic immunity from constitutional limitations. It must be measured by standards that satisfy the First Amendment.

          The general proposition that freedom of expression upon public questions is secured by the First Amendment has long been settled by our decisions. The constitutional safeguard, we have said, 'was fashioned to assure unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of political and social changes desired by the people.' Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 484, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1308, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498. 'The maintenance of the opportunity for free political discussion to the end that government may be responsive to the will of the people and that changes may be obtained by lawful means, an opportunity essential to the security of the Republic, is a fundamental principle of our constitutional system.' Stromberg v. California, 283 U.S. 359, 369, 51 S.Ct. 532, 536, 75 L.Ed. 1117. '(I)t is a prized American privilege to speak one's mind, although not always with perfect good taste, on all public institutions,' Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 270, 62 S.Ct. 190, 197, 86 L.Ed. 192, and this opportunity is to be afforded for 'vigorous advocacy' no less than 'abstract discussion.' N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 429, 83 S.Ct. 328, 9 L.Ed.2d 405.

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The First Amendment, said Judge Learned Hand, 'presupposes that right conclusions are more likely to be gathered out of a multitude of tongues, than through any kind of authoritative selection. To many this is, and always will be, folly; but we have staked upon it our all.' United States v. Associated Press, 52 F.Supp. 362, 372 (D.C.S.D.N.Y.1943). Mr. Justice Brandeis, in his concurring opinion in Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 375 376, 47 S.Ct. 641, 648, 71 L.Ed. 1095, gave the principle its classic formulation:

          'Those who won our independence believed * * * that public discussion is a political duty; and that this should be a fundamental principle of the American government. They recognized the risks to which all human institutions are subject. But they knew that order cannot be secured merely through fear of punishment for its infraction; that it is hazardous to discourage thought, hope and imagination; that fear breeds repression; that repression breeds hate; that hate menaces stable government; that the path of safety lies in the opportunity to discuss freely supposed grievances and proposed remedies; and that the fitting remedy for evil counsels is good ones. Believing in the power of reason as applied through public discussion, they eschewed silence coerced by law—the argument of force in its worst form. Recognizing the occasional tyrannies of governing majorities, they amended the Constitution so that free speech and assembly should be guaranteed.'

          Thus we consider this case against the background of a profound national commitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open, and that it may well include vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp attacks on government and public officials. See Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U.S. 1, 4, 69 S.Ct. 894, 93 L.Ed. 1131; De Jonge v. Oregon, 299 U.S. 353,

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365, 57 S.Ct. 255, 81 L.Ed. 278. The present advertisement, as an expression of grievance and protest on one of the major public issues of our time, would seem clearly to qualify for the constitutional protection. The question is whether it forfeits that protection by the falsity of some of its factual statements and by its alleged defamation of respondent.

          Authoritative interpretations of the First Amendment guarantees have consistently refused to recognize an exception for any test of truth—whether administered by judges, juries, or administrative officials—and especially one that puts the burden of proving truth on the speaker. Cf. Speiser v. Randall, 357 U.S. 513, 525—526, 78 S.Ct. 1332, 2 L.Ed.2d 1460. The constitutional protection does not turn upon 'the truth, popularity, or social utility of the ideas and beliefs which are offered.' N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 445, 83 S.Ct. 328, 344, 9 L.Ed.2d 405. As Madison said, 'Some degree of abuse is inseparable from the proper use of every thing; and in no instance is this more true than in that of the press.' 4 Elliot's Debates on the Federal Constitution (1876), p. 571. In Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U.S. 296, 310, 60 S.Ct. 900, 906, 84 L.Ed. 1213, the Court declared:

          'In the realm of religious faith, and in that of political belief, sharp differences arise. In both fields the tenets of one man may seem the rankest error to his neighbor. To persuade others to his own point of view, the pleader, as we know, at times, resorts to exaggeration, to vilification of men who have been, or are, prominent in church or state, and even to false statement. But the people of this nation have ordained in the light of history, that, in spite of the probability of excesses and abuses, these liberties are, in the long view, essential to enlightened opinion and right conduct on the part of the citizens of a democracy.'

          That erroneous statement is inevitable in free debate, and that it must be protected if the freedoms of ex-

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pression are to have the 'breathing space' that they 'need * * * to survive,' N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 433, 83 S.Ct. 328, 338, 9 L.Ed.2d 405, was also recognized by the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit in Sweeney v. Patterson, 76 U.S.App.D.C. 23, 24, 128 F.2d 457, 458 (1942), cert. denied, 317 U.S. 678, 63 S.Ct. 160, 87 L.Ed. 544. Judge Edgerton spoke for a unanimous court which affirmed the dismissal of a Congressman's libel suit based upon a newspaper article charging him with an i-Semitism in opposing a judicial appointment. He said:

          'Cases which impose liability for erroneous reports of the political conduct of officials reflect the obsolete doctrine that the governed must not criticize their governors. * * * The interest of the public here outweighs the interest of appellant or any other individual. The protection of the public requires not merely discussion, but information. Political conduct and views which some respectable people approve, and others condemn, are constantly imputed to Congressmen. Errors of fact, particularly in regard to a man's mental states and processes, are inevitable. * * * Whatever is added to the field of libel is taken from the field of free debate.'13

          Injury to official reputation error affords no more warrant for repressing speech that would otherwise be free than does factual error. Where judicial officers are involved, this Court has held that concern for the dignity and

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reputation of the courts does not justify the punishment as criminal contempt of criticism of the judge or his decision. Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 62 S.Ct. 190, 86 L.Ed. 192. This is true even though the utterance contains 'half-truths' and 'misinformation.' Pennekamp v. Florida, 328 U.S. 331, 342, 343, n. 5, 345, 66 S.Ct. 1029, 90 L.Ed. 1295. Such repression can be justified, if at all, only by a clear and present danger of the obstruction of justice. See also Craig v. Harney, 331 U.S. 367, 67 S.Ct. 1249, 91 L.Ed. 1546; Wood v. Georgia, 370 U.S. 375, 82 S.Ct. 1364, 8 L.Ed.2d 569. If judges are to be treated as 'men of fortitude, able to thrive in a hardy climate,' Craig v. Harney, supra, 331 U.S., at 376, 67 S.Ct., at 1255, 91 L.Ed. 1546, surely the same must be true of other government officials, such as elected city commissioners.14 Criticism of their official conduct does not lose its constitutional protection merely because it is effective criticism and hence diminishes their official reputations.

          If neither factual error nor defamatory content suffices to remove the constitutional shield from criticism of official conduct, the combination of the two elements is no less inadequate. This is the lesson to be drawn from the great controversy over the Sedition Act of 1798, 1 Stat. 596, which first crystallized a national awareness of the central meaning of the First Amendment. See Levy, Legacy of Suppression (1960), at 258 et seq.; Smith, Freedom's Fetters (1956), at 426, 431 and passim. That statute made it a crime, punishable by a $5,000 fine and five years in prison, 'if any person shall write, print, utter or publish * * * any false, scandalous and malicious

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writing or writings against the government of the United States, or either house of the Congress * * *, or the President * * *, with intent to defame * * * o to bring them, or either of them, into contempt or disrepute; or to excite against them, or either or any of them, the hatred of the good people of the United States.' The Act allowed the defendant the defense of truth, and provided that the jury were to be judges both of the law and the facts. Despite these qualifications, the Act was vigorously condemned as unconstitutional in an attack joined in by Jefferson and Madison. In the famous Virginia Resolutions of 1798, the General Assembly of Virginia resolved that it

          'doth particularly protest against the palpable and alarming infractions of the Constitution, in the two late cases of the 'Alien and Sedition Acts,' passed at the last session of Congress * * *. (The Sedition Act) exercises * * * a power not delegated by the Constitution, but, on the contrary, expressly and positively forbidden by one of the amendments thereto—a power which, more than any other, ought to produce universal alarm, because it is levelled against the right of freely examining public characters and measures, and of free communication among the people thereon, which has ever been justly deemed the only effectual guardian of every other right.' 4 Elliot's Debates, supra, pp. 553—554.

          Madison prepared the Report in support of the protest. His premise was that the Constitution created a form of government under which 'The people, not the government, possess the absolute sovereignty.' The structure of the government dispersed power in reflection of the people's distrust of concentrated power, and of power itself at all levels. This form of government was 'altogether different' from the British form, under which the Crown was sovereign and the people were subjects. 'Is

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it not natural and necessary, under such different circumstances,' he asked, 'that a different degree of freedom in the use of the press should be contemplated?' Id., pp. 569—570. Earlier, in a debate in the House of Representatives, Madison had said: 'If we advert to the nature of Republican Government, we shall find that the censorial power is in the people over the Government, and not in the Government over the people.' 4 Annals of Congress, p. 934 (1794). Of the exercise of that power by the press, his Report said: 'In every state, probably, in the Union, the press has exerted a freedom in canvassing the merits and measures of public men, of every description, which has not been confined to the strict limits of the common law. On this footing the freedom of the press has stood; on this foundation it yet stands * * *.' 4 Elliot's Debates, supra, p. 570. The right of free public discussion of the stewardship of public officials was thus, in Madison's view, a fundamental principle of the American form of government.15

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          Although the Sedition Act was never tested in this Court 16 the attack upon its validity has carried the day in the court of history. Fines levied in its prosecution were repaid by Act of Congress on the ground that it was unconstitutional. See, e.g., Act of July 4, 1840, c. 45, 6 Stat. 802, accompanied by H.R.Rep.No. 86, 26th Cong., 1st Sess. (1840). Calhoun, reporting to the Senate on February 4, 1836, assumed that its invalidity was a matter 'which no one now doubts.' Report with Senate bill No. 122, 24th Cong., 1st Sess., p. 3. Jefferson, as President, pardoned those who had been convicted and sentenced under the Act and remitted their fines, stating: 'I discharged every person under punishment or prosecution under the sedition law, because I considered, and now consider, that law to be a nullity, as absolute and as palpable as if Congress had ordered us to fall down and worship a golden image.' Letter to Mrs. Adams, July 22, 1804, 4 Jefferson's Works (Washington ed.), pp. 555, 556. The invalidity of the Act has also been assumed by Justices of this Court. See Holmes, J., dissenting and joined by Brandeis, J., in Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616, 630, 40 S.Ct. 17, 63 L.Ed. 1173; Jackson, J., dissenting in Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U.S. 250, 288—289, 72 S.Ct. 725, 96 L.Ed. 919; Douglas, The Right of the People (1958), p. 47. See also Cooley, Constitutional Limitations (8th ed., Carrington, 1927), pp. 899—900; Chafee, Free Speech in the United States (1942), pp. 27—28. These views reflect a broad consensus that the Act, because of the restraint it imposed upon criticism of government and public officials, was inconsistent with the First Amendment.

          There is no force in respondent's argument that the constitutional limitations implicit in the history of the Sedition Act apply only to Congress and not to the States. It is true that the First Amendment was originally addressed only to action by the Federal Government, and

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that Jefferson, for one, while denying the power of Congress 'to controul the freedom of the press,' recognized such a power in the States. See the 1804 Letter to Abigail Adams quoted in Dennis v. United States, 341 U.S. 494, 522, n. 4, 71 S.Ct. 857, 95 L.Ed. 1137 (concurring opinion). But this distinction was eliminated with the adoption of the Fourteenth Amendment and the application to the States of the First Amendment's restrictions. See, e.g., Gitlow v. New York, 268 U.S. 652, 666, 45 S.Ct. 625, 69 L.Ed. 1138; Schneider v. State, 308 U.S. 147, 160, 60 S.Ct. 146, 84 L.Ed. 155; Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 268, 62 S.Ct. 190, 86 L.Ed. 192; Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U.S. 229, 235, 83 S.Ct. 680, 9 L.Ed.2d 697.

          What a State may not constitutionally bring about by means of a criminal statute is likewise beyond the reach of its civil law of libel.17 The fear of damage awards under a rule such as that invoked by the Alabama courts here may be markedly more inhibiting than the fear of prosecution under a criminal statute. See City of Chicago v. Tribune Co., 307 Ill. 595, 607, 139 N.E. 86, 90 (1923). Alabama, for example, has a criminal libel law which subjects to prosecution 'any person who speaks, writes, or prints of and concerning another any accusation falsely and maliciously importing the commission by such person of a felony, or any other indictable offense involving moral turpitude,' and which allows as punishment upon conviction a fine not exceeding $500 and a prison sentence of six months. Alabama Code, Tit. 14, § 350. Presumably a person charged with violation of this statute enjoys ordinary criminal-law safeguards such as the requirements of an indictment and of proof beyond a reasonable doubt. These safeguards are not available to the defendant in a civil action. The judgment awarded in this case—without the need for any proof of actual pecuniary loss—was one thousand times greater than the maximum fine provided by the Alabama criminal statute, and one hundred times greater than that provided by the Sedition Act.

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And since there is n double-jeopardy limitation applicable to civil lawsuits, this is not the only judgment that may be awarded against petitioners for the same publication.18 Whether or not a newspaper can survive a succession of such judgments, the pall of fear and timidity imposed upon those who would give voice to public criticism is an atmosphere in which the First Amendment freedoms cannot survive. Plainly the Alabama law of civil libel is 'a form of regulation that creates hazards to protected freedoms markedly greater than those that attend reliance upon the criminal law.' Bantam Books, Inc. v. Sullivan, 372 U.S. 58, 70, 83 S.Ct. 631, 639, 9 L.Ed.2d 584.

          The state rule of law is not saved by its allowance of the defense of truth. A defense for erroneous statements honestly made is no less essential here than was the requirement of proof of guilty knowledge which, in Smith v. California, 361 U.S. 147, 80 S.Ct. 215, 4 L.Ed.2d 205, we held indispensiable to a valid conviction of a bookseller for possessing obscene writings for sale. We said:

          'For if the bookseller is criminally liable without knowledge of the contents, * * * he will tend to restrict the books he sells to those he has inspected; and thus the State will have imposed a restriction upon the distribution of constitutionally protected as well as obscene literature. * * * And the bookseller's burden would become the public's burden, for by restricting him the public's access to reading matter would be restricted. * * * (H)is timidity in the face of his absolute criminal liability, thus would tend to restrict the public's access to forms of the printed word which the State could not constitu-

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          tionally suppress directly. The bookseller's self-censorship, compelled by the State, would be a censorship affecting the whole public, hardly less virulent for being privately administered. Through it, the distribution of all books, both obscene and not obscene, would be impeded.' (361 U.S. 147, 153—154, 80 S.Ct. 215, 218, 4 L.Ed.2d 205.)

          A rule compelling the critic of official conduct to guarantee the truth of all his factual assertions—and to do so on pain of libel judgments virtually unlimited in amount—leads to a comparable 'self-censorship.' Allowance of the defense of truth, with the burden of proving it on the defendant, does not mean that only false speech will be deterred.19 Even courts accepting this defense as an adequate safeguard have recognized the difficulties of adducing legal proofs that the alleged libel was true in all its factual particulars. See, e.g., Post Publishing Co. v. Hallam, 59 F. 530, 540 (C.A.6th Cir. 1893); see also Noel, Defamation of Public Officers and Candidates, 49 Col.L.Rev. 875, 892 (1949). Under such a rule, would-be critics of official conduct may be deterred from voicing their criticism, even though it is believed to be true and even though it is in fact true, because of doubt whether it can be proved in court or fear of the expense of having to do so. They tend to make only statements which 'steer far wider of the unlawful zone.' Speiser v. Randall, supra, 357 U.S., at 526, 78 S.Ct. at 1342, 2 L.Ed.2d 1460. The rule thus dampens the vigor and limits the variety of public debate. It is inconsistent with the First and Fourteenth Amendments.

          The constitutional guarantees require, we think, a federal rule that prohibits a public official from recovering damages for a defamatory falsehood relating to his official conduct unless he proves that the statement was made

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with 'actual malice'—that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not. An oft-cited statement of a like rule, which has been adopted by a number of state courts,20 is found in the Kansas case of Coleman v. MacLennan, 78 Kan. 711, 98 P. 281 (1908). The State Attorney General, a candidate for re-election and a member of the commission charged with the management and control of the state school fund, sued a newspaper publisher for alleged libel in an article purporting to state facts relating to his official conduct in connection with a school-fund transaction. The defendant pleaded privilege and the trial judge, over the plaintiff's objection, instructed the jury that

          'where an article is published and circulated among voters for the sole purpose of giving wha the de-

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          fendant believes to be truthful information concerning a candidate for public office and for the purpose of enabling such voters to cast their ballot more intelligently, and the whole thing is done in good faith and without malice, the article is privileged, although the principal matters contained in the article may be untrue in fact and derogatory to the character of the plaintiff; and in such a case the burden is on the plaintiff to show actual malice in the publication of the article.'

          In answer to a special question, the jury found that the plaintiff had not proved actual malice, and a general verdict was returned for the defendant. On appeal the Supreme Court of Kansas, in an opinion by Justice Burch, reasoned as follows (78 Kan., at 724, 98 P., at 286):

          '(I)t is of the utmost consequence that the people should discuss the character and qualifications of candidates for their suffrages. The importance to the state and to society of such discussions is so vast, and the advantages derived are so great that they more than counterbalance the inconvenience of private persons whose conduct may be involved, and occasional injury to the reputations of individuals must yield to the public welfare, although at times such injury may be great. The publi benefit from publicity is so great and the chance of injury to private character so small that such discussion must be privileged.'

          The court thus sustained the trial court's instruction as a correct statement of the law, saying:

          'In such a case the occasion gives rise to a privilege qualified to this extent. Any one claiming to be defamed by the communication must show actual malice, or go remediless. This privilege extends to a great variety of subjects and includes matters of

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          public concern, public men, and candidates for office.' 78 Kan., at 723, 98 P., at 285.

          Such a privilege for criticism of official conduct21 is appropriately analogous to the protection accorded a public official when he is sued for libel by a private citizen. In Barr v. Matteo, 360 U.S. 564, 575, 79 S.Ct. 1335, 1341, 3 L.Ed.2d 1434, this Court held the utterance of a federal official to be absolutely privileged if made 'within the outer perimeter' of his duties. The States accord the same immunity to statements of their highest officers, although some differentiate their lesser officials and qualify the privilege they enjoy.22 But all hold that all officials are protected unless actual malice can be proved. The reason for the official privilege is said to be that the threat of damage suits would otherwise 'inhibit the fearless, vigorous, and effective administration of policies of government' and 'dampen the ardor of all but the most resolute, or the most irresponsible, in the unflinching discharge of their duties.' Barr v. Matteo, supra, 360 U.S., at 571, 79 S.Ct., at 1339, 3 L.Ed.2d 1434. Analogous considerations support the privilege for the citizen-critic of government. It is as much his duty to criticize as it is the official's duty to administer. See Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 375, 47 S.Ct. 641, 648, 71 L.Ed. 1095 (concurring opinion of Mr. Justice Brandeis), quoted supra, p. 270. As Madison said, see supra, p. 275, 'the censorial power is in the people over the Government, and not in the Government over the people.' It would give public servants an unjustified preference over the public they serve, if critics of official conduct

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did not have a fair equivalent of the immunity granted to the officials themselves.

          We conclude that such a privilege is required by the First and Fourteenth Amendments.

III.

          We hold today that the Constitution delimits a State's power to award damages for libel in actions brought by public officials against critics of their official conduct. Since this is such an action,23 the rule requiring proof of actual malice is applicable. While Alabama law apparently requires proof of actual malice for an award of punitive damages,24 where general damages are concerned malice is 'presumed.' Such a presumption is inconsistent

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with the federal rule. 'The power to create presumptions is not a means of escape from constitutional restrictions,' Bailey v. Alabama, 219 U.S. 219, 239, 31 S.Ct. 145, 151, 55 L.Ed. 191; '(t)he showing of malice required for the forfeiture of the privilege is not presumed but is a matter for proof by the plaintiff * * *.' Lawrence v. Fox, 357 Mich. 134, 146, 97 N.W.2d 719, 725 (1959).25 Since the trial judge did not instruct the jury to differentiate between general and punitive damages, it may be that the verdict was wholly an award of one or the other. But it is impossible to know, in view of the general verdict returned. Because of this uncertainty, the judgment must be reversed and the case remanded. Stromberg v. California, 283 U.S. 359, 367—368 51 S.Ct. 532, 535, 75 L.Ed. 1117; Williams v. North Carolina, 317 U.S. 287, 291—292, 63 S.Ct. 207, 209—210, 87 L.Ed. 279; see Yates v. United States, 354 U.S. 298, 311—312, 77 S.Ct. 1064, 1073, 1 L.Ed.2d 1356; Cramer v. United States, 325 U.S. 1, 36, n. 45, 65 S.Ct. 918, 935, 940, 89 L.Ed. 1441.

          Since respondent may seek a new trial, we deem that considerations of effective judicial administration require us to review the evidence in the present record to deter-

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mine whether it could constitutionally support a judgment for respondent. This Court's duty is not limited to the elaboration of constitutional principles; we must also in proper cases review the evidence to make certain that those principles have been constitutionally applied. This is such a case, particularly since the question is one of alleged trespass across 'the line between speech unconditionally guaranteed and speech which may legitimately be regulated.' Speiser v. Randall, 357 U.S. 513, 525, 78 S.Ct. 1332, 1342, 2 L.Ed.2d 1460. In cases where that line must be drawn, the rule is that we 'examine for ourselves the statements in issue and the circumstances under which they were made to see * * * whether they are of a character which the principles of the First Amendment, as adopted by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, protect.' Pennekamp v. Florida, 328 U.S. 331, 335, 66 S.Ct. 1029, 1031, 90 L.Ed. 1295; see also One, Inc., v. Olesen, 355 U.S. 371, 78 S.Ct. 364, 2 L.Ed.2d 352; Sunshine Book Co. v. Summerfield, 355 U.S. 372, 78 S.Ct. 365, 2 L.Ed.2d 352. We must 'make an independent examination of the whole record,' Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U.S. 229, 235, 83 S.Ct. 680, 683, 9 L.Ed.2d 697, so as to assure ourselves that the judgment does not constitute a forbidden intrusion on the field of free expression.26

          Applying these standards, we consider that the proof presented to show actual malice lacks the convincing

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clarity which the constitutional standard demands, and hence that it would not constitutionally sustain the judgment for respondent under the proper rule of law. The case of the individual petitioners requires little discussion. Even assuming that they could constitutionally be found to have authorized the use of their names on the advertisement, there was no evidence whatever that they were aware of any erroneous statements or were in any way reckless in that regard. The judgment against them is thus without constitutional support.

          As to the Times, we similarly conclude that the facts do not support a finding of actual malice. The statement by the Times' Secretary that, apart from the padlocking allegation, he thought the advertisement was 'substantially correct,' affords no constitutional warrant for the Alabama Supreme Court's conclusion that it was a 'cavalier ignoring of the falsity of the advertisement (from which), the jury could not have but been impressed with the bad faith of The Times, and its maliciousness inferable therefrom.' The statement does not indicate malice at the time of the publication; even if the advertisement was not 'substantially correct'—although respondent's own proofs tend to show that it was—that opinion was at least a reasonable one, and there was no evidence to impeach the witness' good faith in holding it. The Times' failure to retract upon respondent's demand, although it later retracted upon the demand of Governor Patterson, is likewise not adequate evidence of malice for constitutional purposes. Whether or not a failure to retract may ever constitute such evidence, there are two reasons why it does not here. First, the letter written by the Times reflected a reasonable doubt on its part as to whether the advertisement could reasonably be taken to refer to respondent at all. Second, it was not a final refusal, since it asked for an explanation on this point—a request that respondent chose to ignore. Nor does the retraction upon the demand of the Governor supply the

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necessary proof. It may be doubted that a failure to retract which is not itself evidence of malice can retroactively become such by virtue of a retraction subs quently made to another party. But in any event that did not happen here, since the explanation given by the Times' Secretary for the distinction drawn between respondent and the Governor was a reasonable one, the good faith of which was not impeached.

          Finally, there is evidence that the Times published the advertisement without checking its accuracy against the news stories in the Times' own files. The mere presence of the stories in the files does not, of course, establish that the Times 'knew' the advertisement was false, since the state of mind required for actual malice would have to be brought home to the persons in the Times' organization having responsibility for the publication of the advertisement. With respect to the failure of those persons to make the check, the record shows that they relied upon their knowledge of the good reputation of many of those whose names were listed as sponsors of the advertisement, and upon the letter from A. Philip Randolph, known to them as a responsible individual, certifying that the use of the names was authorized. There was testimony that the persons handling the advertisement saw nothing in it that would render it unacceptable under the Times' policy of rejecting advertisements containing 'attacks of a personal character';27 their failure to reject it on this ground was not unreasonable. We think

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the evidence against the Times supports at most a finding of negligence in failing to discover the misstatements, and is constitutionally insufficient to show the recklessness that is required for a finding of actual malice. Cf. Charles Parker Co. v. Silver City Crystal Co., 142 Conn. 605, 618, 116 A.2d 440, 446 (1955); Phoenix Newspapers, Inc. v. Choisser, 82 Ariz. 271, 277 278, 312 P.2d 150, 154—155 (1957).

          We also think the evidence was constitutionally defective in another respect: it was incapable of supporting the jury's finding that the allegedly libelous statements were made 'of and concerning' respondent. Respondent relies on the words of the advertisement and the testimony of six witnesses to establish a connection between it and himself. Thus, in his brief to this Court, he states:

          'The reference to respondent as police commissioner is clear from the ad. In addition, the jury heard the testimony of a newspaper editor * * *; a real estate and insurance man * * *; the sales manager of a men's clothing store * * *; a food equipment man * * *; a service station operator * * *; and the operator of a truck line for whom respondent had formerly worked * * *. Each of these witnesses stated that he associated the statements with respondent * * *.' (Citations to record omitted.)

          There was no reference to respondent in the advertisement, either by name or official position. A number of the allegedly libelous statements—the charges that the dining hall was padlocked and that Dr. King's home was bombed, his person assaulted, and a perjury prosecution instituted against him—did not even concern the police; despite the ingenuity of the arguments which would attach this significance to the word 'They,' it is plain that these statements could not reasonably be read as accusing respondent of personal involvement in the acts

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in question. The statements upon which respondent principally relies as referring to him are the two allegations that did concern the police or police functions: that 'truckloads of police * * * ringed the Alabama State College Campus' after the demonstration on the State Capitol steps, and that Dr. King had been 'arrested * * * seven times.' These statements were false only in that the police had been 'deployed near' the campus but had not actually 'ringed' it and had not gone there in connection with the State Capitol demonstration, and in that Dr. King had been arrested only four times. The ruling that these discrepancies between what was true and what was asserted were sufficient to injure respondent's reputation may itself raise constitutional problems, but we need not consider them here. Although the statements may be taken as referring to the police, they did not on their face make even an oblique reference to respondent as an individual. Support for the asserted reference must, therefore, be sought in the testimony of respondent's witnesses. But none of them suggested any basis for the belief that respondent himself was attacked in the advertisement beyond the bare fact that he was in overall charge of the Police Department and thus bore official responsibility for police conduct; to the extent that some of the witnesses thought respondent to have been charged with ordering or approving the conduct or otherwise being personally involved in it, they based this notion not on any statements in the advertisement, and not on any evidence that he had in fact been so involved, but solely on the unsupported assumption that, because of his official position, he must have been.28 This reliance on the bare

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fact of respondent's official position29 was made explicit by the Supreme Court of Alabama. That court, in holding that the trial court 'did not err in overruling the demurrer (of the Times) in the aspect that the libelous

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matter was not of and concerning the (plaintiff,)' based its ruling on the proposition that:

          'We think it common knowledge that the average person knows that municipal agents, such as police and firemen, and others, are under the control and direction of the city governing body, and more particularly under the direction and control of a single commissioner. In measuring the performance or deficiencies of such groups, praise or criticism is usually attached to the official in complete control of the body.' 273 Ala., at 674—675, 144 So.2d, at 39.

          This proposition has disquieting implications for criticism of governmental conduct. For good reason, 'no court of last resort in this country has ever held, or even suggested, that prosecutions for libel on government have any place in the American system of jurisprudence.' City of Chicago v. Tribune Co., 307 Ill. 595, 601, 139 N.E.

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86, 88, 28 A.L.R. 1368 (1923). The present proposition would sidestep this obstacle by transmuting criticism of government, however impersonal it may seem on its face, into personal criticism, and hence potential libel, of the officials of whom the government is composed. There is no legal alchemy by which a State may thus create the cause of action that would otherwise be denied for a publication which, as respondent himself said of the advertisement, 'reflects not only on me but on the other Commissioners and the community.' Raising as it does the possibility that a good-faith critic of government will be penalized for his criticism, the proposition relied on by the Alabama courts strikes at the very center of the constitutionally protected area of free expression.30 We hold that such a proposition may not constitutionally be utilized to establish that an otherwise impersonal attack on governmental operations was a libel of an official responsible for those operations. Since it was relied on exclusively here, and there was no other evidence to connect the statements with respondent, the evidence was constitutionally insufficient to support a finding that the statements referred to respondent.

          The judgment of the Supreme Court of Alabama is reversed and the case is remanded to that court for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion.

          Reversed and remanded.

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           Mr. Justice BLACK, with whom Mr. Justice DOUGLAS joins (concurring).

          I concur in reversing this half-million-dollar judgment against the New York Times Company and the four individual defendants. In reversing the Court holds that 'the Constitution delimits a State's power to award damages for libel in actions brought by public officials against critics of their official conduct.' Ante, p. 283. I base my vote to reverse on the belief that the First and Fourteenth Amendments not merely 'delimit' a State's power to award damages to 'public officials against critics of their official conduct' but completely prohibit a State from exercising such a power. The Court goes on to hold that a State can subject such critics to damages if 'actual malice' can be proved against them. 'Malice,' even as defined by the Court, is an elusive, abstract concept, hard to prove and hard to disprove. The requirement that malice be proved provides at best an evanescent protection for the right critically to discuss public affairs and certainly does not measure up to the sturdy safeguard embodied in the First Amendment. Unlike the Court, therefore, I vote to reverse exclusively on the ground that the Times and the individual defendants had an absolute, unconditional constitutional right to publish in the Times advertisement their criticisms of the Montgomery agencies and officials. I do not base my vote to reverse on any failure to prove that these individual defendants signed the advertisement or that their criticism of the Police Department was aimed at the plaintiff Sullivan, who was then the Montgomery City Commissioner having supervision of the City's police; for present purposes I assume these things were proved. Nor is my reason for reversal the size of the half-million-dollar judgment, large as it is. If Alabama has constitutional power to use its civil libel law to impose damages on the press for criticizing the way public officials perform or fail

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to perform their duties, I know of no provision in the Federal Constitution which either expressly or impliedly bars the State from fixing the amount of damages.

          The half-million-dollar verdict does give dramatic proof, however, that state libel laws threaten the very existence of an American press virile enough to publish unpopular views on public affairs and bold enough to criticize the conduct of public officials. The factual background of this case emphasizes the imminence and enormity of that threat. One of the acute and highly emotional issues in this country arises out of efforts of many people, even including some public officials, to continue state-commanded segregation of races in the public schools and other public places, despite our several holdings that such a state practice is forbidden by the Fourteenth Amendment. Montgomery is one of the localities in which widespread hostility to desegregation has been manifested. This hostility has sometimes extended itself to persons who favor desegregation, particularly to so-called 'outside agitators,' a term which can be made to fit papers like the Times, which is published in New York. The scarcity of testimony to show that Commissioner Sullivan suffered any actual damages at all suggests that these feelings of hostility had at least as much to do with rendition of this half-million-dollar verdict as did an appraisal of damages. Viewed realistically, this record lends support to an inference that instead of being damaged Commissioner Sullivan's political, social, and financial prestige has likely been enhanced by the Times' publication. Moreover, a second half-million-dollar libel verdict against the Times based on the same advertisement has already been awarded to another Commissioner. There a jury again gave the full amount claimed. There is no reason to believe that there are not more such huge verdicts lurking just around the corner for the Times or any other newspaper or broadcaster which

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might dare to criticize public officials. In fact, briefs before us show that in Alabama there are now pending eleven libel suits by local and state officials against the Times seeking $5,600,000, and five such suits against the Columbia Broadcasting System seeking $1,700,000. Moreover, this technique for harassing and punishing a free press—now that it has been shown to be possible is by no means limited to cases with racial overtones; it can be used in other fields where public feelings may make local as well as out-of-state news-papers easy prey for libel verdict seekers.

          In my opinion the Federal Constitution has dealt with this deadly danger to the press in the only way possible without leaving the free press open to destruction—by granting the press an absolute immunity for criticism of the way public officials do their public duty. Compare Barr v. Matteo, 360 U.S. 564, 79 S.Ct. 1335, 3 L.Ed.2d 1434. Stopgap measures like those the Court adopts are in my judgment not enough. This record certainly does not indicate that any different verdict would have been rendered here whatever the Court had charged the jury about 'malice,' 'truth,' 'good motives,' 'justifiable ends,' or any other legal formulas which in theory would protect the press. Nor does the record indicate that any of these legalistic words would have caused the courts below to set aside or to reduce the half-million-dollar verdict in any amount.

          I agree with the Court that the Fourteenth Amendment made the First applicable to the States.1 This means to me that since the adoption of the Fourteenth Amendment a State has no more power than the Federal Government to use a civil libel law or any other law to impose damages for merely discussing public affairs and criticizing public officials. The power of the United

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States to do that is, in my judgment, precisely nil. Such was the general view held when the First Amendment was adopted and ever since.2 Congress never has sought to challenge this viewpoint by passing any civil libel law. It did pass the Sedition Act in 1798,3 which made it a crime—'seditious libel'—to criticize federal officials or the Federal Government. As the Court's opinion correctly points out, however, ante, pp. 273—276, that Act came to an ignominious end and by common consent has generally been treated as having been a wholly unjustificable and much to be regretted violation of the First Amendment. Since the First Amendment is now made applicable to the States by the Fourteenth, it no more permits the States to impose damages for libel than it does the Federal Government.

          We would, I think, more faithfully interpret the First Amendment by holding that at the very least it leaves the people and the press free to criticize officials and discuss public affairs with impunity. This Nation of our elects many of its important officials; so do the States, the municipalities, the counties, and even many precincts. These officials are responsible to the people for the way they perform their duties. While our Court has held that some kinds of speech and writings, such as 'obscenity,' Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498, and 'fighting words,' Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1061, are not expression within the protection of the First Amendment,4 freedom to discus public affairs and public officials

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is unquestionably, as the Court today holds, the kind of speech the First Amendment was primarily designed to keep within the area of free discussion. To punish the exercise of this right to discuss public affairs or to penalize it through libel judgments is to abridge or shut off discussion of the very kind most needed. This Nation, I suspect, can live in peace without libel suits based on public discussions of public affairs and public officials. But I doubt that a country can live in freedom where its people can be made to suffer physically or financially for criticizing their government, its actions, or its officials. 'For a representative democracy ceases to exist the moment that the public functionaries are by any means absolved from their responsibility to their constituents; and this happens whenever the constituent can be restrained in any manner from speaking, writing, or publishing his opinions upon any public measure, or upon the conduct of those who may advise or execute it.'5 An unconditional right to say what one pleases about public affairs is what I consider to be the minimum guarantee of the First Amendment.6

          I regret that the Court has stopped short of this holding indispensable to preserve our free press from destruction.

           Mr. Justice GOLDBERG, with whom Mr. Justice DOUGLAS joins (concurring in the result).

          The Court today announces a constitutional standard which prohibits 'a public official from recovering damages for a defamatory falsehood relating to his official conduct unless he proves that the statement was made with

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'ACTUAL MALICE'—THAT IS, WITH KNOWLEDGe that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.' Ante, at pp. 279-280. The Court thus rules that the Constitution gives citizens and newspapers a 'conditional privilege' immunizing nonmalicious misstatements of fact regarding the official conduct of a government officer. The impressive array of history1 and precedent marshaled by the Court, however, confirms my belief that the Constitution affords greater protection than that provided by the Court's standard to citizen and press in exercising the right of public criticism.

          In my view, the First and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution afford to the citizen and to the press an absolute, unconditional privilege to criticize official conduct despite the harm which may flow from excesses and abuses. The prized American right 'to speak one's mind,' cf. Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 270, 62 S.Ct. 190, 197, 86 L.Ed. 192, about public officials and affairs needs 'breathing space to survive,' N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 433, 83 S.Ct. 328, 338, 9 L.Ed.2d 405. The right should not depend upon a probing by the jury of the motivation2 of the citizen or press. The theory

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of our Constitution is that every citizen may speak his mind and every newspaper express ts view on matters of public concern and may not be barred from speaking or publishing because those in control of government think that what is said or written is unwise, unfair, false, or malicious. In a democratic society, one who assumes to act for the citizens in an executive, legislative, or judicial capacity must expect that his official acts will be commented upon and criticized. Such criticism cannot, in my opinion, be muzzled or deterred by the courts at the instance of public officials under the label of libel.

          It has been recognized that 'prosecutions for libel on government have (no) place in the American system of jurisprudence.' City of Chicago v. Tribune Co., 307 Ill. 595, 601, 139 N.E. 86, 88, 28 A.L.R. 1368. I fully agree. Government, however, is not an abstraction; it is made up of individuals—of governors responsible to the governed. In a democratic society where men are free by ballots to remove those in power, any statement critical of governmental action is necessarily 'of and concerning' the governors and any statement critical of the governors' official conduct is necessarily 'of and concerning' the government. If the rule that libel on government has no place in our Constitution is to have real meaning, then libel on the official conduct of the governors likewise can have no place in our Constitution.

          We must recognize that we are writing upon a clean slate.3 As the Court notes, although there have been

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'statements of this Court to the effect that the Constitution does not protect libelous publications * * * (n)one of the cases sustained the use of libel laws to impose sanctions upon expression critical of the official conduct of public officials.' Ante, at p. 268. We should be particularly careful, therefore, adequately to protect the liberties which are embodied in the First and Fourteenth Amendments. It may be urged that deliberately and maliciously false statements have no conceivable value as free speech. That argument, however, is not responsive to the real issue presented by this case, which is whether that freedom of speech which all agree is constitutionally protected can be effectively safeguarded by a rule allowing the imposition of liability upon a jury's evaluation of the speaker's state of mind. If individual citizens may be held liable in damages for strong words, which a jury finds false and maliciously motivated, there can be little doubt that public debate and advocacy will be constrained. And if newspapers, publishing advertisments dealing with public issues, thereby risk liability, there can also be little doubt that the ability of minority groups to secure publication of their views on public affairs and to seek support for their causes will be greatly diminished. Cf. Farmers Educational & Coop. Union v. WDAY, Inc., 360 U.S. 525, 530, 79 S.Ct. 1302, 1305, 3 L.Ed.2d 1407. The opinion of the Court conclusively demonstrates the chilling effect of the Alabama libel laws on First Amendment freedoms

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in the area of race relations. The American Colonists were not willing, nor should we be, to take the risk that '(m)en who injure and oppress the people under their administration (and) provoke them to cry out and complain' will also be empowered to 'make that very complaint the oundation for new oppressions and prosecutions.' The Trial of John Peter Zenger, 17 Howell's St. Tr. 675, 721—722 (1735) (argument of counsel to the jury). To impose liability for critical, albeit erroneous or even malicious, comments on official conduct would effectively resurrect 'the obsolete doctrine that the governed must not criticize their governors.' Cf. Sweeney v. Patterson, 76 U.S.App.D.C. 23, 24, 128 F.2d 457, 458.

          Our national experience teaches that repressions breed hate and 'that hate menaces stable government.' Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 375, 47 S.Ct. 641, 648, 71 L.Ed. 1095 (Brandeis, J., concurring). We should be ever mindful of the wise counsel of Chief Justice Hughes:

          '(I)mperative is the need to preserve inviolate the constitutional rights of free speech, free press and free assembly in order to maintain the opportunity for free political discussion, to the end that government may be responsive to the will of the people and that changes, if desired, may be obtained by peaceful means. Therein lies the security of the Republic, the very foundation of constitutional government.' De Jonge v. Oregon, 299 U.S. 353, 365, 57 S.Ct. 255, 260, 81 L.Ed. 278.

          This is not to say that the Constitution protects defamatory statements directed against the private conduct of a public official or private citizen. Freedom of press and of speech insures that government will respond to the will of the people and that changes may be obtained by peaceful means. Purely private defendant has little to do with the political ends of a self-governing society. The imposition of liability for private defamation does not

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abridge the freedom of public speech or any other freedom protected by the First Amendment.4 This, of course, cannot be said 'where public officials are concerned or where public matters are involved. * * * (O)ne main function of the First Amendment is to ensure ample opportunity for the people to determine and resolve public issues. Where public matters are involved, the doubts should be resolved in favor of freedom of expression rather than against it.' Douglas, The Right of the People (1958), p. 41.

          In many jurisdictions, legislators, judges and executive officers are clothed with absolute immunity against liability for defamatory words uttered in the discharge of their public duties. See, e.g., Barr v. Matteo, 360 U.S. 564, 79 S.Ct. 1335, 3 L. d.2d 1434; City of Chicago v. Tribune Co., 307 Ill., at 610, 139 N.E., at 91. Judge Learned Hand ably summarized the policies underlying the rule:

          'It does indeed go without saying that an official, who is in fact guilty of using his powers to vent his spleen upon others, or for any other personal motive not connected with the public good, should not escape liability for the injuries he may so cause; and, if it were possible in practice to confine such complaints to the guilty, it would be monstrous to deny recovery. The justification for doing so is that it is impossible to know whether the claim is well founded until the

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          case has been tried, and that to submit all officials, the innocent as well as the guilty, to the burden of a trial and to the inevitable danger of its outcome, would dampen the ardor of all but the most resolute, or the most irresponsible, in the unflinching discharge of their duties. Again and again the public interest calls for action which may turn out to be founded on a mistake, in the face of which an official may later find himself hard put to it to satisfy a jury of his good faith. There must indeed be means of punishing public officers who have been truant to their duties; but that is quite another matter from exposing such as have been honestly mistaken to suit by anyone who has suffered from their errors. As is so often the case, the answer must be found in a balance between the evils inevitable in either alternative. In this instance it has been thought in the end better to leave unredressed the wrongs done by dishonest officers than to subject those who try to do their duty to the constant dread of retaliation. * * *

          'The decisions have, indeed, always imposed as a limitation upon the immunity that the official's act must have been within the scope of his powers; and it can be argued that official powers, since they exist only for the public good, never cover occasions where the public good is not their aim, and hence that to exercise a power dishonestly is necessarily to overstep its bounds. A moment's reflection shows, however, that that cannot be the meaning of the limitation without defeating the whole doctrine. What is meant by saying that the officer must be acting within his power cannot be more than that the occasion must be such as would have justified the act, if he had been using his power for any of the purposes on whose account it was vested in him. * * *' Gregoire v. Biddle, 2 Cir., 177 F.2d 579, 581.

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          If the government official should be immune from libel actions so that his ardor to serve the public will not be dampened and 'fearless, vigorous, and effective administration of policies of government' not be inhibited, Barr v. Matteo, supra, 360 U.S. at 571, 79 S.Ct. at 1339, 3 L.Ed.2d 1434, then the citizen and the press should likewise be immune from libel actions for their criticism of official conduct. Their ardor as citizens will thus not be dampened and they will be free 'to applaud or to criticize the way public employees do their jobs, from the least to the most important.'5 If liability can attach to political criticism because it damages the reputation of a public official as a public official, then no critical citizen can safely utter anything but faint praise about the government or its officials. The vigorous criticism by press and citizen of the conduct of the government of the day by the officials of the day will soon yield to silence if officials in control of government agencies, instead of answering criticisms, can resort to friendly juries to forestall criticism of their official conduct.6

          The conclusion that the Constitution affords the citizen and the press an absolute privilege for criticism of official conduct does not leave the public official without defenses against unsubstantiated opinions or deliberate misstatements. 'Under our system of government, counterargument and education are the weapons available to expose these matters, not abridgment * * * of free speech * * *.' Wood v. Georgia, 370 U.S. 375, 389, 82 S.Ct. 1364, 1372, 8 L.Ed.2d 569.

          The public

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official certainly has equal if not greater access than most private citizens to media of communication. In any event, despite the possibility that some excesses and abuses may go unremedied, we must recognize that 'the people of this nation have ordained in the light of history, that, in spite of the probability of excesses and abuses, (certain) liberties are, in the long view, essential to enlightened opinion and right conduct on the part of the citizens of a democracy.' Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U.S. 296, 310, 60 S.Ct. 900, 906, 84 L.Ed. 1213. As Mr. Justice Brandeis correctly observed, 'sunlight is the most powerful of all disinfectants.'7

          For these reasons, I strongly believe that the Constitution accords citizens and press an unconditional freedom to criticize official conduct. It necessarily follows that in a case such as this, where all agree that the allegedly defamatory statements related to official conduct, the judgments for libel cannot constitutionally be sustained.

1. A copy of the advertisement is printed in the Appendix.

2. Respondent did not consider the charge of expelling the students to be applicable to him, since 'that responsibility rests with the State Department of Education.'

3. Approximately 394 copies of the edition of the Times containing the advertisement were circulated in Alabama. Of these, about 35 copies were distributed in Montgomery County. The total circulation of the Times for that day was approximately 650,000 copies.

4. Since we sustain the contentions of all the petitioners under the First Amendment's guarantees of freedom of speech and of the press as applied to the States by the Fourteenth Amendment, we do not decide the questions presented by the other claims of violation of the Fourteenth Amendment. The individual petitioners contend that the judgment against them offends the Due Process Clause because there was no evidence to show that they had published or authorized the publication of the alleged libel, and that the Due Process and Equal Protection Clauses were violated by racial segregation and racial bias in the courtroom. The Times contends that the assumption of jurisdiction over its corporate person by the Alabama courts overreaches the territorial limits of the Due Process Clause. The latter claim is foreclosed from our review by the ruling of the Alabama courts that the Times entered a general appearance in the action and thus waived its jurisdictional objection; we cannot say that this ruling lacks 'fair or substantial support' in prior Alabama decisions. See Thompson v. Wilson, 224 Ala. 299, 140 So. 439 (1932); compare N.A.A.C.P. v. Alabama, 357 U.S. 449, 454—458, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488.

5. See American Law Institute, Restatement of Torts, § 593, Comment b (1938).

6. Konigsberg v. State Bar of California, 366 U.S. 36, 49, and n. 10, 81 S.Ct. 997, 6 L.Ed.2d 105; Times Film Corp. v. City of Chicago, 365 U.S. 43, 48, 81 S.Ct. 391, 5 L.Ed.2d 403; Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 486—487, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498; Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U.S. 250, 266, 72 S.Ct. 725, 96 L.Ed. 919; Pennekamp v. Florida, 328 U.S. 331, 348—349, 66 S.Ct. 1029, 90 L.Ed. 1295; Chaplinsky v. New Hamphire, 315 U.S. 568, 572, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1031; Near v. Minnesota, 283 U.S. 697, 715, 51 S.Ct. 625, 75 L.Ed. 1357.

7. Herndon v. Lowry, 301 U.S. 242, 57 S.Ct. 732, 81 L.Ed. 1066.

8. Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 62 S.Ct. 190, 86 L.Ed. 192; Pennekamp v. Florida, 328 U.S. 331, 66 S.Ct. 1029, 90 L.Ed. 1295.

9. De Jonge v. Oregon, 299 U.S. 353, 57 S.Ct. 255, 81 L.Ed. 278.

10. Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U.S. 229, 83 S.Ct. 680, 9 L.Ed.2d 697.

11. Roth v. United States, 354, U.S. 476, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498.

12. N.A.A.C.P. v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 83 S.Ct. 328, 9 L.Ed.2d 405.

13. See also Mill, On Liberty (Oxford: Blackwell, 1947), at 47:

'* * * (T)o argue sophistically, to suppress facts or arguments, to misstate the elements of the case, or misrepresent the opposite opinion * * * all this, even to the most aggravated degree, is so continually done in perfect good faith, by persons who are not considered, and in many other respects may not deserve to be considered, ignorant or incompetent, that it is rarely possible, on adequate grounds, conscientiously to stamp the misrepresentation as morally culpable; and still less could law presume to interfere with this kind of controversial misconduct.'

14. The climate in which public officials operate, especially during a political campaign, has been described by one commentator in the following terms: 'Charges of gross incompetence, disregard of the public interest, communist sympathies, and the like usually have filled the air; and hints of bribery, embezzlement, and other criminal conduct are not infrequent.' Noel, Defamation of Public Officers and Candidates, 49 Col.L.Rev. 875 (1949).

For a similar description written 60 years earlier, see Chase, Criticism of Public Officers and Candidates for Office, 23 Am.L.Rev. 346 (1889).

15. The Report on the Virginia Resolutions further stated:

'(I)t is manifestly impossible to punish the intent to bring those who administer the government into disrepute or contempt, without striking at the right of freely discussing public characters and measures; * * * which, again, is equivalent to a protection of those who administer the government, if they should at any time deserve the contempt or hatred of the people, against being exposed to it, by free animadversions on their characters and conduct. Nor can there be a doubt * * * that a government thus intrenched in penal statutes against the just and natural effects of a culpable administration, will easily evade the responsibility which is essential to a faithful discharge of its duty.

'Let it be recollected, lastly, that the right of electing the members of the government constitutes more particularly the essence of a free and responsible government. The value and efficacy of this right depends on the knowledge of the comparative merits and demerits of the candidates for public trust, and on the equal freedom, consequently, of examining and discussing these merits and demerits of the candidates respectively.' 4 Elliot's Debates, supra, p. 575.

16. The Act expired by its terms in 1801.

17. Cf. Farmers Educational and Cooperative Union of America v. WDAY, 360 U.S. 525, 535, 79 S.Ct. 1302, 3 L.Ed.2d 1407.

18. The Times states that four other libel suits based on the advertisement have been filed against it by others who have served as Montgomery City Commissioners and by the Governor of Alabama; that another $500,000 verdict has been awarded in the only one of these cases that has yet gone to trial; and that the damages sought in the other three total $2,000,000.

19. Even a false statement may be deemed to make a valuable contribution to public debate, since it brings about 'the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.' Mill, On Liberty (Oxford: Blackwell, 1947), at 15; see also ilton, Areopagitica, in Prose Works (Yale, 1959), Vol. II, at 561.

20. E.g., Ponder v. Cobb, 257 N.C. 281, 299, 126 S.E.2d 67, 80 (1962); Lawrence v. Fox, 357 Mich, 134, 146, 97 N.W.2d 719, 725 (1959); Stice v. Beacon Newspaper Corp., 185 Kan. 61, 65—67, 340 P.2d 396, 400—401, 76 A.L.R.2d 687 (1959); Bailey v. Charleston Mail Assn., 126 W.Va. 292, 307, 27 S.E.2d 837, 844, 150 A.L.R. 348 (1943); Salinger v. Cowles, 195 Iowa 873, 889, 191 N.W. 167, 174 (1922); Snively v. Record Publishing Co., 185 Cal. 565, 571—576, 198 P. 1 (1921); McLean v. Merriman, 42 S.D. 394, 175 N.W. 878 (1920). Applying the same rule to candidates for public office, see, e.g., Phoenix Newspapers v. Choisser, 82 Ariz. 271, 276—277, 312 P.2d 150, 154 (1957); Friedell v. Blakely Printing Co., 163 Minn. 226, 230, 203 N.W. 974, 975 (1925). And see Chagnon v. Union-Leader Corp., 103 N.H. 426, 438, 174 A.2d 825, 833 (1961), cert. denied, 369 U.S. 830, 82 S.Ct. 846, 7 L.Ed.2d 795.

The consensus of scholarly opinion apparently favors the rule that is here adopted. E.g., 1 Harper and James, Torts, § 5.26, at 449—450 (1956); Noel, Defamation of Public Officers and Candidates, 49 Col.L.Rev. 875, 891—895, 897, 903 (1949); Hallen, Fair Comment, 8 Tex.L.Rev. 41, 61 (1929); Smith, Charges Against Candidates, 18 Mich.L.Rev. 1, 115 (1919); Chase, Criticism of Public Officers and Candidates for Office, 23 Am.L.Rev. 346, 367 371 (1889); Cooley, Constitutional Limitations (7th ed., Lane, 1903), at 604, 616—628. But see, e.g., American Law Institute, Restatement of Torts, § 598, Comment a (1938) (reversing the position taken in Tentative Draft 13, § 1041(2) (1936)); Veeder, Freedom of Public Discussion, 23 Harv.L.Rev. 413, 419 (1910).

21. The privilege immunizing honest misstatements of fact is often referred to as a 'conditional' privilege to distinguish it from the 'absolute' privilege recognized in judicial, legislative, administrative and executive proceedings. See, e.g., Prosser, Torts (2d ed., 1955), § 95.

22. See 1 Harper and James, Torts, § 5.23, at 429—430 (1956). Prosser, Torts (2d ed., 1955), at 612—613; American Law Institute, Restatement of Torts (1938), § 591.

23. We have no occasion here to determine how far down into the lower ranks of government employees the 'public official' designation would extend for purposes of this rule, or otherwise to specify categories of persons who would or would not be included. Cf. Barr v. Matteo, 360 U.S. 564, 573—575, 79 S.Ct. 1335, 1340—1341, 3 L.Ed.2d 1434. Nor need we here determine the boundaries of the 'official conduct' concept. It is enough for the present case that respondent's position as an elected city commissioner clearly made him a public official, and that the allegations in the advertisement concerned what was allegedly his official conduct as Commissioner in charge of the Police Department. As to the statements alleging the assaulting of Dr. King and the bombing of his home, it is immaterial that they might not be considered to involve respondent's official conduct if he himself had been accused of perpetrating the assault and the bombing. Respondent does not claim that the statements charged him personally with these acts; his contention is that the advertisement connects him with them only in his official capacity as the Commissioner supervising the police, on the theory that the police might be equated with the 'They' who did the bombing and assaulting. Thus, if these allegations can be read as referring to respondent at all, they must be read as describing his performance of his official duties.

24. Johnson Publishing Co. v. Davis, 271 Ala. 474, 487, 124 So.2d 441, 450 (1960). Thus, the trial judge here instructed the jury that 'mere negligence or carelessness is not evidence of actual malice or malice in fact, and does not justify an award of exemplary or punitive damages in an action for libel.'

The court refused, however, to give the following instruction which had been requested by the Times:

'I charge you * * * that punitive damages, as the name indicates, are designed to punish the defendant, the New York Times Company, a corporation, and the other defendants in this case, * * * and I further charge you that such punitive damages may be awarded only in the event that you, the jury, are convinced by a fair preponderance of the evidence that the defendant * * * was motivated by personal illwill, that is actual intent to do the plaintiff harm, or that the defendant * * * was guilty of gross negligence and recklessness and not of just ordinary negligence or carelessness in publishing the matter complained of so as to indicate a wanton disregard of plaintiff's rights.'

The trial court's error in failing to require any finding of actual malice for an award of general damages makes it unnecessary for us to consider the sufficiency under the federal standard of the instructions regarding actual malice that were given as to punitive damages.

25. Accord, Coleman v. MacLennan, supra, 78 Kan., at 741, 98 P., at 292; Gough v. Tribune-Journal Co., 75 Idaho 502, 510, 275 P.2d 663, 668 (1954).

26. The Seventh Amendment does not, as respondent contends, preclude such an examination by this Court. That Amendment, providing that 'no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise reexamined in any Court of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law,' is applicable to state cases coming here. Chicago, B. & Q.R. Co. v. Chicago, 166 U.S. 226, 242—243, 17 S.Ct. 581, 587, 41 L.Ed. 979; cf. The Justices v. Murray, 9 Wall. 274, 19 L.Ed. 658. But its ban on re-examination of facts does not preclude us from determining whether governing rules of federal law have been properly applied to the facts. '(T)his Court will review the finding of facts by a State court * * * where a conclusion of law as to a Federal right and a finding of fact are so intermingled as to make it necessary, in order to pass upon the Federal question, to analyze the facts.' Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U.S. 380, 385—386, 47 S.Ct. 655, 656—657, 71 L.Ed. 1108. See also Haynes v. Washington, 373 U.S. 503, 515—516, 83 S.Ct. 1336, 1344, 10 L.Ed.2d 513.

27. The Times has set forth in a booklet its 'Advertising Acceptability Standards.' Listed among the classes of advertising that the newspaper does not accept are advertisements that are 'fraudulent or deceptive,' that are 'ambiguous in wording and * * * may mislead,' and that contain 'attacks of a personal character.' In replying to respondent's interrogatories before the trial, the Secretary of the Times stated that 'as the advertisement made no attacks of a personal character upon any individual and otherwise met the advertising acceptability standards promulgated,' it had been approved for publication.

28. Respondent's own testimony was that 'as Commissioner of Public Affairs it is part of my duty to supervise the Police Department and I certainly feel life it (a statement) is associated with me when it describes police activities.' He thought that 'by virtue of being Police Commissioner and Commissioner of Public Affairs,' he was charged with 'any activity on the part of the Police Department.' 'When it describes police action, certainly I feel it reflects on me as an individual.' He added that 'It is my feeling that it reflects not only on me but on the other Commissioners and the community.'

Grove C. Hall testified that to him the third paragraph of the advertisement called to mind 'the City government—the Commissioners,' and that 'now that you ask it I would naturally think a little more about the police Commissioner because his responsibility is exclusively with the constabulary.' It was 'the phrase about starvation' that led to the association; 'the other didn't hit me with any particular force.'

Arnold D. Blackwell testified that the third paragraph was associated in his mind with 'the Police Commissioner and the police force. The people on the police force.' If he had believed the statement about the padlocking of the dining hall, he would have thought 'that the people on our police force or the heads of our police force were acting without their jurisdiction and would not be competent for the position.' 'I would assume that the Commissioner had ordered the police force to do that and therefore it would be his responsibility.'

Harry W. Kaminsky associated the statement about 'truckloads of police' with respondent 'because he is the Police Commissioner.' He thought that the reference to arrests in the sixth paragraph 'implicates the Police Department, I think, or the authorities that would do that—arrest folks for speeding and loitering and such as that.' Asked whether he would associate with respondent a newspaper report that the police had 'beat somebody up or assaulted them on the streets of Montgomery,' he replied: 'I still say he is the Police Commissioner and those men are working directly under him and therefore I would hink that he would have something to do with it.' In general, he said, 'I look at Mr. Sullivan when I see the Police Department.'

H. M. Price, Sr., testified that he associated the first sentence of the third paragraph with respondent because: 'I would just automatically consider that the Police Commissioner in Mortgomery

----------

would have to put his approval on those kind of things as an individual.'

William M. Parker, Jr., testified that he associated the statements in the two paragraphs with 'the Commissioners of the City of Montgomery,' and since respondent 'was the Police Commissioner,' he 'thought of him first.' He told the examining counsel: 'I think if you were the Police Commissioner I would have thought it was speaking of you.'

Horace W. White, respondent's former employer, testified that the statement about 'truck-loads of police' made him think of respondent 'as being the head of the Police Department.' Asked whether he read the statement as charging respondent himself with ringing the campus or having shotguns and tear-gas, he replied: 'Well, I thought of his department being charged with it, yes, sir. He is the head of the Police Department as I understand it.' He further said that the reason he would have been unwilling to re-employ respondent if he had believed the advertisement was 'the fact that he allowed the Police Department to do the things that the paper say he did.'

29. Compare Ponder v. Cobb, 257 N.C. 281, 126 S.E.2d 67 (1962).

30. Insofar as the proposition means only that the statements about police conduct libeled respondent by implicitly criticizing his ability to run the Police Department, recovery is also precluded in this case by the doctrine of fair comment. See American Law Institute, Restatement of Torts (1938), § 607. Since the Fourteenth Amendment requires recognition of the conditional privilege for honest misstatements of fact, it follows that a defense of fair comment must be afforded for honest expression of opinion based upon privileged, as well as true, statements of fact. Bot defenses are of course defeasible if the public official proves actual malice, as was not done here.

1. See cases collected in Speiser v. Randall, 357 U.S. 513, 530, 78 S.Ct. 1332, 1344, 2 L.Ed.2d 1460 (concurring opinion).

2. See, e.g., 1 Tucker, Blackstone's Commentaries (1803), 297 299 (editor's appendix). St. George Tucker, a distinguished Virginia jurist, took part in the Annapolis Convention of 1786, sat on both state and federal courts, and was widely known for his writings on judicial and constitutional subjects.

3. Act of July 14, 1798, 1 Stat. 596.

4. But see Smith v. California, 361 U.S. 147, 155, 80 S.Ct. 215, 219, 4 L.Ed.2d 205 (concurring opinion); Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 508, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1321, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (dissenting opinion).

5. 1 Tucker, Blackstone's Commentaries (1803), 297 (editor's appendix; cf. Brant, Seditious Libel: Myth and Reality, 39 N.Y.U.L.Rev. 1.

6. Cf. Meiklejohn, Free Speech and Its Relation to Self-Government (1948).

1. I fully agree with the Court that the attack upon the validity of the Sedition Act of 1798, 1 Stat. 596, 'has carried the day in the court of history,' ante, at p. 276, and that the Act would today be declared unconstitutional. It should be pointed out, however, that the Sedition Act proscribed writings which were 'false, scandalous and malicious.' (Emphasis added.) For prosecutions under the Sedition Act charging malice, see e.g., Trial of Matthew Lyon (1798), in Wharton, State Trials of the United States (1849), p. 333; Trial of Thomas Cooper (1800), in id., at 659; Trial of Anthony Haswell (1800) in id., at 684; Trial of James Thompson Callender (1800), in id., at 688.

2. The requirement of proving actual mallice or reckless disregard may, in the mind of the jury, add little to the requirement of proving falsity, a requirement which the Court recognizes not to be an adequate safeguard. The thought suggested by Mr. Justice Jackson in United States v. Ballard, 322 U.S. 78, 92—93, 64 S.Ct. 882, 889, 88 L.Ed. 1148, is relevant here: '(A)s a matter of either practice or philosophy I do not see how we can separate an issue as to what is believed from considerations as to what is believable. The most convincing proof that one believes his statements is to show that they have been true in his experience. Likewise, that one knowingly falsified is best proved by showing that what he said happened never did happen.' See note 4, infra.

3. It was not until Gitlow v. New York, 268 U.S. 652, 45 S.Ct. 625, 69 L.Ed. 1138, decided in 1925, that it was intimated that the freedom of speech guaranteed by the First Amendment was applicable to the States by reason of the Fourteenth Amendment. Other intimations followed. See Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 47 S.Ct. 641, 71 L.Ed. 1095; Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U.S. 380, 47 S.Ct. 655, 71 L.Ed. 1108. In 1931 Chief Justice Hughes speaking for the Court in Stromberg v. California, 283 U.S. 359, 368, 51 S.Ct. 532, 535, 75 L.Ed. 1117, declared: 'It has been determined that the conception of liberty under the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment embraces the right of free speech.' Thus we deal with a constitutional principle enunciated less than four decades ago, and consider for the first time the application of that principle to issues arising in libel cases brought by state officials.

4. In most cases, as in the case at bar, there will be little difficulty in distinguishing defamatory speech relating to private conduct from that relating to official conduct. I recognize, of course, that there will be a gray area. The difficulties of applying a public-private standard are, however, certainly, of a different genre from those attending the differentiation between a malicious and nonmalicious state of mind. If the constitutional standard is to be shaped by a concept of malice, the speaker takes the risk not only that the jury will inaccurately determine his state of mind but also that the injury will fail properly to apply the constitutional standard set by the elusive concept of malice. See note 2, supra.

5. Mr. Justice Black concurring in Barr v. Matteo, 360 U.S. 564, 577, 79 S.Ct. 1335, 1342, 3 L.Ed.2d 1434, observed that: 'The effective functioning of a free government like ours depends largely on the force of an informed public opinion. This calls for the widest possible understanding of the quality of government service rendered by all elective or appointed public officials or employees. Such an informed unders anding depends, of course, on the freedom people have to applaud or to criticize the way public employees do their jobs, from the least to the most important.'

6. See notes 2, 4, supra.

7. See Freund, the Supreme Court of the United States (1949), p. 61.

Page 305-Continued

(APPENDIX.)

15.13 Dombrowski v. Pfister 15.13 Dombrowski v. Pfister

DOMBROWSKI et al. v. PFISTER, CHAIRMAN, JOINT LEGISLATIVE COMMITTEE ON UNAMERICAN ACTIVITIES OF THE LOUISIANA LEGISLATURE, et al.

No. 52.

Argued January 25, 1965.

Decided April 26, 1965.

*481Leon Hubert and Arthur Kinoy argued the cause for appellants. With them on the brief were William M. Kunstler, Michael J. Kunstler and A. P. Tureaud.

John E. Jackson, Jr., Assistant Attorney General of Louisiana, and Jack N. Rogers argued the cause for ap-pellees. With them on the brief for appellees Pfister et al. were Jack P. F. Gremillion, Attorney General of Louisiana, and Dorothy D. Wolbrette, Assistant Attorney General. With Mr. Rogers on the brief for appellee Joint Legislative Committee on Un-American Activities was Robert H. Reiter. Mr. Reiter also filed a brief for ap-pellee Davis. Appellee Jim Garrison filed a brief pro se.

Briefs of amici curiae, urging reversal, were filed by Jack Greenberg, Derrick A. Bell, Jr., and Jay H. Topkis for the NAACP Legal Defense & Educational Fund; by Louis Lusky and Melvin L. Wulj for the American Civil Liberties Union et al.; and by Ernest Goodman and David Rein for the National Lawyers Guild.

Mr. Justice Brennan

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Appellants filed a complaint in the District Court for the Eastern District of Louisiana, invoking the Civil *482Rights Act, Rev. Stat. § 1979,42 U. S. C. § 1983 (1958 ed.), and seeking declaratory relief and an injunction restraining appellees — the Governor, police and law enforcement officers, and the Chairman of the Legislative Joint Committee on Un-American Activities in Louisiana — from prosecuting or threatening to prosecute appellants for alleged violations of the Louisiana Subversive Activities and Communist Control Law and the Communist Propaganda Control Law.1 Appellant Southern Conference Educational Fund, Inc. (SCEF), is active in fostering civil rights for Negroes in Louisiana and other States of the South. Appellant Dombrowski is its Executive Director; intervenor Smith, its Treasurer; and intervenor Waltzer, Smith’s law partner and an attorney for SCEF. The complaint alleges that the statutes on their face violate the First and Fourteenth Amendment guarantees securing freedom of expression, because overbreadth makes them susceptible of sweeping and improper application abridging those rights. Supported by affidavits and a written offer of proof, the complaint further alleges that the threats to enforce the statutes against appellants are not made with any expectation of securing valid convictions, but rather are part of a plan to employ arrests, seizures, and threats of prosecution under color of the statutes to harass appellants and discourage them and their supporters from asserting and attempting to vindicate the constitutional rights of Negro citizens of Louisiana.

A three-judge district court, convened pursuant to 28 U. S. C. § 2281 (1958 ed.), dismissed the complaint, one judge dissenting, “for failure to state a claim upon which relief can be granted.” 227 F. Supp. 556, 564. The ma*483jority were of the view that the allegations, conceded to raise serious constitutional issues, did not present a case of threatened irreparable injury to federal rights which warranted cutting short the normal adjudication of constitutional defenses in the course of state criminal prosecutions; rather, the majority held, this was an appropriate case for abstention, since a possible narrowing construction by the state courts would avoid unnecessary decision of constitutional questions. In accordance with this view the court withdrew its initial determination that the statutes were not unconstitutional on their face. 227 F. Supp., at 562-563. Postponement of consideration of the federal issues until state prosecution and possible review here of adverse state determination was thought to be especially appropriate since the statutes concerned the State’s “basic right of self-preservation” and the threatened prosecution was “imbued . . . with an aura of sedition or treason or acts designed to substitute a different form of local government by other than lawful means...” ; federal court interference with enforcement of such statutes “truly . . . would be a massive emasculation of the last vestige of the dignity of sovereignty.” 227 F. Supp., at 559, 560. We noted probable jurisdiction in order to resolve a seeming conflict with our later decision in Baggett v. Bullitt, 377 U. S. 360, and to settle important questions concerning federal injunctions against state criminal prosecutions threatening constitutionally protected expression. 377 U. S. 976. We reverse.

HH

In Ex parte Young, 209 U. S. 123, the fountainhead of federal injunctions against state prosecutions, the Court characterized the power and its proper exercise in broad terms: it would be justified where state officers . . threaten and are about to commence proceedings, either of a civil or criminal nature, to enforce against par-. *484ties affected an unconstitutional act, violating the Federal Constitution . . . 209 U. S., at 156. Since that decision, however, considerations of federalism have tempered the exercise of equitable power,2 for the Court has recognized that federal interference with a State’s good-faith administration of its criminal laws is peculiarly inconsistent with our federal framework. It is generally to be assumed that state courts and prosecutors will observe constitutional limitations as expounded by this Court, and that the mere possibility of erroneous initial application *485of constitutional standards will usually not amount to the irreparable injury necessary to justify a disruption of orderly state proceedings. In Douglas v. City of Jeannette, 319 U. S. 157, for example, the Court upheld a district court’s refusal to enjoin application of a city ordinance to religious solicitation, even though the ordinance was that very day held unconstitutional as so applied on review of a criminal conviction under it. Mur-dock v. Pennsylvania, 319 U. S. 105. Since injunctive relief looks to the future, and it was not alleged that Pennsylvania courts and prosecutors would fail to respect the Murdock ruling, the Court found nothing to justify an injunction. And in a variety of other contexts the Court has found no special circumstances to warrant cutting short the normal adjudication of constitutional defenses in the course of a criminal prosecution.3 In such cases it does not appear that the plaintiffs “have been threatened with any injury other than that incidental to every criminal proceeding brought lawfully and in good faith, or that a federal court of equity by withdrawing the determination of guilt from the state courts could rightly afford petitioners any protection which they could not secure by prompt trial and appeal pursued to this Court.” Douglas v. City of Jeannette, supra, at 164.

But the allegations in this complaint depict a situation in which defense of the State’s criminal prosecution will not assure adequate vindication of constitutional rights. *486They suggest that a substantial loss or impairment of freedoms of expression will occur if appellants must await the state court’s disposition and ultimate review in this Court of any adverse determination. These allegations, if true, clearly show irreparable injury.

A criminal prosecution under a statute regulating expression usually involves imponderables and contingencies that themselves may inhibit the full exercise of First Amendment freedoms. See, e. g., Smith v. California, 361 U. S. 147. When the statutes also have an over-broad sweep, as is here alleged, the hazard of loss or substantial impairment of those precious rights may be critical. For in such cases, the statutes lend themselves too readily to denial of those rights. The assumption that defense of a criminal prosecution will generally assure ample vindication of constitutional rights is unfounded in such cases. See Baggett v. Bullitt, supra, at 379. For “[t]he threat of sanctions may deter . . . almost as potently as the actual application of sanctions. . . .” NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433. Because of the sensitive nature of constitutionally protected expression, we have not required that all of those subject to overbroad regulations risk prosecution to test their rights. For free expression — of transcendent value to all society, and not merely to those exercising their rights — might be the loser. Cf. Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 74-75. For example, we have consistently allowed attacks on overly broad statutes with no requirement that the person making the attack demonstrate that his own conduct could not be regulated by a statute drawn with the requisite narrow specificity. Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 97-98; NAACP v. Button, supra, at 432-433; cf. Aptheker v. Secretary of State, 378 U. S. 500, 515-517; United States v. Raines, 362 U. S. 17, 21-22. We have fashioned this exception to the usual rules governing standing, see United States v. Raines, supra, because of *487the . . danger of tolerating, in the area of First Amendment freedoms, the existence of a penal statute susceptible of sweeping and improper application.” NAACP v. Button, supra, at 433. If the rule were otherwise, the contours of regulation would have to be hammered out case by case — and tested only by those hardy enough to' risk criminal prosecution to determine the proper scope of regulation. Cf. Ex parte Young, supra, at 147-148. By permitting determination of the invalidity of these statutes without regard to the permissibility of some regulation on the facts of particular cases, we have, in effect, avoided making vindication of freedom of expression await the outcome of protracted litigation. Moreover, we have not thought that the improbability of successful prosecution makes the case different. The chilling effect upon the exercise of First Amendment rights may derive from the fact of the prosecution, unaffected by the prospects of its success or failure. See NAACP v. Button, supra, at 432-433; cf. Baggett v. Bullitt, supra, at 378-379; Bush v. Orleans School Board, 194 F. Supp. 182, 185, affirmed sub nom. Tugwell v. Bush, 367 U. S. 907; Gremillion v. United States, 368 U. S. 11.

Appellants’ allegations and offers of proof outline the chilling effect on free expression of prosecutions initiated and threatened in this case. Early in October 1963 appellant Dombrowski and intervenors Smith and Waltzer were arrested by Louisiana state and local police and charged with violations of the two statutes. Their offices were raided and their files and records seized.4 Later in October a state judge quashed the *488arrest warrants as not based on probable cause, and discharged the appellants. Subsequently, the court granted a motion to suppress the seized evidence on the ground that the raid was illegal. Louisiana officials continued, however, to threaten prosecution of the appellants, who thereupon filed this action in November. Shortly after the three-judge court was convened, a grand jury was summoned in the Parish of Orleans to hear evidence looking to indictments of the individual appellants. On appellants’ application Judge Wisdom issued a temporary restraining order against prosecutions pending hearing and decision of the case in the District Court. Following a hearing the District Court, over Judge Wisdom’s dissent, dissolved the temporary restraining order and, at the same time, handed down an order dismissing the complaint. Thereafter the grand jury returned indictments under the Subversive Activities and Communist Control Law against the individual appellants.5

These events, together with repeated announcements by appellees that the appellant organization is a subversive or Communist-front organization, whose members must register or be prosecuted under the Louisiana statutes, have, appellants allege, frightened off potential members and contributors. Cf. Anti-Fascist Committee v. McGrath, 341 U. S. 123. Seizures of documents and records have paralyzed operations and threatened exposure of the *489identity of adherents to a locally unpopular cause. See NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U. S. 449. Although the particular seizure has been quashed in the state courts, the continuing threat of prosecution portends further arrests and seizures, some of which may be upheld and all of which will cause the organization inconvenience or worse. In Freedman v. Maryland, ante, p. 51, we struck down a motion picture censorship statute solely because the regulatory scheme did not sufficiently assure exhibitors a prompt judicial resolution of First Amendment claims. The interest in immediate resolution of such claims is surely no less where criminal prosecutions are threatened under statutes allegedly overbroad and seriously inhibiting the exercise of protected freedoms. Not only does the complaint allege far more than an “injury other than that incidental to every criminal proceeding brought lawfully and in good faith,” but appellants allege threats to enforce statutory provisions other than those under which indictments have been brought. Since there is no immediate prospect of a final state adjudication as to those other sections — if, indeed, there is any certainty that prosecution of the pending indictments will resolve all constitutional issues presented — a series of state criminal prosecutions will not provide satisfactory resolution of constitutional issues.

It follows that the District Court erred in holding that the complaint fails to allege sufficient irreparable injury to justify equitable relief.

The District Court also erred in holding that it should abstain pending authoritative interpretation of the statutes in the state courts, which might hold that they did not apply to SCEF, or that they were unconstitutional as applied to SCEF. We hold the abstention doctrine is inappropriate for cases such as the present one where, unlike Douglas v. City of Jeannette, statutes are justifi*490ably attacked on their face as abridging free expression, or as applied for the purpose of discouraging protected activities.

First, appellants have attacked the good faith of the appellees in enforcing the statutes, claiming that they have invoked, and threaten to continue to invoke, criminal process without any hope of ultimate success, but only to discourage appellants’ civil rights activities. If these allegations state a claim under the Civil Rights Act, 42 U. S. C. § 1983, as we believe they do, see Beauregard v. Wingard, 230 F. Supp. 167 (D. C. S. D. Calif. 1964); Bargainer v. Michal, 233 F. Supp. 270 (D. C. N. D. Ohio 1964), the interpretation ultimately put on the statutes by the state courts is irrelevant. For an interpretation rendering the statute inapplicable to SCEF would merely mean that appellants might ultimately prevail in the state courts. It would not alter the impropriety of appellees’ invoking the statute in bad faith to impose continuing harassment in order to discourage appellants’ activities, as appellees allegedly are doing and plan to continue to do.

Second, appellants have challenged the statutes as overly broad and vague regulations of expression. We have already seen that where, as here, prosecutions are actually threatened, this challenge, if not clearly frivolous, will establish the threat of irreparable injury required by traditional doctrines of equity. We believe that in this case the same reasons preclude denial of equitable relief pending an acceptable narrowing construction. In considering whether injunctive relief should be granted, a federal district court should consider a statute as of the time its jurisdiction is invoked, rather than some hypothetical future date. The area of proscribed conduct will be adequately defined and the deterrent effect of the statute contained within constitutional limits only by authoritative constructions sufficiently illuminating the *491contours of an otherwise vague prohibition. As we observed in Baggett v. Bullitt, supra, at 378, this cannot be satisfactorily done through a series of criminal prosecutions, dealing as they inevitably must with only a narrow portion of the prohibition at any one time, and not contributing materially to articulation of the statutory standard. We believe that those affected by a statute are entitled to be free of the burdens of defending prosecutions, however expeditious, aimed at hammering out the structure of the statute piecemeal, with no likelihood of obviating similar uncertainty for others. Here, no readily apparent construction suggests itself as a vehicle for rehabilitating the statutes in a single prosecution, and appellants are entitled to an injunction. The State must, if it is to invoke the statutes after injunctive relief has been sought, assume the burden of obtaining a permissible narrow construction in a noncriminal proceeding6 before it may seek modification of the injunction to permit future prosecutions.7

On this view of the “vagueness” doctrine, it is readily apparent that abstention serves no legitimate purpose where a statute regulating speech is properly attacked on its face, and where, as here, the conduct charged in the indictments is not within the reach of an acceptable limiting construction readily to be anticipated as the result of a single criminal prosecution and is not the sort of “hard*492core” conduct that would obviously be prohibited under any construction. In these circumstances, to abstain is to subject those affected to the uncertainties and vagaries of criminal prosecution, whereas the reasons for the vagueness doctrine in the area of expression demand no less than freedom from prosecution prior to a construction adequate to save the statute. In such cases, abstention is at war with the purposes of the vagueness doctrine, which demands appropriate federal relief regardless of the prospects for expeditious determination of state criminal prosecutions. Although we hold today that appellants’ allegations of threats to prosecute, if upheld, dictate appropriate equitable relief without awaiting declaratory judgments in the state courts, the settled rule of our cases is that district courts retain power to modify injunctions in light of changed circumstances. System Federation v. Wright, 364 U. S. 642; Chrysler Corp. v. United States, 316 U. S. 556; United States v. Swift & Co., 286 U. S. 106. Our view of the proper operation of the vagueness doctrine does not preclude district courts from modifying injunctions to permit prosecutions in light of subsequent state court interpretation clarifying the application of a statute to particular conduct.

We conclude that on the allegations of the complaint, if true, abstention and the denial of injunctive relief may well result in the denial of any effective safeguards against the loss of protected freedoms of expression, and cannot be justified.

II.

Each of the individual appellants was indicted for violating § 364 (7) 8 of the Subversive Activities and Communist Control Law by failing to register as a member of *493a Communist-front organization. Smith and Waltzer were indicted for failing to register as members “of a Communist front organization known as the National Lawyers Guild, which said organization has been cited by committees and sub-committees of the United States Congress as a Communist front organization . . . Dombrowski and Smith were indicted for failing to register as members of “a Communist front organization known as the Southern Conference Educational Fund, which said organization is essentially the same as the Southern Conference for Human Welfare, which said Southern Conference for Human Welfare [has] . . . been cited by the committees of the United States Congress as a Communist front organization . . . Dombrowski and Smith were also indicted for violating § 364 (4),9 by acting as Executive Director and Treasurer respectively “of a subversive organization, to wit, the Southern Conference Educational Fund, said organization being essentially the same as the Southern Conference for Human Welfare, which said organization has been cited by committees of the United States Congress as a Communist front organization . . .

The statutory definition of “a subversive organization” in § 359 (5)10 incorporated in the offense created by *494§ 364 (4), is substantially identical to that of the Washington statute which we considered in Baggett v. Bullitt, supra, at 362, 363, n. 1. There the definition was used in a state statute requiring state employees to take an oath as a condition of employment. We held that the definition, as well as the oath based thereon, denied due process because it was unduly vague, uncertain and . broad. Where, as here, protected freedoms of expression and association are similarly involved, we see no controlling distinction in the fact that the definition is used to provide a standard of criminality rather than the contents of a test oath. This overly broad statute also creates a “danger zone” within which protected expression may be inhibited. Cf. Speiser v. Randall, 357 U. S. 513, 526. So long as the statute remains available to the State the threat of prosecutions of protected expression is a real and substantial one. Even the prospect of ultimate failure of such prosecutions by no means dispels their chilling effect on protected expression. A Quantity of Copies of Books v. Kansas, 378 U. S. 205; Bantam Books, Inc. v. Sullivan, 372 U. S. 58; Marcus v. Search Warrant, 367 U. S. 717; Speiser v. Randall, supra. Since § 364 (4) is so intimately bound up with a definition invalid under the reasoning of Baggett v. Bullitt, we hold that it is invalid for the same reasons.

We also find the registration requirement of § 364 (7) invalid. That section creates an offense of failure to register as a member of a Communist-front organization, and, under § 359 (3),11 “the fact that an organization has *495been officially cited or identified by the Attorney General of the United States, the Subversive Activities Control Board of the United States or any committee or subcommittee of the United States Congress as a . . . communist front organization . . . shall be considered presumptive evidence of the factual status of any such organization.” There is no requirement that the organization be so cited only after compliance with the procedural safeguards demanded by Anti-Fascist Committee v. McGrath, supra.12

*496A designation resting on such safeguards is a minimum requirement to insure the rationality of the presumptions of the Louisiana statute and, in its absence, the presumptions cast an impermissible burden upon the appellants to show that the organizations are not Communist fronts. “Where the transcendent value of speech is involved, due process certainly requires . . . that the State bear the burden of persuasion to show that the appellants engaged in criminal speech.” Speiser v. Randall, supra, at 526. It follows that § 364 (7), resting on the invalid presumption, is unconstitutional on its face.13

*497III.

The precise terms and scope of the injunctive relief to which appellants are entitled and the identity of the appellees to be enjoined cannot, of course, be determined until after the District Court conducts the hearing on remand. The record suffices, however, to permit this Court to hold that, without the benefit of limiting construction, the statutory provisions on which the indictments are founded are void on their face; until an acceptable limiting construction is obtained, the provisions cannot be applied to the activities of SCEF, whatever they may be. The brief filed in this Court by appellee Garrison, District Attorney of the Parish of Orleans, the official having immediate responsibility for the indictments, concedes the facts concerning the arrests of the individual appellants, their discharge by the local judge, and the indictments of the individual appellants by the grand jury. In view of our decision on the merits, the District Court on remand need decide only the relief to which appellants may be entitled on the basis of their attacks on other sections of that statute and the Communist Propaganda Control Law, and on their allegations that appellees threaten to enforce both statutes solely to discourage appellants from continuing their civil rights activities. On these issues, abstention will be as inappropriate as on the issues we here decide.

The judgment of the District Court is reversed and the cause is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion. These shall include prompt framing of a decree restraining prosecution of the pending indictments against the individual appellants, ordering immediate return of all papers and documents seized, and prohibiting further acts enforcing the sections of the Subversive Activities and Communist Control Law here found void *498on their face. In addition, appellants are entitled to expeditious determination, without abstention, of the remaining issues raised in the complaint.

It is so ordered.

Mr. Justice Black took no part in the consideration or decision of this case.

Mr. Justice Stewart took no part in the decision of this case.

Mr. Justice Harlan,

whom Mr. Justice Clark joins,

dissenting.

The basic holding in this case marks a significant departure from a wise procedural principle designed to spare our federal system from premature federal judicial interference with state statutes or proceedings challenged on federal constitutional grounds. This decision abolishes the doctrine of federal judicial abstention in all suits attacking state criminal statutes for vagueness on First-Fourteenth Amendment grounds. As one who considers that it is a prime responsibility of this Court to maintain federal-state court relationships in good working order, I cannot subscribe to a holding which displays such insensitivity to the legitimate demands of those relationships under our federal system. I see no such incompatibility between the abstention doctrine and the full vindication of constitutionally protected rights as the Court finds to exist in cases of this kind.

In practical effect the Court’s decision means that a State may no longer carry on prosecutions under statutes challengeable for vagueness on “First Amendment” grounds without the prior approval of the federal courts. For if such a statute can be so questioned (and few, at least colorably, cannot) then a state prosecution, if insti*499tuted after the commencement of a federal action,1 must be halted until the prosecuting authorities obtain in some other state proceeding a narrowing construction, which in turn would presumably be subject to further monitoring by the federal courts before the state prosecution would be allowed to proceed.

For me such a paralyzing of state criminal processes cannot be justified by any of the considerations which the Court’s opinion advances in its support. High as the premium placed on First Amendment rights may be, I do not think that the Federal Constitution prevents a State from testing their availability through the medium of criminal proceedings, subject of course to this Court’s ultimate review.

Underlying the Court’s major premise that criminal enforcement of an overly broad statute affecting rights of speech and association is in itself a deterrent to the free exercise thereof seems to be the unarticulated assumption that state courts will not be as prone as federal courts to vindicate constitutional rights promptly and effectively. Such an assumption should not be indulged in the absence of a showing that such is apt to be so in a given case. No showing of that kind has been made. On the contrary, the Louisiana courts in this very case have already refused to uphold the seizure of appellants’ books. Ante, pp. 487-488. We should not assume that those courts would not be equally diligent in construing the statutes here in question in accordance with the relevant decisions of this Court.2

*500The Court suggests that “a substantial loss or impairment of freedoms of expression will occur if appellants must await the state court’s disposition and ultimate review in this Court of any adverse determination.” Ante, p. 486. But the possibility of such an impairment is not obviated by traveling the federal route approved here. Even in the federal courts the progress of litigation is not always as swift as one would like to see it. It is true, of course, that appellants would have to show in the state case that the conduct charged falls outside the scope of a criminal statute construed within constitutional limits, whereas in this case they need not allege the particular conduct which they deem to be protected. But the argument that these state prosecutions do not afford an appropriate vehicle for testing appellants’ claims respecting freedom of speech and association hardly sits well with the Smith Act cases in which First Amendment claims were at the very core of the federal prosecutions. See Dennis v. United States, 341 U. S. 494; Yates v. United States, 354 U. S. 298; Scales v. United States, 367 U. S. 203.

Baggett v. Bullitt, 377 U. S. 360, in which the Court last Term struck down a Washington state statute virtually identical to this one, should not be dispositive of this case. Baggett was decided in the context of what amounted to an academic loyalty oath, applicable to college professors with respect to some of whom (those not having tenure) there was at least grave doubt whether a state remedy was available to review the constitutionality of their dismissal by reason of refusal to take the required oath. I would not extend the doctrine of that case to thwart the normal processes of state criminal law enforcement.3

*501Had this statute been a federal enactment and had this Court been willing to pass upon its validity in a declaratory judgment or injunction action, I can hardly believe that it would have stricken the statute without first exposing it to the process of narrowing construction in an effort to save as much of it as possible. See, e. g., Dennis v. United States, supra, at 502. Yet here the Court has not only made no effort to give this state statute a narrowing construction, but has also declined to give the Louisiana courts an opportunity to do so with respect to the acts charged in the pending prosecutions against these appellants. See Fox v. Washington, 236 U. S. 273; Poulos v. New Hampshire, 345 U. S. 395. The statute thus pro tanto goes to its doom without either state or federal court interpretation, and despite the room which the statute clearly leaves for a narrowing constitutional construction. See Dennis, Yates, and Scales, supra. This seems to me to be heavy-handed treatment of the first order.

What the Court decides suffers from a further infirmity. Interwoven with the vagueness doctrine is a question of standing. In a criminal prosecution a defendant could not avoid a constitutional application of this statute to his own conduct simply by showing that if applied to others whose conduct was protected it would be unconstitutional.4 To follow that practice in a federal court which *502is asked to enjoin a state criminal prosecution would, however, in effect require that the parties try the criminal case in advance in the federal forum, see Cleary v. Bolger, 371 U. S. 392; Stefanelli v. Minard, 342 U. S. 117, 123-124, a procedure certainly seriously disruptive of the orderly processes of the state proceedings. The Court seems to recognize that persons whose conduct would be included under even the narrowest reading of the statutes — what might be called “hard-core” conduct — could have been constitutionally prosecuted under the statutes invalidated today, without being able to assert a vagueness defense. Ante, n. 7; pp. 491-492. Thus, if persons were conspiring to stage a forcible coup d’etat in a State, they could hardly claim in a criminal trial that a statute such as this was vague as applied to them. For all we know, appellants’ conduct in fact would fall within even the narrowest reading of the Louisiana Subversive Activities and Communist Control Law, but since appellants were able to reach a federal court before the State instituted criminal proceedings against them, they are now immunized with a federal vaccination from state prosecution. To make standing and criminality turn on which party wins the race to the forum of its own choice is to repudiate the “considerations of federalism” (ante, p. 484) to which the Court pays lip service.

While I consider that abstention was called for, I think the District Court erred in dismissing the action. It should have retained jurisdiction for the purpose of affording appellants appropriate relief in the event that the state prosecution did not go forward in a prompt and bona fide manner. See Harrison v. NAACP, 360 U. S. 167.

15.14 Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts 15.14 Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts

CURTIS PUBLISHING CO. v. BUTTS.

No. 37.

Argued February 23, 1967.

Decided June 12, 1967*

*133Mr. Justice Black, joined by Mr. Justice Douglas, concluded that in order to dispose of No. 150 he concurs in the grounds stated by The Chief Justice which are summarized in paragraphs 1 and 2, supra, of The Chief Justice’s conclusions but does not recede from his previously expressed views about the much wider press and speech freedoms of the First and Fourteenth Amendments. P. 170.

Mr. Justice Brennan, joined by Mr. Justice White, concluded that the grounds stated by The Chief Justice which are summarized in paragraphs 1 and 2, supra, of The Chief Justice’s conclusions in No. 150 govern that case. P. 172.

Herbert Wechsler argued the cause for petitioner in No. 37. With him on the brief was Philip H. Strubing. William P. Rogers argued the cause for petitioner in No. 150. With him on the briefs were Leo P. Larkin, Jr., Stanley Godojsky, Arthur Moynihan and /. A. Gooch.

Allen jE. Lockerman and William H. Schroder argued the cause for respondent in No. 37. With them on the brief was Robert S. Sams. Clyde J. Watts argued the cause for respondent in No. 150. With him on the brief was William Andress, Jr.

Howard Ellis, Keith Masters, Don H. Reuben and Lawrence Gunnels filed a brief for the Tribune Company, as amicus curiae, urging reversal in No. 150.

Mr. Justice Harlan

announced the judgments of the Court and delivered an opinion in which Mr. Justice Clark, Mr. Justice Stewart, and Mr. Justice Fortas join.

In New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 279-280, this Court held that “[t]he constitutional guar*134antees [of freedom of speech and press] require ... a federal rule that prohibits a public official from recovering damages for a defamatory falsehood relating to his official conduct unless he proves that the statement was made with 'actual malice’ — that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.” We brought these two cases here, 385 U. S. 811, 385 U. S. 812, to consider the impact of that decision on libel actions instituted by persons who are not public officials, but who are “public figures” and involved in issues in which the public has a justified and important interest. The sweep of the New York Times rule in libel actions brought under state law was a question expressly reserved in that case, 376 U. S., at 283, n. 23, and while that question has been involved in later cases, Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64; Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75; Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, it has not been fully settled.

The matter has, however, been passed on by a considerable number of state and lower federal courts and has produced a sharp division of opinion as to whether the New York Times rule should apply only in actions brought by public officials or whether it has a longer reach. Compare, e. g., Pearson v. Fairbanks Publishing Co., 413 P. 2d 711 (Alaska), with Clark v. Pearson, 248 E. Supp. 188.1 *135The resolution of the uncertainty in this area of libel actions requires, at bottom, some further exploration and clarification of the relationship between libel law and the freedom of speech and press, lest the New York Times rule become a talisman which gives the press constitutionally adequate protection only in a limited field, or, what would be equally unfortunate, one which goes far to immunize the press from having to make just reparation for the infliction of needless injury upon honor and reputation through false publication. These two libel actions, although they arise out of quite different sets of circumstances, provide that opportunity. We think they are best treated together in one opinion.

I.

No. 37, Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, stems from an article published in petitioner’s Saturday Evening Post which accused respondent of conspiring to “fix” a football game between the University of Georgia and the University of Alabama, played in 1962. At the time of the article, Butts was the athletic director of the University of Georgia and had overall responsibility for the administration of its athletic program. Georgia is a state university, but Butts was employed by the Georgia Athletic Association, a private corporation, rather than by the State itself.2 Butts had previously served as head *136football coach of the University and was a well-known and respected figure in coaching ranks. He had maintained an interest in coaching and was negotiating for a position with a professional team at the time of publication.

The article was entitled “The Story of a College Football Fix” and prefaced by a note from the editors stating: “Not since the Chicago White Sox threw the 1919 World Series has there been a sports story as shocking as this one. . . . Before the University of Georgia played the University of Alabama . . . Wally Butts . . . gave [to its coach] . . . Georgia’s plays, defensive patterns, all the significant secrets Georgia’s football team possessed.” The text revealed that one George Burnett, an Atlanta insurance salesman, had accidentally overheard, because of electronic error, a telephone conversation between Butts and the head coach of the University of Alabama, Paul Bryant, which took place approximately one week prior to the game. Burnett was said to have listened while “Butts outlined Georgia’s offensive plays . . . and told . . . how Georgia planned to defend .... Butts mentioned both players and plays by name.” The readers were told that Burnett had made notes of the conversation, and specific examples of the divulged secrets were set out.

The article went on to discuss the game and the players’ reaction to the game, concluding that “[t]he Georgia players, their moves analyzed and forecast like those of rats in a maze, took a frightful physical beating,” and said that the players, and other sideline observers, were aware that Alabama was privy to Georgia’s secrets. It set out the series of events commencing with Burnett’s later presentation of his notes to the Georgia head coach, *137Johnny Griffith, and culminating in Butts’ resignation from the University’s athletic affairs, for health and business reasons. The article’s conclusion made clear its expected impact:

“The chances are that Wally Butts will never help any football team again. . . . The investigation by university and Southeastern Conference officials is continuing; motion pictures of other games are being scrutinized; where it will end no one so far can say. But careers will be ruined, that is sure.”

Butts brought this diversity libel action in the federal courts in Georgia seeking $5,000,000 compensatory and $5,000,000 punitive damages. The complaint was filed, and the trial completed, before this Court handed down its decision in New York Times, and the only defense raised by petitioner Curtis was one of substantial truth. No constitutional defenses were interposed although Curtis’ counsel were aware of the progress of the New York Times case, and although general constitutional defenses had been raised by Curtis in a libel action instituted by the Alabama coach who was a state employee.

Evidence at trial was directed both to the truth of the article and to its preparation. The latter point was put in issue by the claim for punitive damages which required a finding of “malice” under Georgia law. The evidence showed that Burnett had indeed overheard a conversation between Butts and the Alabama coach, but the content of that conversation was hotly disputed. It was Butts’ contention that the conversation had been general football talk and that nothing Burnett had overheard would have been of any particular value to an opposing coach. Expert witnesses supported Butts by analyzing Burnett’s notes and the films of the game itself. The Saturday Evening Post’s version of the game and of the players’ remarks about the game was severely contradicted.

*138The evidence on the preparation of the article, on which we shall focus in more detail later, cast serious doubt on the adequacy of the investigation underlying the article. It was Butts’ contention that the magazine had departed greatly from the standards of good investigation and reporting and that this was especially reprehensible, amounting to reckless and wanton conduct, in light of the devastating nature of the article’s assertions.

The jury was instructed that in order for the defense of truth to be sustained it was “necessary that the truth be substantially portrayed in those parts of the article which libel the plaintiff.” The “sting of the libel” was said to be “the charge that the plaintiff rigged and fixed the 1962 Georgia-Alabama game by giving Coach Bryant [of Alabama] information which was calculated to or could have affected the outcome of the game.” The jury was also instructed that it could award punitive damages “to deter the wrong-doer from repeating the trespass” in an amount within its sole discretion if it found that actual malice had been proved.3

The jury returned a verdict for $60,000 in general damages and for $3,000,000 in punitive damages. The trial court reduced the total to $460,000 by remittitur. Soon thereafter we handed down our decision in New York Times and Curtis immediately brought it to the attention of the trial court by a motion for new trial. The trial judge rejected Curtis’ motion on two grounds. He *139first held that New York Times was inapplicable because Butts was not a public official. He also held that “there was ample evidence from which a jury could have concluded that there was reckless disregard by defendant of whether the article was false or not.”

Curtis appealed to the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit which affirmed the judgment of the District Court by a two-to-one vote. The majority there did not reach the merits of petitioner’s constitutional claim, holding that Curtis had “clearly waived any right it may have had to challenge the verdict and judgment on any of the constitutional grounds asserted in Times,” 351 F. 2d 702, 713, on the basis of Michel v. Louisiana, 350 U. S. 91. It found Curtis chargeable with knowledge of the constitutional limitations on libel law at the time it filed its pleadings below because of its “interlocking battery of able and distinguished attorneys” some of whom were involved in the New York Times litigation. This holding rendered the compensatory damage decision purely one of state law and no error was found in its application. Turning to the punitive damage award, the majority upheld it as stemming from the “enlightened conscience” of the jury as adjusted by the lawful action of the trial judge. It was in “complete accord” with the trial court’s determination that the evidence justified the finding “that what the Post did was done with reckless disregard of whether the article was false or not.” 351 F. 2d, at 719.

Judge Rives dissented, arguing that the record did not support a finding of knowing waiver of constitutional defenses. He concluded that the New York Times rule was applicable because Butts was involved in activities of great interest to the public. He would have reversed because “the jury might well have understood the district court’s charge to allow recovery on a showing of *140intent to inflict harm or even the culpably negligent infliction of harm, rather than the intent to inflict harm through falsehood . . . 351 F. 2d, at 723.

Rehearing was denied, 351 F. 2d, at 733, and we granted certiorari, as indicated above. For reasons given below, we would affirm.

II.

No. 150, Associated Press v. Walker, arose out of the distribution of a news dispatch giving an eyewitness account of events on the campus of the University of Mississippi on the night of September 30, 1962, when a massive riot erupted because of federal efforts to enforce a court decree ordering the enrollment of a Negro, James Meredith, as a student in the University. The dispatch stated that respondent Walker, who was present on the campus, had taken command of the violent crowd and had personally led a charge against federal marshals sent there to effectuate the court’s decree and to assist in preserving order. It also described Walker as encouraging rioters to use violence and giving them technical advice on combating the effects of tear gas.

Walker was a private citizen at the time of the riot and publication. He had pursued a long and honorable career in the United States Army before resigning to engage in political activity, and had, in fact, been in command of the federal troops during the school segregation confrontation at Little Rock, Arkansas, in 1957. He was acutely interested in the issue of physical federal intervention, and had made a number of strong statements against such action which had received wide publicity. Walker had his own following, the “Friends of Walker," and could fairly be deemed a man of some political prominence.

Walker initiated this libel action in the state courts of Texas, seeking a total of $2,000,000 in compensatory and punitive damages. Associated Press raised both the *141defense of truth and constitutional defenses. At trial both sides attempted to reconstruct the stormy events on the campus of the University of Mississippi. Walker admitted his presence on the campus and conceded that he had spoken to a group of students. He claimed, however, that he had counseled restraint and peaceful protest, and exercised no control whatever over the crowd which had rejected his plea. He denied categorically taking part in any charge against the federal marshals.

There was little evidence relating to the preparation of the news dispatch. It was clear, however, that the author of this dispatch, Van Saveli, was actually present during the events described and had reported them almost immediately to the Associated Press office in Atlanta. A discrepancy was shown between an oral account given the office and a later written dispatch, but it related solely to whether Walker had spoken to the group before or after approaching the marshals. No other showing of improper preparation was attempted, nor was there any evidence of personal prejudice or incompetency on the part of Saveli or the Associated Press.

The jury was instructed that an award of compensatory damages could be made if the dispatch was not substantially true,4 and that punitive damages could be added if the article was actuated by “ill will, bad or evil motive, or that entire want of care which would raise the belief that the act or omission complained of was the result of a conscious indifference to the right or welfare of the person to be affected by it.”

A verdict of $500,000 compensatory damages and $300,000 punitive damages was returned. The trial judge, however, found that there was “no evidence to support the jury’s answers that there was actual malice” *142and refused to enter the punitive award. He concluded that the failure further to investigate the minor discrepancy between the oral and written versions of the incident could not “be construed as that entire want of care which would amount to a conscious indifference to the rights of plaintiff. Negligence, it may have been; malice, it was not. Moreover, the mere fact that AP permitted a young reporter to cover the story of the riot is not evidence of malice.” (Emphasis in original.) The trial judge also noted that this lack of “malice” would require a verdict for the Associated Press if New York Times were applicable. But he rejected its applicability since there were “no compelling reasons of public policy requiring additional defenses to suits for libel. Truth alone should be an adequate defense.”

Both sides appealed and the Texas Court of Civil Appeals affirmed both the award of compensatory damages and the striking of punitive damages. It stated without elaboration that New York Times was inapplicable. As to the punitive damage award, the plea for reinstatement was refused because “[i]n view of all the surrounding circumstances, the rapid and confused occurrence of events on the occasion in question, and in the light of all the evidence, we hold that appellee failed to prove malice . . . .” 393 S. W. 2d 671, 683.

The Supreme Court of Texas denied a writ of error, and we granted certiorari, as already indicated. For reasons given below, we would reverse.

III.

Before we reach the constitutional arguments put forward by the respective petitioners, we must first determine whether Curtis has waived its right to assert such arguments by failing to assert them before trial. As our dispositions of Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, *143and other cases involving constitutional questions indicate,5 the mere failure to interpose such a defense prior to the announcement of a decision which might support it cannot prevent a litigant from later invoking such a ground. Of course it is equally clear that even constitutional objections may be waived by a failure to raise them at a proper time, Michel v. Louisiana, supra, at 99,6 but an effective waiver must, as was said in Johnson v. Zerbst, 304 U. S. 458, 464, be one of a “known right or privilege.”

Butts makes two arguments in support of his contention that Curtis’ failure to raise constitutional defenses amounted to a knowing waiver. The first is that the general state of the law at the time of this trial was such that Curtis should, in the words of the Fifth Circuit majority, have seen “the handwriting on the wall.” 351 F. 2d, at 734. We cannot accept this contention. Although our decision in New York Times did draw upon earlier precedents in state law, e. g., Coleman v. MacLennan, 78 Kan. 711, 98 P. 281, and there were intimations in a prior opinion and the extra-judicial comments of one Justice,7 that some applications of libel law might be in conflict with the guarantees of free speech and press, there was strong precedent indicating that civil libel actions *144were immune from general constitutional scrutiny.8 Given the state of the law prior to our decision in New York Times, we do not think it unreasonable for a lawyer trying a case of this kind, where the plaintiff was not even a public official under state law, to have looked solely to the defenses provided by state libel law. Nor do we think that the previous grant of certiorari in New York Times alone indicates a different conclusion. The questions presented for review there were premised on Sullivan’s status as an elected public official, and elected officials traditionally have been subject to special rules of libel law.9

Butts’ second contention is that whatever defenses might reasonably have been apparent to the average lawyer, some of Curtis’ trial attorneys were involved in the New York Times litigation and thus should have been especially alert to constitutional contentions. This was the argument which swayed the Court of Appeals, but we do not find it convincing.

First, as a general matter, we think it inadvisable to determine whether a “right or privilege” is “known” by relying on information outside the record concerning the special legal knowledge of particular attorneys. Second, even a lawyer fully cognizant of the record and briefs in the New York Times litigation might reasonably have expected the resolution of that case to have no impact *145on this litigation, since the arguments advanced .there depended so heavily on the analogy to seditious libel. We think that it was our eventual resolution of New York Times, rather than its facts and the arguments presented by counsel, which brought out the constitutional question here. We would not hold that Curtis waived a “known right” before it was aware of the New York Times decision. It is agreed that Curtis’ presentation of the constitutional issue after our decision in New York Times was prompt.

Our rejection of Butts’ arguments is supported by factors which point to the justice of that conclusion. See Hormel v. Helvering, 312 U. S. 552, 556-557. Curtis’ constitutional points were raised early enough so that this Court has had the benefit of some ventilation of them by the courts below. The resolution of the merits of Curtis’ contentions by the District Court makes it evident that Butts was not prejudiced by the time at which Curtis raised its argument, for it cannot be asserted that an earlier interposition would have resulted in any different proceedings below.10 Finally the constitutional protection which Butts contends that Curtis has waived safeguards a freedom which is the “matrix, the indispensable condition, of nearly every other form of freedom.” Palko v. Connecticut, 302 U. S. 319, 327. Where the ultimate effect of sustaining a claim of waiver might be an imposition on that valued freedom, we are unwilling to find waiver in circumstances which fall short of being clear and compelling. Cf. New York Times Co. v. Connor, 365 F. 2d 567, 572.

*146IV.

We thus turn to a consideration, on the merits, of the constitutional claims raised by Curtis in Butts and by the Associated Press in Walker. Powerful arguments are brought to bear for the extension of the New York Times rule in both cases. In Butts it is contended that the facts are on all fours with those of Rosenblatt v. Baer, supra, since Butts was charged with the important responsibility of managing the athletic affairs of a state university. It is argued that while the Athletic Association is financially independent from the State and Butts was not technically a state employee, as was Baer, his role in state administration was so significant that this technical distinction from Rosenblatt should be ignored. Even if this factor is to be given some weight, we are told that the public interest in education in general, and in the conduct of the athletic affairs of educational institutions in particular, justifies constitutional protection of discussion of persons involved in it equivalent to the protection afforded discussion of public officials.

A similar argument is raised in the Walker case where the important public interest in being informed about the events and personalities involved in the Mississippi riot is pressed. In that case we are also urged to recognize that Walker’s claims to the protection of libel laws are limited since he thrust himself into the “vortex” of the controversy.

We are urged by the respondents, Butts and Walker, to recognize society’s “pervasive and strong interest in preventing and redressing attacks upon reputation,” and the “important social values which underlie the law of defamation.” Rosenblatt v. Baer, supra, at 86. It is pointed out that the publicity in these instances was not directed at employees of government and that these cases cannot be analogized to seditious libel prosecutions. Id., at 92 (Stewart, J., concurring). We are *147told that “[t]he rule that permits satisfaction of the deep-seated need for vindication of honor is not a mere historic relic, but promotes the law’s civilizing function of providing an acceptable substitute for violence in the settlement of disputes,” Afro-American Publishing Co. v. Jaffe, 125 U. S. App. D. C. 70, 81, 366 F. 2d 649, 660, and that:

“Newspapers, magazines, and broadcasting companies are businesses conducted for profit and often make very large ones. Like other enterprises that inflict damage in the course of performing a service highly useful to the public . . . they must pay the freight; and injured persons should not be relegated [to remedies which] make collection of their claims difficult or impossible unless strong policy considerations demand.” Buckley v. New York Post Corp., 373 F. 2d 175, 182.

We fully recognize the force of these competing considerations and the fact that an accommodation between them is necessary not only in these cases, but in all libel actions arising from a publication concerning public issues. In Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 388, we held that “[t]he guarantees for speech and press are not the preserve of political expression or comment upon public affairs . . .” and affirmed that freedom of discussion “must embrace all issues about which information is needed or appropriate to enable the members of society to cope with the exigencies of their period.” Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 102. This carries out the intent of the Founders who felt that a free press would advance “truth, science, morality, and arts in general” as well as responsible government. Letter to the Inhabitants of Quebec, 1 Journals of the Continental Cong. 108. From the point of view of deciding whether a constitutional interest of free speech and press is properly involved in the resolution of a libel question a rational *148distinction “cannot be founded on the assumption that criticism of private citizens who seek to lead in the determination of . . . policy will be less important to the public interest than will criticism of government officials.” Pauling v. Globe-Democrat Publishing Co., 362 F. 2d 188, 196.

On the other hand, to take the rule found appropriate in New York Times to resolve the “tension” between the particular constitutional interest there involved and the interests of personal reputation and press responsibility, Rosenblatt v. Baer, supra, at 86, as being applicable throughout the realm of the broader constitutional interest, would be to attribute to this aspect of New York Times an unintended inexorability at the threshold of this new constitutional development. In Time, Inc. v. Hill, supra, at 390, we counseled against “blind application of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan” and considered “the factors which arise in the particular context.” Here we must undertake a parallel evaluation.11

The modern history of the guarantee of freedom of speech and press mainly has been one of a search for the outer limits of that right. From the fountainhead opinions of Justices Holmes and Brandeis in Schenck, Abrams, and Whitney,12 which considered the problem when the disruptive effects of speech might strip the protection from the speaker, to our recent decision in Adderley v. Florida, 385 U. S. 39, where we found freedom of speech not to include a freedom to trespass, the Court’s primary concern has been to determine the extent of the right and the surrounding safeguards necessary to give it “breathing space.” NAACP v. *149Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433. That concern has perhaps omitted from searching consideration the “real problem” of defining or delimiting the right itself. See Freund, Mr. Justice Black and the Judicial Function, 14 U. C. L. A. L. Rev. 467, 471.

It is significant that the guarantee of freedom of speech and press falls between the religious guarantees and the guarantee of the right to petition for redress of grievances in the text of the First Amendment, the principles of which are carried to the States by the Fourteenth Amendment. It partakes of the nature of both, for it is as much a guarantee to individuals of their personal right to make their thoughts public and put them before the community, see Holt, Of the Liberty of the Press, in Nelson, Freedom of the Press from Hamilton to the Warren Court 18-19, as it is a social necessity required for the “maintenance of our political system and an open society.” Time, Inc. v. Hill, supra, at 389. It is because of the personal nature of this right that we have rejected all manner of prior restraint on publication, Near v. Minnesota, 283 U. S. 697, despite strong arguments that if the material was unprotected the time of suppression was immaterial. Pound, Equitable Relief Against Defamation and Injuries to Personality, 29 Harv. L. Rev. 640. The dissemination of the individual’s opinions on matters of public interest is for us, in the historic words of the Declaration of Independence, an “unalienable right” that “governments are instituted among men to secure.” History shows us that the Founders were not always convinced that unlimited discussion of public issues would be “for the benefit of all of us” 13 but that they firmly adhered to the proposition that the “true liberty of the press” permitted “every man to publish *150his opinion.” Respublica v. Oswald, 1 Dall. 319, 325 (Pa.).

The fact that dissemination of information and opinion on questions of public concern is ordinarily a legitimate, protected and indeed cherished activity does not mean, however, that one may in all respects carry on that activity exempt from sanctions designed to safeguard the legitimate interests of others. A business “is not immune from regulation because it is an agency of the press. The publisher of a newspaper has no special immunity from the application of general laws. He has no special privilege to invade the rights and liberties of others.” Associated Press v. Labor Board, 301 U. S. 103, 132-133. Federal securities regulation,14 mail fraud statutes,15 and common-law actions for deceit and misrepresentation16 are only some examples of our understanding that the right to communicate information of public interest is not “unconditional.” See Note, Freedom of Expression in a Commercial Context, 78 Harv. L. Rev. 1191. However, as our decision in New York Times makes explicit, while protected activity may in some respects be subjected to sanctions, it is not open to all forms of regulation. The guarantees of freedom of speech and press were not designed to prevent “the censorship of the press merely, but any action of the government by means of which it might prevent such free and general discussion of public matters as seems absolutely essential . . . .” 2 Cooley, Constitutional Limitations 886 (8th ed.). Our touchstones are that acceptable *151limitations must neither affect the impartial distribution of news” and ideas, Associated Press v. Labor Board, supra, at 133, nor because of their history or impact constitute a special burden on the press, Grosjean v. American Press Co., Inc., 297 U. S. 233, nor deprive our free society of the stimulating benefit of varied ideas because their purveyors fear physical or economic retribution solely because of what they choose to think and publish.

The history of libel law leaves little doubt that it originated in soil entirely different from that which nurtured these constitutional values. Early libel was primarily a criminal remedy, the function of which was to make punishable any writing which tended to bring into disrepute the state, established religion, or any individual likely to be provoked to a breach of the peace because of the words. Truth was no defense in such actions and while a proof of truth might prevent recovery in a civil action, this limitation is more readily explained as a manifestation of judicial reluctance to enrich an undeserving plaintiff than by the supposition that the defendant was protected by the truth of the publication. The same truthful statement might be the basis of a criminal libel action. See Commonwealth v. Clap, 4 Mass. 163; see generally Yeeder, The History and Theory of the Law of Defamation, 3 Col. L. Rev. 546, 4 Col. L. Rev. 33.

The law of libel has, of course, changed substantially since the early days of the Republic, and this change is “the direct consequence of the friction between it . . . and the highly cherished right of free speech.” State v. Browne, 86 N. J. Super. 217, 228, 206 A. 2d 591, 597. The emphasis has shifted from criminal to civil remedies, from the protection of absolute social values to the safeguarding of valid personal interests. Truth has become an absolute defense in almost all cases,17 and privileges designed to foster free communication are almost uni*152versally recognized.18 But the basic theory of libel has not changed, and words defamatory of another are still placed “in the same class with the use of explosives or the keeping of dangerous animals.” Prosser, The Law of Torts § 108, at 792. Thus some antithesis between freedom of speech and press and libel actions persists, for libel remains premised on the content of speech and limits the freedom of the publisher to express certain sentiments, at least without guaranteeing legal proof of their substantial accuracy.

While the truth of the underlying facts might be said to mark the line between publications Which are of significant social value and those which might be suppressed without serious social harm and thus resolve the antithesis on a neutral ground, we have rejected, in prior cases involving materials and persons commanding justified and important public interest, the argument that a finding of falsity alone should strip protections from the publisher. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra, at 272. We have recognized “the inevitability of some errror in the situation presented in free debate,” Time, Inc. v. Hill, supra, at 406 (opinion of this writer), and that “putting to the pre-existing prejudices of a jury the determination of what is 'true’ may effectively institute a system of censorship.”

Our resolution of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, in the context of the numerous statutes and cases which allow ideologically neutral, and generally applicable regulatory measures to be applied to publication, makes clear, however, that neither the interests of the publisher nor those of society necessarily preclude a damage award *153based on improper conduct which creates a false publication. It is the conduct element, therefore, on which we must principally focus if we are successfully to resolve the antithesis between civil libel actions and the freedom of speech and press. Impositions based on misconduct can be neutral with respect to content of the speech involved, free of historical taint, and adjusted to strike a fair balance between the interests of the community in free circulation of information and those of individuals in seeking recompense for harm done by the circulation of defamatory falsehood.

In New York Times we were adjudicating in an area which lay close to seditious libel, and history dictated extreme caution in imposing liability. The plaintiff in that case was an official whose position in government was such “that the public [had] an independent interest in the qualifications and performance of the person who [held] it.” Rosenblatt v. Baer, supra, at 86. Such officials usually enjoy a privilege against libel actions for their utterances, see, e. g., Barr v. Matteo, 360 U. S. 564, and there were analogous considerations involved in New York Times, supra, at 282. Thus we invoked “the hypothesis that speech can rebut speech, propaganda will answer propaganda, free debate of ideas will result in the wisest governmental policies,” Dennis v. United States, 341 U. S. 494, 503, and limited recovery to those cases where “calculated falsehood” placed the publisher “at odds with the premises of democratic government and with the orderly manner in which economic, social, or political change is to be effected.” Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 75. That is to say, such officials were permitted to recover in libel only when they could prove that the publication involved was deliberately falsified, or published recklessly despite the publisher’s awareness of probable falsity. Investigatory failures alone were held insufficient to satisfy this standard. See New York *154Times, at 286-288, 292; Garrison v. Louisiana, supra, at 73-75, 79.

In the cases we decide today none of the particular considerations involved in New York Times is present. These actions cannot be analogized to prosecutions for seditious libel. Neither plaintiff has any position in government which would permit a recovery by him to be viewed as a vindication of governmental policy. Neither was entitled to a special privilege protecting his utterances against accountability in libel. We are prompted, therefore, to seek guidance from the rules of liability which prevail in our society with respect to compensation of persons injured by the improper performance of a legitimate activity by another. Under these rules, a departure from the kind of care society may expect from a reasonable man performing such activity leaves the actor open to a judicial shifting of loss. In defining these rules, and especially in formulating the standards for determining the degree of care to be expected in the circumstances, courts have consistently given much attention to the importance of defendants’ activities. Prosser, The Law of Torts § 31, at 151. The courts have also, especially in libel cases, investigated the plaintiff’s position to determine whether he has a legitimate call upon the court for protection in light of his prior activities and means of self-defense. See Brewer v. Hearst Publishing Co., 185 F. 2d 846; Flanagan v. Nicholson Publishing Co., 137 La. 588, 68 So. 964. We note that the public interest in the circulation of the materials here involved, and the publisher’s interest in circulating them, is not less than that involved in New York Times. And both Butts and Walker commanded a substantial amount of independent public interest at the time of the publications; both, in our opinion, would have been labeled “public figures” under ordinary tort rules. See Spahn v. Julian Messner, Inc., 18 N. Y. 2d 324, 221 N. E. 2d 543, re*155manded on other grounds, 387 U. S. 239. Butts may have attained that status by position alone and Walker by his purposeful activity amounting to a thrusting of his personality into the “vortex” of an important public controversy, but both commanded sufficient continuing public interest and had sufficient access to the means of counterargument to be able “to expose through discussion the falsehood and fallacies” of the defamatory statements. Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 377 (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

These similarities and differences between libel actions involving persons who are public officials and libel actions involving those circumstanced as were Butts and Walker, viewed in light of the principles of liability which are of general applicability in our society, lead us to the conclusion that libel actions of the present kind cannot be left entirely to state libel laws, unlimited by any overriding constitutional safeguard, but that the rigorous federal requirements of New York Times are not the only appropriate accommodation of the conflicting interests at stake. We consider and would hold that a “public figure” who is not a public official may also recover damages for a defamatory falsehood whose substance makes substantial danger to reputation apparent, on a showing of highly unreasonable conduct constituting an extreme departure from the standards of investigation and reporting ordinarily adhered to by responsible publishers. Cf. Sulzberger, Responsibility and Freedom, in Nelson, Freedom of the Press from Hamilton to the Warren Court 409, 412.

Nothing in this opinion is meant to affect the holdings in New York Times and its progeny, including our recent decision in Time, Inc. v. Hill.19

*156V.

Having set forth the standard by which we believe the constitutionality of the damage awards in these cases must be judged, we turn now, as the Court did in New York Times, to the question whether the evidence and findings below meet that standard. We find the standard satisfied in No. 37, Butts, and not satisfied by either the evidence or the findings in. No. 150, Walker.

The Butts jury was instructed, in considering punitive damages, to assess “the reliability, the nature of the sources of the defendant’s information, its acceptance or rejection of the sources, and its care in checking upon assertions.” These considerations were said to be relevant to a determination whether defendant had proceeded with “wanton and reckless indifference.” In this light we consider that the jury must have decided that the investigation undertaken by the Saturday Evening Post, upon which much evidence and argument was centered,20 was grossly inadequate in the circumstances. The impact of a jury instruction “is not to be ascertained by *157merely considering isolated statements but by taking into view all the instructions given and the tendencies of the proof in the case to which they could possibly be applied.” Seaboard Air Line R. Co. v. Padgett, 236 U. S. 668, 672.

This jury finding was found to be supported by the evidence by the trial judge and the majority in the Fifth Circuit. Given the extended history of the case, the amount of the evidence pointing to serious deficiencies in investigatory procedure, and the severe harm inflicted on Butts, we would not feel justified in ordering a retrial of the compensatory damage issue, either on the theory that this aspect of the case was submitted to the jury only under the issue of “truth,”21 or on the very slim possibility that the jury finding regarding punitive damages might have been based on Curtis’ attitude toward Butts rather than on Curtis’ conduct.

The evidence showed that the Butts story was in no sense “hot news” and the editors of the magazine recognized the need for a thorough investigation of the serious charges. Elementary precautions were, nevertheless, ignored. The Saturday Evening Post knew that Burnett had been placed on probation in connection with bad check charges, but proceeded to publish the story on the basis of his affidavit without substantial independent support. Burnett’s notes were not even viewed by any of the magazine’s personnel prior to publication. John Carmichael who was supposed to have been with Burnett when the phone call was overheard was not interviewed. No attempt was made to screen the films of the game to see if Burnett’s information was accurate, and no attempt was made to find out whether Alabama had adjusted its plans after the alleged divulgence of information.

*158The Post writer assigned to the story was not a football expert and no attempt was made to check the story with someone knowledgeable in the sport. At trial such experts indicated that the information in the Burnett notes was either such that it would be evident to any opposing coach from game films regularly exchanged or valueless. Those assisting the Post writer in his investigation were already deeply involved in another libel action, based on a different article, brought against Curtis Publishing Co. by the Alabama coach and unlikely to be the source of a complete and objective investigation. The Saturday Evening Post was anxious to change its image by instituting a policy of “sophisticated muckraking,” and the pressure to produce a successful expose might have induced a stretching of standards. In short, the evidence is ample to support a finding of highly unreasonable conduct constituting an extreme departure from the standards of investigation and reporting ordinarily adhered to by responsible publishers.

The situation in Walker is considerably different. There the trial court found the evidence insufficient to support more than a finding of even ordinary negligence and the Court of Civil Appeals supported the trial court’s view of the evidence. Ordinarily we would, under the governing constitutional standard, reverse the decision below on the concurrent findings rule. Graver Tank & Mfg. Co. v. Linde Air Products Co., 336 U. S. 271, 275. But, as in New York Times, we think it better to face for ourselves the question whether there is sufficient evidence to support the finding we would require.

In contrast to the Butts article, the dispatch which concerns us in Walker was news which required immediate dissemination. The Associated Press received the information from a correspondent who was present at the scene of the events and gave every indication of being trustworthy and competent. His dispatches in this in*159stance, with one minor exception, were internally consistent and would not have seemed unreasonable to one familiar’ with General Walker’s prior publicized statements on the underlying controversy.22 Considering the necessity for rapid dissemination, nothing in this series of events gives the slightest hint of a severe departure from accepted publishing standards. We therefore conclude that General Walker should not be entitled to damages from the Associated Press.

VI.

We come finally to Curtis’ contention that whether or not it can be required to compensate Butts for any injury it may have caused him, it cannot be subjected to an assessment for punitive damages limited only by the “enlightened conscience” of the community. Curtis recognizes that the Constitution presents no general bar to the assessment of punitive damages in a civil case, Day v. Woodworth, 13 How. 363, 370-371, but contends that an unlimited punitive award against a magazine publisher constitutes an effective prior restraint by giving the jury the power to destroy the publisher’s business. We cannot accept this reasoning. Publishers like Curtis engage in a wide variety of activities which may *160lead to tort suits where punitive damages are a possibility. To exempt a publisher, because of the nature of his calling, from an imposition generally exacted from other members of the community, would be to extend a protection not required by the constitutional guarantee. Associated Press v. Labor Board, 301 U. S. 103. We think the constitutional guarantee of freedom of speech and press is adequately served by judicial control over excessive jury verdicts, manifested in this instance by the trial court’s remittitur, and by the general rule that a verdict based on jury prejudice cannot be sustained even when punitive damages are warranted. See, e. g., Minneapolis, St. P. & S. S. M. R. Co. v. Moquin, 283 U. S. 520, 521.

Despite this conclusion, it might be argued that an award of punitive damages cannot be justified constitutionally by the same degree of misconduct required to support a compensatory award. The usual rule in libel actions, and other state-created tort actions, is that a higher degree of fault is necessary to sustain a punitive imposition than a compensatory award. And it might be asserted that the need to compensate the injured plaintiff is not relevant to the issue of punitive damages in libel since an award of general damages compensates for any possible pecuniary and intangible harm. Thus the argument would be that the strong speech and press interest in publishing material on public issues, which we have recognized as parallel to the interest in publishing political criticism present in New York Times, must be served by a limitation on punitive damages restricting them to cases of “actual malice” as defined in New York Times and Garrison v. Louisiana, supra. We find the force of any such argument quite insufficient to overcome the compelling contrary considerations, and there is, moreover, nothing in any of our past cases which suggests that compensatory and punitive damages are subject to different constitutional standards of misconduct.

*161Where a publisher’s departure from standards of press responsibility is severe enough to strip from him the constitutional protection our decision acknowledges, we think it entirely proper for the State to act not only for the protection of the individual injured but to safeguard all those similarly situated against like abuse. Moreover, punitive damages require a finding of “ill will” under general libel law and it is not unjust that a publisher be forced to pay for the “venting of his spleen” in a manner which does not meet even the minimum standards required for constitutional protection. Especially in those cases where circumstances outside the publication itself reduce its impact sufficiently to make a compensatory imposition an inordinately light burden, punitive damages serve a wholly legitimate purpose in the protection of individual reputation. We would hold, therefore, that misconduct sufficient to justify the award of compensatory damages also justifies the imposition of a punitive award, subject of course to the limitation that such award is not demonstrated to be founded on the mere prejudice of the jury. As we have already noted (supra, pp. 156-158) the case on punitive damages was put to the jury under instructions which satisfied the constitutional test we would apply in cases of this kind, and the evidence amply supported the jury’s findings.23

The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit in No. 37 is affirmed. The judgment of the *162Texas Court of Civil Appeals in No. 150 is reversed and the case is remanded to that court for further proceedings not inconsistent with the opinions that have been filed herein by The Chief Justice, Mr. Justice Black, and Mr. Justice Brennan.

It is so ordered.

Mr. Chief Justice Warren,

concurring in the result.

While I agree with the results announced by Mr. Justice Harlan in both of these cases, I find myself in disagreement with his stated reasons for reaching those results. Our difference stems from his departure from the teaching of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), to which we both subscribed only three years ago.

I.

In the New York Times case, we held that a State cannot, consistently with the First and Fourteenth Amendments, award damages to a “public official” for a defamatory falsehood relating to his official conduct unless the verdict is based on proof of “actual malice”— that is, proof that the defamatory statement was made “with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.” 376 U. S., at 280. The present cases involve not “public officials,” but “public figures” whose views and actions with respect to public issues and events are often of as much concern to the citizen as the attitudes and behavior of “public officials” with respect to the same issues and events.

All of us agree that the basic considerations underlying the First Amendment require that some limitations be placed on the application of state libel laws to “public figures” as well as “public officials.” Similarly, the seven members of the Court who deem it necessary to pass upon the question agree that the respondents in these cases are “public figures” for First Amendment purposes. *163Having reached this point, however, Mr. Justice Harlan’s opinion departs from the standard of New York Times and substitutes in cases involving “public figures” a standard that is based on “highly unreasonable conduct” and is phrased in terms of “extreme departure from the standards of investigation and reporting ordinarily adhered to by responsible publishers” (ante, p. 155). I cannot believe that a standard which is based on such an unusual and uncertain formulation could either guide a jury of laymen or afford the protection for speech and debate that is fundamental to our society and guaranteed by the First Amendment.

To me, differentiation between “public figures” and “public officials” and adoption of separate standards of proof for each have no basis in law, logic, or First Amendment policy. Increasingly in this country, the distinctions between governmental and private sectors are blurred. Since the depression of the 1930’s and World War II there has been a rapid fusion of economic and political power, a merging of science, industry, and government, and a high degree of interaction between the intellectual, governmental, and business worlds. Depression, war, international tensions, national and international markets, and the surging growth of science and technology have precipitated national and international problems that demand national and international solutions. While these trends and events have occasioned a consolidation of governmental power, power has also become much more organized in what we have commonly considered to be the private sector. In many situations, policy determinations which traditionally were channeled through formal political institutions are now originated and implemented through a complex array of boards, committees, commissions, corporations, and associations, some only loosely connected with the Government. This blending of positions and power has also occurred in *164the case of individuals so that many who do not hold public office at the moment are nevertheless intimately involved in the resolution of important public questions or, by reason of their fame, shape events in areas of concern to society at large.

Viewed in this context, then, it is plain that although they are not subject to the restraints of the political process, “public figures,” like “public officials,” often play an influential role in ordering society. And surely as a class these “public figures” have as ready access as “public officials” to mass media of communication, both to influence policy and to counter criticism of their views and activities. Our citizenry has a legitimate and substantial interest in the conduct of such persons, and freedom of the press to engage in uninhibited debate about their involvement in public issues and events is as crucial as it is in the case of “public officials.” The fact that they are not amenable to the restraints of the political process only underscores the legitimate and substantial nature of the interest, since it means that public opinion may be the only instrument by which society can attempt to influence their conduct.

I therefore adhere to the New York Times standard in the case of “public figures” as well as “public officials.” It is a manageable standard, readily stated and understood, which also balances to a proper degree the legitimate interests traditionally protected by the law of defamation. Its definition of “actual malice” is not so restrictive that recovery is limited to situations where there is “knowing falsehood” on the part of the publisher of false and defamatory matter. “Reckless disregard” for the truth or falsity, measured by the conduct of the publisher, will also expose him to liability for publishing false material which is injurious to reputation. More significantly, however, the New York Times standard is an important safeguard for the rights of the *165press and public to inform and be informed on matters of legitimate interest. Evenly applied to cases involving “public men” — whether they be “public officials” or “public figures” — it will afford the necessary insulation for the fundamental interests which the First Amendment was designed to protect.

II.

I have no difficulty in concluding that No. 150, Associated Press v. Walker, must be reversed since it is in clear conflict with New York Times. The constitutional defenses were properly raised and preserved by the petitioner. The trial judge expressly ruled that no showing of malice in any sense had been made, and he reversed an award of punitive damages for that reason. The seven members of this Court who reach the question agree with that conclusion, and all agree that the courts below erred in holding the First Amendment inapplicable. Under any reasoning, General Walker was a public man in whose public conduct society and the press had a legitimate and substantial interest.

III.

But No. 37, Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, presents an entirely different situation. There, no First Amendment defenses were raised by the petitioner until after the trial. Because of this failure and because the case was tried before our decision in New York Times, the trial judge did not instruct the jury in terms of the precise formulation we adopted. In connection with the issue of punitive damages, however, the trial judge did give an “actual malice” instruction which invoked the elements we later held necessary in New York Times. He instructed the jury that it would have to find “actual malice” before awarding punitive damages, and he continued by defining “actual malice” as denoting “wanton or reckless indifference or culpable negligence with re*166gard to the rights of others” and as including notions of “ill will, spite, hatred and an intent to injure one.” Under the Georgia law of defamation which governed the case, the jury was also specifically required to find that the defamatory statements were false before it could award any damages, and it was so instructed. With the jury’s attention thus focused on this threshold requirement of falsity, the references in the instructions to wanton or reckless indifference and culpable negligence most probably resulted in a verdict based on the requirement of reckless disregard for the truth of which we spoke in New York Times.1 Although the “actual malice” instructions were not also given in connection with the compensatory damage issue, it is difficult to conceive how petitioner could have been prejudiced by that failure in view of the fact that the jury, guided by “actual malice” instructions, awarded $3,000,000 in punitive damages.2

Unquestionably, in cases tried after our decision in New York Times we should require strict compliance with the standard we established. We should not, how*167ever, be so inflexible in judging cases tried prior thereto, especially when, as here, the trial judge — unaided by advice or objections from counsel — recognized the essential principle and conformed with it to a substantial degree. Moreover, after the New York Times rule was brought to the trial judge’s attention in a post-trial motion, he reviewed the record in light of that precise standard and held that the jury verdict should not be disturbed since “there was ample evidence from which a jury could have concluded that there was reckless disregard by the [petitioner] of whether the article was false or not.”

An additional factor leads me to the conclusion that we should not insist on the financial and emotional expenses of a retrial here merely because the trial judge’s instructions were not given in the precise terms of the present constitutional standard.3 That factor, to which I briefly adverted above, was the choice of the petitioner in this case to raise only truth as a defense and to omit in its pleadings and at the trial any reference to possible First Amendment defenses or even to the conditional privilege provided by Georgia law for “[c]omments upon the acts of public men in their public capacity and with reference thereto.”4 I use the word “choice” in this *168connection, because the facts lead me, as they did the Court of Appeals, to the firm conclusion that the omissions were deliberate. Although this trial occurred before our decision in New York Times, we had granted cer-tiorari to review that case even before the complaint here was filed.5 The Alabama law firm which had represented the New York Times in the state courts was involved in the trial of this case. Lead counsel in the cases conferred periodically, and one of the members of the Alabama law firm referred to above sat at the counsel table throughout this trial. The same Alabama law firm was retained to represent petitioner in a lawsuit filed by Coach Paul Bryant, who was also libeled by the magazine article here in question. First Amendment defenses were raised both at the trial of the New York Times case and by the pleadings in the Bryant lawsuit which was settled for a substantial sum of money. But counsel did not raise such defenses here. Given the importance of this case to petitioner and the interplay between overlapping counsel aligned on the same sides of related lawsuits, I can only conclude that tactical or public relations considerations explain the failure here to defend on First Amendment grounds.

IV.

Satisfied, as I am, that under the circumstances of the Butts case no retrial should be ordered merely because of the instructions, I turn now to the final duty which this Court has when violations of fundamental constitu*169tional principles are alleged. We must review the evidence to ascertain whether the judgment can stand consistently with those principles. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 285 (1964); Speiser v. Randall, 357 U. S. 513, 525 (1958).

The petitioner in this case is a major factor in the publishing business. Among its publications is the Saturday Evening Post which published the defamatory falsehoods here in question. Apparently because of declining advertising revenues, an editorial decision was made to “change the image” of the Saturday Evening Post with the hope that circulation and advertising revenues would thereby be increased. The starting point for this change of image was an announcement that the magazine would embark upon a program of “sophisticated muckraking,”6 designed to “provoke people, make them mad.”

Shortly thereafter, and as an apparent implementation of the new policy, the Saturday Evening Post purchased the rights to the article which formed the subject matter of this case. The slipshod and sketchy investigatory techniques employed to check the veracity of the source and the inferences to be drawn from the few facts believed to be true are detailed at length in the opinion of Mr. Justice Harlan. Suffice it to say that little investigative effort was expended initially, and no additional inquiries were made even after the editors were notified by respondent and his daughter that the account *170to be published was absolutely untrue. Instead, the Saturday Evening Post proceeded on its reckless course with full knowledge of the harm that would likely result from publication of the article. This knowledge was signaled by the statements at the conclusion of the article that “Wally Butts will never help any football team again” and “careers will be ruined, that is sure.”

I am satisfied that the evidence here discloses that degree of reckless disregard for the truth of which we spoke in New York Times and Garrison. Freedom of the press under the First Amendment does not include absolute license to destroy lives or careers.

Mr. Justice Black,

with whom Mr. Justice Douglas joins, concurring in the result in.No. 150, and dissenting in No. 37.

I concur in reversal of the judgment in No. 150, Associated Press v. Walker, based on the grounds and reasons stated in Parts I and II of The Chief Justice’s opinion. I do this, however, as in Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 398, “in order for the Court to be able at this time to agree on [a disposition of] this important case based on the prevailing constitutional doctrine expressed in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254. [The Chief Justice’s] . . . opinion [would decide] the case in accordance with this doctrine, to which the majority adhere. In agreeing to . . . [that] opinion, I do not recede from any of the views I have previously expressed about the much wider press and speech freedoms I think the First and Fourteenth Amendments were designed to grant to the people of the Nation. See, e. g., New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 293 (concurring opinion); Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, 94 (concurring and dissenting opinion).”

I would reverse the judgment in No. 37 for the reasons given in my concurring opinion in New York Times Co. v. *171Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 293, and my concurring and dissenting opinion in Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, 94, but wish to add a few words.

These cases illustrate, I think, the accuracy of my prior predictions that the New York Times constitutional rule concerning libel is wholly inadequate to save the press from being destroyed by libel judgments. Here the Court reverses the case of Associated Press v. Walker, but affirms the judgment of Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts. The main reason for this quite contradictory action, so far as I can determine, is that the Court looks at the facts in both cases as though it were a jury and reaches the conclusion that the Saturday Evening Post, in writing about Butts, was so abusive that its article is more of a libel at the constitutional level than is the one by the Associated Press. That seems a strange way to erect a constitutional standard for libel cases. If this precedent is followed, it means that we must in all libel cases hereafter weigh the facts and hold that all papers and magazines guilty of gross writing or reporting are constitutionally liable, while they are not if the quality of the reporting is approved by a majority of us. In the final analysis, what we do in these circumstances is to review the factual questions in cases decided by juries— a review which is a flat violation of the Seventh Amendment.

It strikes me that the Court is getting itself in the same quagmire in the field of libel in which it is now helplessly struggling in the field of obscenity. No one, including this Court, can know what is and what is not constitutionally obscene or libelous under this Court’s rulings. Today the Court will not give the First Amendment its natural and obvious meaning by holding that a law which seriously menaces the very life of press freedom violates the First Amendment. In fact, the Court is suggesting various experimental expedients in libel cases, *172all of which boil down to a determination of how offensive to this Court a particular libel judgment may be, either because of its immense size or because the Court does not like the way an alleged libelee was treated. Again I suggest (see Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 399) that we are rapidly but surely getting ourselves in the dilemma we found ourselves in when we were compelled to overrule the ill-starred case of Betts v. Brady, 316 U. S. 455,* in order that the state courts of the country might be able to determine with some degree of certainty when an indigent person was entitled to the benefit of a lawyer and avoid the spawning of hundreds of habeas corpus cases that finally raised questions that a lawyer could and would have raised at the trial.

I think it is time for this Court to abandon New York Times Co. v. Sullivan and adopt the rule to the effect that the First Amendment was intended to leave the press free from the harassment of libel judgments.

Mr. Justice Brennan,

with whom Mr. Justice White joins, concurring in the result in No. 150, and dissenting in No. 37.

I join 'Parts I and II of the opinion of The Chief Justice and the disposition in No. 150, Associated Press v. Walker.

In No. 37, Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, insofar as The Chief Justice’s opinion demonstrates that the evidence unmistakably would support a judgment for Butts under the New York Times standard, I agree. I would, however, remand for a new trial since the charge to the jury did not comport with that standard.1 The charge on compensatory damages directed that the jury find *173liability on a finding of mere falsehood. And the trial court stated that punitive damages might be awarded on a finding of “actual malice” which it defined to encompass “the notion of ill will, spite, hatred and an intent to injure one,” and also to denote “a wanton or reckless indifference or culpable negligence with regard to the rights of others.” The court detailed some factors the jury could consider in applying this standard. It said, for example, that “[a] publication may be so extravagant in its denunciation and so vituperative in its character as to justify an inference of malice,” and that “proof that the plaintiff did demand a retraction but that the defendant failed to retract the article may be considered by you on the question of punitive damages.” But “[djebate on public issues will not be uninhibited if the speaker must run the risk that it will be proved in court that he spoke out of hatred; even if he did speak out of hatred, utterances honestly believed contribute to the free interchange of ideas and the ascertainment of truth.” Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 73. The “good motives” of the publisher can be no more relevant in the context of “public men” than in the context of criticism of “public officials.” See Garrison, supra. The court added that the Post could show in mitigation of punitive damages that “it in good faith relied upon certain matters which had come to its attention.” This makes crystal clear that the standard announced authorized the jury to award punitive damages even though it found that the Post had in good faith relied on matters which had come to its attention. The charge undoubtedly fails to comport with New York Times.2

*174That the evidence might support a verdict under New York Times cannot justify our taking from the jury the function of determining, under proper instructions, whether the New York Times standard has been met. The extent of this Court’s role in reviewing the facts, in a case such as this, is to ascertain whether there is evidence by which a jury could reasonably find liability under the constitutionally required instructions. See New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 284-292; Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 391-394. When, as in this case, such evidence appears, the proper disposition in this federal case is to reverse and remand with direction for a new trial. See Time, Inc. v. Hill, supra.

15.15 United States v. O'Brien 15.15 United States v. O'Brien

391 U.S. 367
88 S.Ct. 1673
20 L.Ed.2d 672
UNITED STATES, Petitioner,

v.

David Paul O'BRIEN. David Paul O'BRIEN, Petitioner, v. UNITED STATES.

Nos. 232, 233.
Argued Jan. 24, 1968.
Decided May 27, 1968.

          [Syllabus from pages 367-368 intentionally omitted]

Page 369

                    Solicitor Gen. Erwin N. Griswold for the United States.

          Marvin M. Karpatkin, New York City, for David Paul O'Brien.

           Mr. Chief Justice WARREN delivered the opinion of the Court.

          On the morning of March 31, 1966, David Paul O'Brien and three companions burned their Selective Service registration certificates on the steps of the South Boston Courthouse. A sizable crowd, including several agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, witnessed the event.1 Immediately after the burning, members of the crowd began attacking O'Brien and his companions. An FBI agent ushered O'Brien to safety inside the courthouse. After he was advised of his right to counsel and to silence, O'Brien stated to FBI agents that he had burned his registration certificate because of his beliefs, knowing that he was violating federal law. He produced the charred remains of the certificate, which, with his consent, were photographed.

          For this act, O'Brien was indicted, tried, convicted, and sentenced in the United States District Court for the District of Massachusetts.2 He did not contest the fact

Page 370

that he had burned the certificate. He stated in argument to the jury that he burned the certificate publicly to influence others to adopt his antiwar beliefs, as he put it, 'so that other people would reevaluate their positions with Selective Service, with the armed forces, and reevaluate their place in the culture of today, to hopefully consider my position.'

          The indictment upon which he was tried charged that he 'willfully and knowingly did multilate, destroy, and change by burning * * * (his) Registration Certificate (Selective Service System Form No. 2); in violation of Title 50, App., United States Code, Section 462(b).' Section 462(b) is part of the Universal Military Training and Service Act of 1948. Section 462(b)(3), one of six numbered subdivisions of § 462(b), was amended by Congress in 1965, 79 Stat. 586 (adding the words italicized below), so that at the time O'Brien burned his certificate an offense was committed by any person,

          'who forges, alters, knowingly destroys, knowingly mutilates, or in any manner changes any such certificate * * *.' (Italics supplied.)

          In the District Court, O'Brien argued that the 1965 Amendment prohibiting the knowing destruction or mutilation of certificates was unconstitutional because it was enacted to abridge free speech, and because it served no legitimate legislative purpose.3 The District Court rejected these arguments, holding that the statute on its face did not abridge First Amendment rights, that the court was not competent to inquire into the motives of Congress in enacting the 1965 Amendment, and that the

Page 371

Amendment was a reasonable exercise of the power of Congress to raise armies.

          On appeal, the Court of Appeals for the First Circuit held the 1965 Amendment unconstitutional as a law abridging freedom of speech.4 At the time the Amendment was enacted, a regulation of the Selective Service System required registrants to keep their registration certificates in their 'personal possession at all times.' 32 CFR § 1617.1 (1962).5 Wilful violations of regulations promulgated pursuant to the Universal Military Training and Service Act were made criminal by statute. 50 U.S.C. App. § 462(b)(6). The Court of Appeals, therefore, was of the opinion that conduct punishable under the 1965 Amendment was already punishable under the nonpossession regulation, and consequently that the Amendment served no valid purpose; further, that in light of the prior regulation, the Amendment must have been 'directed at public as distinguished from private destruction.' On this basis, the court concluded that the 1965 Amendment ran afoul of the First Amendment by singling out persons engaged in protests for special treatment. The court ruled, however, that O'Brien's conviction should be affirmed under the statutory provision, 50 U.S.C. App. § 462(b)(6), which in its view made violation of the nonpossession regulation a crime, because it regarded such violation to be a lesser included offense of the crime defined by the 1965 Amendment.6

Page 372

          The Government petitioner for certiorari in No. 232, arguing that the Court of Appeals erred in holding the statute unconstitutional, and that its decision conflicted with decisions by the Courts of Appeals for the Second7 and Eighth Circuits8 upholding the 1965 Amendment against identical constitutional challenges. O'Brien cross-petitioned for certiorari in No. 233, arguing that the Court of Appeals erred in sustaining his conviction on the basis of a crime of which he was neither charged nor tried. We granted the Government's petition to resolve the conflict in the circuits, and we also granted O'Brien's cross-petition. We hold that the 1965 Amendment is constitutional both as enacted and as applied. We therefore vacate the judgment of the Court of Appeals and reinstate the judgment and sentence of the District Court without reaching the issue raised by O'Brien in No. 233.

I.

          When a male reaches the age of 18, he is required by the Universal Military Training and Service Act to register with a local draft board.9 He is assigned a Selective Service number,10 and within five days he is issued a

Page 373

registration certificate (SSS Form No. 2).11 Subsequently, and based on a questionnaire completed by the registrant,12 he is assigned a classification denoting his eligibility for induction,13 and '(a)s soon as practicable' thereafter he is issued a Notice of Classification (SSS Form No. 110).14 This initial classification is not necessarily permanent,15 and if in the interim before induction the registrant's status changes in some relevant way, he may be reclassified.16 After such a reclassification, the local board 'as soon as practicable' issues to the registrant a new Notice of Classification.17

          Both the registration and classification certificates are small white cards, approximately 2 by 3 inches. The registration certificate specifies the name of the registrant, the date of registration, and the number and address of the local board with which he is registered. Also inscribed upon it are the date and place of the registrant's birth, his residence at registration, his physical description, his signature, and his Selective Service number. The Selective Service number itself indicates his State of registration, his local board, his year of birth, and his chronological position in the local board's classification record.18

          The classification certificate shows the registrant's name, Selective Service number, signature, and eligibility classification. It specifies whether he was so classified by his local board, an appeal board, or the President. It

Page 374

contains the address of his local board and the date the certificate was mailed.

          Both the registration and classification certificates bear notices that the registrant must notify his local board in writing of every change in address, physical condition, and occupational, marital, family, dependency, and military status, and of any other fact which might change his classification. Both also contain a notice that the registrant's Selective Service number should appear on all communications to his local board.

          Congress demonstrated its concern that certificates issued by the Selective Service System might be abused well before the 1965 Amendment here challenged. The 1948 Act, 62 Stat. 604, itself prohibited many different abuses involving 'any registration certificate, * * * or any other certificate issued pursuant to or prescribed by the provisions of this title, or rules or regulations promulgated hereunder * * *.' 62 Stat. 622. Under §§ 12(b)(1)—(5) of the 1948 Act, it was unlawful (1) to transfer a certificate to aid a person in making false identification; (2) to possess a certificate not duly issued with the intent of using it for false identification; (3) to forge, alter, 'or in any manner' change a certificate or any notation validly inscribed thereon; (4) to photograph or make an imitation of a certificate for the purpose of false identification; and (5) to possess a counterfeited or altered certificate. 62 Stat. 622. In addition, as previously mentioned, regulations of the Selective Service System required registrants to keep both their registration and classification certificates in their personal possession at all times. 32 CFR § 1617.1 (1962) (Registration Certificates);19 32 CFR § 1623.5

Page 375

(1962) (Classification Certificates).20 And § 12(b)(6) of the Act, 62 Stat. 622, made knowing violation of any provision of the Act or rules and regulations promulgated pursuant thereto a felony.

          By the 1965 Amendment, Congress added to § 12(b)(3) of the 1948 Act the provision here at issue, subjecting to criminal liability not only one who 'forges, alters, or in any manner changes' but also one who 'knowingly destroys (or) knowingly mutilates' a certificate. We note at the outset that the 1965 Amendment plainly does not abridge free speech on its face, and we do not understand O'Brien to argue otherwise. Amended § 12(b)(3) on its face deals with conduct having no connection with speech. It prohibits the knowing destruction of certificates issued by the Selective Service System, and there is nothing necessarily expressive about such conduct. The Amendment does not distinguish between public and private destruction, and it does not punish only destruction engaged in for the purpose of expressing views. Compare Stromberg v. People of State of California, 283 U.S. 359, 51 S.Ct. 532, 75 L.Ed. 1117 (1931).21 A law prohibiting destruction of Selective Service certificates no more abridges free speech on its face than a motor vehicle law prohibiting the destruction of drivers' licenses, or a tax law prohibiting the destruction of books and records.

Page 376

          O'Brien nonetheless argues that the 1965 Amendment is unconstitutional in its application to him, and is unconstitutional as enacted because what he calls the 'purpose' of Congress was 'to suppress freedom of speech.' We consider these arguments separately.

II.

          O'Brien first argues that the 1965 Amendment is unconstitutional as applied to him because his act of burning his registration certificate was protected 'symbolic speech' within the First Amendment. His argument is that the freedom of expression which the First Amendment guarantees includes all modes of 'communication of ideas by conduct,' and that his conduct is within this definition because he did it in 'demonstration against the war and against the draft.'

          We cannot accept the view that an apparently limitless variety of conduct can be labeled 'speech' whenever the person engaging in the conduct intends thereby to express an idea. However, even on the assumption that the alleged communicative element in O'Brien's conduct is sufficient to bring into play the First Amendment, it does not necessarily follow that the destruction of a registration certificate is constitutionally protected activity. This Court has held that when 'speech' and 'nonspeech' elements are combined in the same course of conduct, a sufficiently important governmental interest in regulating the nonspeech element can justify incidental limitations on First Amendment freedoms. To characterize the quality of the governmental interest which must appear, the Court has employed a variety of descriptive terms: compelling; 22 substantial;23 subordi-

Page 377

nating;24 paramount;25 cogent;26 strong.27 Whatever imprecision inheres in these terms, we think it clear that a government regulation is sufficiently justified if it is within the constitutional power of the Government; if it furthers an important or substantial governmental interest; if the governmental interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression; and if the incidental restriction on alleged First Amendment freedoms is no greater than is essential to the furtherance of that interest. We find that the 1965 Amendment to § 12(b)(3) of the Universal Military Training and Service Act meets all of these requirements, and consequently that O'Brien can be constitutionally convicted for violating it.

          The constitutional power of Congress to raise and support armies and to make all laws necessary and proper to that end is broad and sweeping. Lichter v. Uniter States, 334 U.S. 742, 755 758, 68 S.Ct. 1294, 1301—1303, 92 L.Ed. 1694 (1948); Selective Draft Law Cases, 245 U.S. 366, 38 S.Ct. 159, 62 L.Ed. 349 (1918); see also Ex parte Quirin, 317 U.S. 1, 25—26, 63 S.Ct. 1, 9—10, 87 L.Ed. 3 (1942). The power of Congress to classify and conscript manpower for military service is 'beyond question.' Lichter v. United States, supra, 334 U.S. at 756, 68 S.Ct. at 1302; Selective Draft Law Cases, supra. Pursuant to this power, Congress may establish a system of registration for individuals liable for training and service, and may require such individuals within reason to cooperate in the registration system. The issuance of certificates indicating the registration and eligibility classification of individuals is a legitimate and substantial administrative aid in the functioning of this system. And legislation

Page 378

to insure the continuing availability of issued certificates serves a legitimate and substantial purpose in the system's administration.

          O'Brien's argument to the contrary is necessarily premised upon his unrealistic characterization of Selective Service certificates. He essentially adopts the position that such certificates are so many pieces of paper designed to notify registrants of their registration or classification, to be retained or tossed in the wastebasket according to the convenience or taste of the registrant. Once the registrant has received notification, according to this view, there is no reason for him to retain the certificates. O'Brien notes that most of the information on a registration certificate serves no notification purpose at all; the registrant hardly needs to be told his address and physical characteristics. We agree that the registration certificate contains much information of which the registrant needs no notification. This circumstance, however, does not lead to the conclusion that the certificate serves no purpose, but that, like the classification certificate, it serves purposes in addition to initial notification. Many of these purposes would be defeated by the certificates' destruction or mutilation. Among these are:

          1. The registration certificate serves as proof that the individual described thereon has registered for the draft. The classification certificate shows the eligibility classification of a named but undescribed individual. Voluntarily displaying the two certificates is an easy and painless way for a young man to dispel a question as to whether he might be delinquent in his Selective Service obligations. Correspondingly, the availability of the certificates for such display relieves the Selective Service System of the administrative burden it would otherwise have in verifying the registration and classification of all suspected delinquents. Further, since both certificates are in the nature of 'receipts' attesting that the regis-

Page 379

trant has done what the law requires, it is in the interest of the just and efficient administration of the system that they be continually available, in the event, for example, of a mix-up in the registrant's file. Additionally, in a time of national crisis, reasonable availability to each registrant of the two small cards assures a rapid and uncomplicated means for determining his fitness for immediate induction, no matter how distant in our mobile society he may be from his local board.

          2. The information supplied on the certificates facilitates communication between registrants and local boards, simplifying the system and benefiting all concerned. To begin with, each certificate bears the address of the registrant's local board, an item unlikely to be committed to memory. Further, each card bears the registrant's Selective Service number, and a registrant who has his number readily available so that he can communicate it to his local board when he supplies or requests information can make simpler the board's task in locating his file. Finally, a registrant's inquiry, particularly through a local board other than his own, concerning his eligibility status is frequently answerable simply on the basis of his classification certificate; whereas, if the certificate were not reasonably available and the registrant were uncertain of his classification, the task of answering his questions would be considerably complicated.

          3. Both certificates carry continual reminders that the registrant must notify his local board of any change of address, and other specified changes in his status. The smooth functioning of the system requires that local boards be continually aware of the status and whereabouts of registrants, and the destruction of certificates deprives the system of a potentially useful notice device.

          4. The regulatory scheme involving Selective Service certificates includes clearly valid prohibitions against the alteration, forgery, or similar deceptive misuse of certifi-

Page 380

cates. The destruction or mutilation of certificates obviously increases the difficulty of detecting and tracing abuses such as these. Further, a mutilated certificate might itself be used for deceptive purposes.

          The many functions performed by Selective Service certificates establish beyond doubt that Congress has a legitimate and substantial interest in preventing their wanton and unrestrained destruction and assuring their continuing availability by punishing people who knowingly and wilfully destroy or mutilate them. And we are unpersuaded that the pre-existence of the nonpossession regulations in any way negates this interest.

          In the absence of a question as to multiple punishment, it has never been suggested that there is anything improper in Congress' providing alternative statutory avenues of prosecution to assure the effective protection of one and the same interest. Compare the majority and dissenting opinions in Gore v. United States, 357 U.S. 386, 78 S.Ct. 1280, 2 L.Ed.2d 1405 (1958).28 Here, the pre-existing avenue of prosecution was not even statutory. Regulations may be modified or revoked from time to time by administrative discretion. Certainly, the Congress may change or supplement a regulation.

          Equally important, a comparison of the regulations with the 1965 Amendment indicates that they protect overlapping but not identical governmental interests, and that they reach somewhat different classes of wrongdoers.29 The gravamen of the offense defined by the statute is the deliberate rendering of certificates unavailable for the various purposes which they may serve. Whether registrants keep their certificates in their per-

Page 381

sonal possession at all times, as required by the regulations, is of no particular concern under the 1965 Amendment, as long as they do not mutilate or destroy the certificates so as to render them unavailable. Although as we note below we are not concerned here with the nonpossession regulations, it is not inappropriate to observe that the essential elements of nonpossession are not identical with those of mutilation or destruction. Finally, the 1965 Amendment, like § 12(b) which it amended, is concerned with abuses involving any issued Selective Service certificates, not only with the registrant's own certificates. The knowing destruction or mutilation of someone else's certificates would therefore violate the statute but not the nonpossession regulations.

          We think it apparent that the continuing availability to each registrant of his Selective Service certificates substantially furthers the smooth and proper functioning of the system that Congress has established to raise armies. We think it also apparent that the Nation has a vital interest in having a system for raising armies that functions with maximum efficiency and is capable of easily and quickly responding to continually changing circumstances. For these reasons, the Government has a substantial interest in assuring the continuing availability of issued Selective Service certificates.

          It is equally clear that the 1965 Amendment specifically protects this substantial governmental interest. We perceive no alternative means that would more precisely and narrowly assure the continuing availability of issued Selective Service certificates than a law which prohibits their wilful mutilation or destruction. Compare Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U.S. 398, 407—408, 83 S.Ct. 1790, 1795—1796, 10 L.Ed.2d 965 (1963), and the cases cited therein. The 1965 Amendment prohibits such conduct and does nothing more. In other words, both the governmental interest and the operation of the 1965 Amendment are limited to the noncommuni-

Page 382

cative aspect of O'Brien's conduct. The governmental interest and the scope of the 1965 Amendment are limited to preventing harm to the smooth and efficient functioning of the Selective Service System. When O'Brien deliberately rendered unavailable his registration certificate, he wilfully frustrated this governmental interest. For this noncommunicative impact of his conduct, and for nothing else, he was convicted.

          The case at bar is therefore unlike one where the alleged governmental interest in regulating conduct arises in some measure because the communication allegedly integral to the conduct is itself thought to be harmful. In Stromberg v. People of State of California, 283 U.S. 359, 51 S.Ct. 532, 75 L.Ed. 1117 (1931), for example, this Court struck down a statutory phrase which punished people who expressed their 'opposition to organized government' by displaying 'any flag, badge, banner, or device.' Since the statute there was aimed at suppressing communication it could not be sustained as a regulation of noncommunicative conduct. See also, NLRB v. Fruit & Vegetable Packers Union, 377 U.S. 58, 79, 84 S.Ct. 1063, 1074, 12 L.Ed.2d 129 (1964) (concurring opinion).

          In conclusion, we find that because of the Government's substantial interest in assuring the continuing availability of issued Selective Service certificates, because amended § 462(b) is an appropriately narrow means of protecting this interest and condemns only the independent noncommunicative impact of conduct within its reach, and because the noncommunicative impact of O'Brien's act of burning his registration certificate frustrated the Government's interest, a sufficient governmental interest has been shown to justify O'Brien's conviction.

III.

          O'Brien finally argues that the 1965 Amendment is unconstitutional as enacted because what he calls the 'purpose' of Congress was 'to suppress freedom of

Page 383

speech.' We reject this argument because under settled principles the purpose of Congress, as O'Brien uses that term, is not a basis for declaring this legislation unconstitutional.

          It is a familiar principle of constitutional law that this Court will not strike down an otherwise constitutional statute on the basis of an alleged illicit legislative motive. As the Court long ago stated:

          'The decisions of this court from the beginning lend no support whatever to the assumption that the judiciary may restrain the exercise of lawful power on the assumption that a wrongful purpose or motive has caused the power to be exerted.' McCray v. United States, 195 U.S. 27, 56, 24 S.Ct. 769, 776, 49 L.Ed. 78 (1904).

          This fundamental principle of constitutional adjudication was reaffirmed and the many cases were collected by Mr. Justice Brandeis for the Court in State of Arizona v. State of California, 283 U.S. 423, 455, 51 S.Ct. 522, 526, 75 L.Ed. 1154 (1931).

          Inquiries into congressional motives or purposes are a hazardous matter. When the issue is simply the interpretation of legislation, the Court will look to statements by legislators for guidance as to the purpose of the legislature, 30 because the benefit to sound decision-making in-

Page 384

this circumstance is thought sufficient to risk the possibility of misreading Congress' purpose. It is entirely a different matter when we are asked to void a statute that is, under well-settled criteria, constitutional on its face, on the basis of what fewer than a handful of Congressmen said about it. What motivates one legislator to make a speech about a statute is not necessarily what motivates scores of others to enact it, and the stakes are sufficiently high for us to eschew guesswork. We decline to void essentially on the ground that it is unwise legislation which Congress had the undoubted power to enact and which could be reenacted in its exact form if the same or another legislator made a 'wiser' speech about it.

          O'Brien's position, and to some extent that of the court below, rest upon a misunderstanding of Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U.S. 233, 56 S.Ct. 444, 80 L.Ed. 660 (1936), and Gomillion v. Lighfoot, 364 U.S. 339, 81 S.Ct. 125, 5 L.Ed.2d 110 (1960). These cases stand, not for the proposition that legislative motive is a proper basis for declaring a statute unconstitutional, but that the inevitable effect of a statute on its face may render it unconstitutional. Thus, in Grosjean the Court, having concluded that the right of publications to be free from certain kinds of taxes was a freedom of the press protected by the First Amendment, struck down a statute which on its face did nothing other than impose

Page 385

just such a tax. Similarly, in Gomillion, the Court sustained a complaint which, if true, established that the 'inevitable effect,' 364 U.S., at 341, 81 S.Ct. at 127, of the redrawing of municipal boundaries was to deprive the petitioners of their right to vote for no reason other than that they were Negro. In these cases, the purpose of the legislation was irrelevant, because the inevitable effect—the 'necessary scope and operation,' McCray v. United States, 195 U.S. 27, 59, 24 S.Ct. 769, 777, 49 L.Ed. 78 (1904)—abridged constitutional rights. The statute attacked in the instant case has no such inevitable unconstitutional effect, since the destruction of Selective Service certificates is in no respect inevitably or necessarily expressive. Accordingly, the statute itself is constitutional.

          We think it not amiss, in passing, to comment upon O'Brien's legislative-purpose argument. There was little floor debate on this legislation in either House. Only Senator Thurmond commented on its substantive features in the Senate. 111 Cong.Rec. 19746, 20433. After his brief statement, and without any additional substantive comments, the bill, H.R. 10306, passed the Senate. 111 Cong.Rec. 20434. In the House debate only two Congressment addressed themselves to the Amendment—Congressmen Rivers and Bray. 111 Cong.Rec. 19871, 19872. The bill was passed after their statements without any further debate by a vote of 393 to 1. It is principally on the basis of the statements by these three Congressmen that O'Brienmakes his congressional-'purpose' argument. We note that if we were to examine legislative purpose in the instant case, we would be obliged to consider not only these statements but also the more authoritative reports of the Senate and House Armed Services Committees. The portions of those reports explaining the purpose of the Amendment are reproduced in the Appendix in their entirety. While both reports make clear a concern with the 'defiant'

Page 386

destruction of so-called 'draft cards' and with 'open' encouragement to others to destroy their cards, both reports also indicate that this concern stemmed from an apprehension that unrestrained destruction of cards would disrupt the smooth functioning of the Selective Service System.

IV.

          Since the 1965 Amendment to § 12(b)(3) of the Universal Military Training and Service Act is constitutional as enacted and as applied, the Court of Appeals should have affirmed the judgment of conviction entered by the District Court. Accordingly, we vacate the judgment of the Court of Appeals, and reinstate the judgment and sentence of the District Court. This disposition makes unnecessary consideration of O'Brien's claim that the Court of Appeals erred in affirming his conviction on the basis of the nonpossession regulation.31

          It is so ordered.

          Mr. Justice MARSHALL took no part in the consideration or decision of these cases.

                            APPENDIX TO OPINION OF THE COURT.

  PORTIONS OF THE REPORTS OF THE COMMITTEES ON ARMED SERVICES OF THE SENATE AND HOUSE EXPLAINING THE 1965 AMENDMENT.

          The 'Explanation of the Bill' in the Senate Report is as follows:

          'Section 12(b)(3) of the Universal Military Training and Service Act of 1951, as amended, provides, among other things, that a person who forges, alters, or changes

Page 387

a draft registration certificate is subject to a fine of not more than $10,000 or imprisonment of not more than 5 years, or both. There is no explicit prohibition in this section against the knowing destruction or mutilation of such cards.

          'The committee has taken notice of the defiant destruction and mutilation of draft cards by dissident persons who disapprove of national policy. If allowed to continue unchecked this contumacious conduct represents a potential threat to the exercise of the power to raise and support armies.

          'For a person to be subject to fine or imprisonment the destruction or mutilation of the draft card must be 'knowingly' done. This qualification is intended to protect persons who lose or mutilate draft cards accidentally.' S.Rep. No. 589, 89th Cong., 1st Sess. (1965). And the House Report explained:

          'Section 12(b)(3) of the Universal Military Training and Service Act of 1951, as amended, provides that a person who forges, alters, or in any manner changes his draft registration card, or any notation duly and validly inscribed thereon, will be subject to a fine of $10,000 or imprisonment of not more than 5 years. H.R. 10306 would amend this provision to make it apply also to those persons who knowingly destroy or knowingly mutilate a draft registration card.

          'The House Committee on Armed Services is fully aware of, and shares in, the deep concern expressed throughout the Nation over the increasing incidences in which individuals and large groups of individuals openly defy and encourage others to defy the authority of their Government by destroying or mutilating their draft cards.

          'While the present provisions of the Criminal Code with respect to the destruction of Government property

Page 388

may appear broad enough to cover all acts having to do with the mistreatment of draft cards in the possession of individuals, the committee feels that in the present critical situation of the country, the acts of destroying or mutilating these cards are offenses which pose such a grave threat to the security of the Nation that no question whatsoever should be left as to the intention of the Congress that such wanton and irresponsible acts should be punished.

          'To this end, H.R. 10306 makes specific that knowingly mutilating or knowingly destroying a draft card constitutes a violation of the Universal Military Training and Service Act and is punishable thereunder; and that a person who does so destroy or mutilate a draft card will be subject to a fine of not more than $10,000 or imprisonment of not more than 5 years.' H.R.Rep. No. 747, 89th Cong., 1st Sess. (1965) U.S. Congressional and Administrative News, p. 2890.

           Mr. Justice HARLAN, concurring.

          The crux of the Court's opinion, which I join, is of course its general statement, ante, at 377, that:

          'a government regulation is sufficiently justified if it is within the constitutional power of the Government; if it furthers an important or substantial governmental interest; if the governmental interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression; and if the incidental restriction on alleged First Amendment freedoms is no greater than is essential to the furtherance of that interest.'

          I wish to make explicit my understanding that this passage does not foreclose consideration of First Amendment claims in those rare instances when an 'incidental' restriction upon expression, imposed by a regulation which furthers an 'important or substantial' governmental interest and satisfies the Court's other criteria, in practice has the effect of entirely preventing a 'speaker'

Page 389

from reaching a significant audience with whom he could not otherwise lawfully communicate. This is not such a case, since O'Brien manifestly could have conveyed his message in many ways other than by burning his draft card.

           Mr. Justice DOUGLAS, dissenting.

          The Court states that the constitutional power of Congress to raise and support armies is 'broad and sweeping' and that Congress' power 'to classify and conscript manpower for military service is 'beyond question." This is undoubtedly true in times when, by declaration of Congress, the Nation is in a state of war. The underlying and basic problem in this case, however, is whether conscription is permissible in the absence of a declaration of war. 1 That question has not been briefed nor was it presented in oral argument; but it is, I submit, a question upon which the litigants and the country are entitled to a ruling. I have discussed in Holmes v. United States, 390 U.S. 936, 88 S.Ct. 1835, the nature of the legal issue and it will be seen from my dissenting opinion in that case that this Court has never ruled on

Page 390

the question. It is time that we made a ruling. This case should be put down for reargument and heard with Holmes v. United States and with Hart v. United States, 390 U.S. 956, 88 S.Ct. 1851, 20 L.Ed.2d 871, in which the Court today denies certiorari.2

          The rule that this Court will not consider issues not raised by the parties is not inflexible and yields in 'exceptional cases' (Duignan v. United States, 274 U.S. 195, 200, 47 S.Ct. 566, 71 L.Ed. 996) to the need correctly to decide the case before the court. E.g., Erie R. Co. v. Tompkins, 304 U.S. 64, 58 S.Ct. 817, 82 L.Ed. 1188; Terminiello v. City of Chicago, 337 U.S. 1, 69 S.Ct. 894, 93 L.Ed. 1131.

          In such a case it is not unusual to ask for reargument (Sherman v. United States, 356 U.S. 369, 379, n. 2, 78 S.Ct. 819, 2 L.Ed.2d 848, Frankfurter, J., concurring) even on a constitutional question not raised by the parties. In Abel v. United States, 362 U.S. 217, 80 S.Ct. 683, 4 L.Ed.2d 668, the petitioner had conceded that an administrative deportation arrest warrant would be valid for its limited purpose even though not supported by a sworn affidavit stating probable cause; but the Court ordered reargument on the question whether the warrant had been validly issued in petitioner's case. 362 U.S., at 219, n., par. 1, 80 S.Ct. at 687; 359 U.S. 940, 79 S.Ct. 720, 3 L.Ed.2d 674. In Lustig v. United States, 338 U.S. 74, 69 S.Ct. 1372, 93 L.Ed. 1819, the petitioner argued that an exclusionary rule should apply to the fruit of an unreasonable search by state officials solely because they acted in concert with federal officers (see Weeks v. United States, 232 U.S. 383, 34 S.Ct. 341, 58 L.Ed. 652; Byars v. United States, 273 U.S. 28, 47 S.Ct. 248, 71 L.Ed. 520). The Court ordered reargument on the question raised in a then pending case, Wolf v. People of State of Colorado, 338 U.S. 25, 69 S.Ct. 1359, 93 L.Ed. 1782, applicability of the Fourth Amendment to the States. U.S.Sup.Ct. Journal, October Term, 1947, p. 298. In Donaldson v. Read Magazine, 333 U.S. 178, 68 S.Ct. 591, 92 L.Ed. 628, the only issue presented,

Page 391

according to both parties, was whether the record contained sufficient evidence of fraud to uphold an order of the Postmaster General. Reargument was ordered on the constitutional issue of abridgment of First Amendment freedoms. 333 U.S., at 181—182, 68 S.Ct. at 593—594; Journal, October Term, 1947, p. 70. Finally, in Musser v. Utah, 333 U.S. 95, 96, 68 S.Ct. 397, 92 L.Ed. 562, reargument was ordered on the question of unconstitutional vagueness of a criminal statute, an issue not raised by the parties but suggested at oral argument by Justice Jackson. Journal, October Term, 1947, p. 87.

          These precedents demonstrate the appropriateness of restoring the instant case to the calendar for reargument on the question of the constitutionality of a peacetime draft and having it heard with Holmes v. United States and Hart v. United States.

1. At the time of the burning, the agents knew only that O'Brien and his three companions had burned small white cards. They later discovered that the card O'Brien burned was his registration certificate, and the undisputed assumption is that the same is true of his companions.

2. He was sentenced under the Youth Corrections Act, 18 U.S.C. § 5010(b), to the custody of the Attorney General for a maximum period of six years for supervision and treatment.

3. The issue of the constitutionality of the 1965 Amendment was raised by counsel representing O'Brien in a pretrial motion to dismiss the indictment. At trial and upon sentencing, O'Brien chose to represent himself. He was represented by counsel on his appeal to the Court of Appeals.

4. O'Brien v. United States, 376 F.2d 538 (C.A.1st Cir. 1967).

5. The portion of 32 CFR relevant to the instant case was revised as of January 1, 1967. Citations in this opinion are to the 1962 edition which was in effect when O'Brien committed the crime, and when Congress enacted the 1965 Amendment.

6. The Court of Appeals nevertheless remanded the case to the District Court to vacate the sentence and resentence O'Brien. In the court's view, the district judge might have considered the violation of the 1965 Amendment as an aggravating circumstance in imposing sentence. The Court of Appeals subsequently denied O'Brien's petition for a rehearing, in which he argued that he had not been charged, tried, or convicted for nonpossession, and that nonpossession was not a lesser included offense of mutilation or destruction. O'Brien v. United States, 376 F.2d 538, 542 (C.A.1st Cir. 1967).

7. United States v. Miller, 367 F.2d 72 (C.A.2d Cir. 1966), cert. denied, 386 U.S. 911, 87 S.Ct. 855, 17 L.Ed.2d 787 (1967).

8. Smith v. United States, 368 F.2d 529 (C.A.8th Cir. 1966).

9. See 62 Stat. 605, as amended, 65 Stat. 76, 50 U.S.C. App. § 453; 32 CFR § 1613.1 (1962).

10. 32 CFR § 1621.2 (1962).

11. 32 CFR § 1613.43a (1962).

12. 32 CFR §§ 1621.9, 1623.1 (1962).

13. 32 CFR §§ 1623.1, 1623.2 (1962).

14. 32 CFR § 1623.4 (1962).

15. 32 CFR § 1625.1 (1962).

16. 32 CFR §§ 1625.1, 1625.2, 1625.3, 1625.4, and 1625.11 (1962).

17. 32 CFR § 1625.12 (1962).

18. 32 CFR § 1621.2 (1962).

19. 32 CFR § 1617.1 (1962), provides, in relevant part:

'Every person required to present himself for and submit to registration must, after he is registered, have in his personal possession at all times his Registration Certificate (SSS Form No. 2) prepared by his local board which has not been altered and on which no notation duly and validly inscribed thereon has been changed in any manner after its preparation by the local board. The failure of any person to have his Registration Certificate (SSS Form No. 2) in his personal possession shall be prima facie evidence of his failure to register.'

20. 32 CFR § 1623.5 (1962), provides, in relevant part:

'Every person who has been classified by a local board must have in his personal possession at all times, in addition to his Registration Certificate (SSS Form No. 2), a valid Notice of Classification (SSS Form No. 110) issued to him showing his current classification.'

21. See text, infra, at 382.

22. NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 438, 83 S.Ct. 328, 340, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1963); see also Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U.S. 398, 403, 83 S.Ct. 1790, 1793, 10 L.Ed.2d 965 (1963).

23. NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 444, 83 S.Ct. 328, 343, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1963); NAACP v. State of Alabama ex rel. Patterson, 357 U.S. 449, 464, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488 (1958).

24. Bates v. City of Little Rock, 361 U.S. 516, 524, 80 S.Ct. 412, 417, 4 L.Ed.2d 480 (1960).

25. Thomas v. Collins, 323 U.S. 516, 530, 65 S.Ct. 315, 322, 89 L.Ed. 430 (1945); see also Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U.S. 398, 406, 83 S.Ct. 1790, 1795, 10 L.Ed.2d 965 (1963).

26. Bates v. City of Little Rock, 361 U.S. 516, 524, 80 S.Ct. 412, 417, 4 L.Ed.2d 480 (1960).

27. Sherbert v. Verner, 374 U.S. 398, 408, 83 S.Ct. 1790, 1796, 10 L.Ed.2d 965 (1963).

28. Cf. Milanovich v. United States, 365 U.S. 551, 81 S.Ct. 728, 5 L.Ed.2d 773 (1961); Heflin v. United States, 358 U.S. 415, 79 S.Ct. 451, 3 L.Ed.2d 407 (1959); Prince v. United States, 352 U.S. 322, 77 S.Ct. 403, 1 L.Ed.2d 370 (1957).

29. Cf. Milanovich v. United States, 365 U.S. 551, 81 S.Ct. 728, 5 L.Ed.2d 773 (1961); Heflin v. United States, 358 U.S. 415, 79 S.Ct. 451, 3 L.Ed.2d 407 (1959); Prince v. United States, 352 U.S. 322, 77 S.Ct. 403, 1 L.Ed.2d 370 (1957).

30. The Court may make the same assumption in a very limited and well-defined class of cases where the very nature of the constitutional question requires an inquiry into legislative purpose. The principal class of cases is readily apparent—those in which statutes have been challenged as bills of attainder. This Court's decisions have defined a bill of attainder as a legislative Act which inflicts punishment on named individuals or members of an easily ascertainable group without a judicial trial. In determining whether a particular statute is a bill of attainder, the analysis necessarily requires an inquiry into whether the three definitional elements—specificity in identification, punishment, and lack of a judicial trial—are contained in the statute. The inquiry into whether the challenged statute contains the necessary element of punishment has on occasion led the Court to examine the legislative motive in enacting the statute. See, e.g., United States v. Lovett, 328 U.S. 303, 66 S.Ct. 1073, 90 L.Ed. 1252 (1946). Two other decisions not involving a bill of attainder analysis contain an inquiry into legislative purpose or motive of the type that O'Brien suggests we engage in in this case. Kennedy v. Mendoza-Martinez, 372 U.S. 144, 169—184, 83 S.Ct. 554, 568—575, 9 L.Ed.2d 644 (1963); Trop v. Dulles, 356 U.S. 86, 95—97, 78 S.Ct. 590, 595—596, 2 L.Ed.2d 630 (1958). The inquiry into legislative purpose or motive in Kennedy and Trop, however, was for the same limited purpose as in the bill of attainder decisions—i.e., to determine whether the statutes under review were punitive in nature. We face no such inquiry in this case. The 1965 Amendment to § 462(b) was clearly penal in nature, designed to impose criminal punishment for designated acts.

31. The other issues briefed by O'Brien were not raised in the petition for certiorari in No. 232 or in the cross-petition in No. 233. Accordingly, those issues are not before the Court.

1. Neither of the decisions cited by the majority for the proposition that Congress' power to conscript men into the armed services is "beyond question" concerns peacetime conscription. As I have shown in my dissenting opinion in Holmes v. United States, 391 U.S. 936, 88 S.Ct. 1835, 20 L.Ed.2d 856, the Selective Draft Law Cases, 245 U.S. 366, 38 S.Ct. 159, 62 L.Ed. 349, decided in 1918, upheld the constitutionality of a conscription act passed by Congress more than a month after war had been declared on the German Empire and which was then being enforced in time of war. Lichter v. United States, 334 U.S. 742, 68 S.Ct. 1294, 92 L.Ed. 1694, concerned the constitutionality of the Renegotiation Act, another wartime measure, enacted by Congress over the period of 1942—1945 (id., at 745, n. 1, 68 S.Ct. at 1297) and applied in that case to excessive war profits made in 1942—1943 (id., at 753, 68 S.Ct. at 1300). War had been declared, of course, in 1941 (55 Stat. 795). The Court referred to Congress' power to raise armies in discussing the 'background' (334 U.S., at 753, 68 S.Ct., at 1300) of the Renegotiation Act, which it upheld as a valid exercise of the War Power.

2. Today the Court also denies stays in Shiffman v. Selective Service Local Board No. 5, 391 U.S. 930, 88 S.Ct. 1831, 20 L.Ed.2d 849, and Zigmond v. Selective Service Local Board No. 16, 391 U.S. 930, 88 S.Ct. 1831, 20 L.Ed.2d 851, where punitive delinquency regulations are invoked against registrants, decisions that present a related question.

15.16 Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District 15.16 Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District

TINKER et al. v. DES MOINES INDEPENDENT COMMUNITY SCHOOL DISTRICT et al.

No. 21.

Argued November 12, 1968.

Decided February 24, 1969.

Dan L. Johnston argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the brief were Melvin L. Wulj and David N. Ellenhorn.

Allan A. Herrick argued the cause for respondents. With him on the brief were Herschel G. Langdon and David W. Belin.

Charles Morgan, Jr., filed a brief for the United States National Student Association, as amicus curiae, urging reversal.

*504Mr. Justice Fortas

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Petitioner John F. Tinker, 15 years old, and petitioner Christopher Eckhardt, 16 years old, attended high schools in Des Moines, Iowa. Petitioner Mary Beth Tinker, John’s sister, was a 13-year-old student in junior high school.

In December 1965, a group of adults and students in Des Moines held a meeting at the Eckhardt home. The group determined to publicize their objections to the hostilities in Vietnam and their support for a truce by wearing black armbands during the holiday season and by fasting on December 16 and New Year’s Eve. Petitioners and their parents had previously engaged in similar activities, and they decided to participate in the program.

The principals of the Des Moines schools became aware of the plan to wear armbands. On December 14, 1965, they met and adopted a policy that any student wearing an armband to school would be asked to remove it, and if he refused he would be suspended until he returned without the armband. Petitioners were aware of the regulation that the school authorities adopted.

On December 16, Mary Beth and Christopher wore black armbands to their schools. John Tinker wore his armband the next day. They were all sent home and suspended from school until they would come back without their armbands. They did not return to school until after the planned period for wearing armbands had expired — that is, until after New Year’s Day.

This complaint was filed in the United States District Court by petitioners, through their fathers, under § 1983 of Title 42 of the United States Code. It prayed for an injunction restraining the respondent school officials and the respondent members of the board of directors of the school district from disciplining the petitioners, and it sought nominal damages. After an evidentiary hearing the District Court dismissed the complaint. It up*505held the constitutionality of the school authorities' action on the ground that it was reasonable in order to prevent disturbance of school discipline. 258 F. Supp. 971 (1966). The court referred to but expressly declined to follow the Fifth Circuit’s holding in a similar ease that the wearing of symbols like the armbands cannot be prohibited unless it “materially and substantially interfere[s] with the requirements of appropriate discipline in the operation of the school.” Burnside v. Byars, 363 F. 2d 744, 749 (1966).1

On appeal, the Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit considered the case en banc. The court was equally divided, and the District Court’s decision was accordingly affirmed, without opinion. 383 F. 2d 988 (1967). We granted certiorari. 390 U. S. 942 (1968).

I.

The District Court recognized that the wearing of an armband for the purpose of expressing certain views is the type of symbolic act that is within the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment. See West Virginia v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943); Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359 (1931). Cf. Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88 (1940); Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U. S. 229 (1963); Brown v. Louisiana, 383 U. S. 131 (1966). As we shall discuss, the wearing of armbands in the circumstances of this case was entirely divorced from actually or potentially disruptive conduct by those participating in it. It was closely akin to “pure speech” *506which, we have repeatedly held, is entitled to comprehensive protection under the First Amendment. Cf. Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 555 (1965); Adderley v. Florida, 385 U. S. 39 (1966).

First Amendment rights, applied in light of the special characteristics of the school environment, are available to teachers and students. It can hardly be argued that either students or teachers shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate. This has been the unmistakable holding of this Court for almost 50 years. In Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390 (1923), and Bartels v. Iowa, 262 U. S. 404 (1923), this Court, in opinions by Mr. Justice McReynolds, held that the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment prevents States from forbidding the teaching of a foreign language to young students. Statutes to this effect, the Court held, unconstitutionally interfere with the liberty of teacher, student, and parent.2 See also Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 *507U. S. 510 (1925); West Virginia v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943); McCollum v. Board of Education, 333 U. S. 203 (1948); Wieman v. Updegraff, 344 U. S. 183, 195 (1952) (concurring opinion); Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U. S. 234 (1957); Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479, 487 (1960); Engel v. Vitale, 370 U. S. 421 (1962); Keyishian v. Board of Regents, 385 U. S. 589, 603 (1967); Epperson v. Arkansas, ante, p. 97 (1968).

In West Virginia v. Barnette, supra, this Court held that under the First Amendment, the student in public school may not be compelled to salute the flag. Speaking through Mr. Justice Jackson, the Court said:

“The Fourteenth Amendment, as now applied to the States, protects the citizen against the State itself and all of its creatures — Boards of Education not excepted. These have, of course, important, delicate, and highly discretionary functions, but none that they may not perform within the limits of the Bill of Rights. That they are educating the young for citizenship is reason for scrupulous protection of Constitutional freedoms of the individual, if we are not to strangle the free mind at its source and teach youth to discount important principles of our government as mere platitudes.” 319 U. S., at 637.

On the other hand, the Court has repeatedly emphasized the need for affirming the comprehensive authority of the States and of school officials, consistent with fundamental constitutional safeguards, to prescribe and control conduct in the schools. See Epperson v. Arkansas, supra, at 104; Meyer v. Nebraska, supra, at 402. Our problem lies in the area where students in the exercise of First Amendment rights collide with the rules of the school authorities.

II.

The problem posed by the present case does not relate to regulation of the length of skirts or the type of cloth*508ing, to hair style, or deportment. Cf. Ferrell v. Dallas Independent School District, 392 F. 2d 697 (1968); Pugsley v. Sellmeyer, 158 Ark. 247, 250 S. W. 538 (1923). It does not concern aggressive, disruptive action or even group demonstrations. Our problem involves direct, primary First Amendment rights akin to “pure speech.”

The school officials banned and sought to punish petitioners for a silent, passive expression of opinion, unaccompanied by any disorder or disturbance on the part of petitioners. There is here no evidence whatever of petitioners’ interference, actual or nascent, with the schools’ work or of collision with the rights of other students to be secure and to be let alone. Accordingly, this case does not concern speech or action that intrudes upon the work of the schools or the rights of other students.

Only a few of the 18,000 students in the school system wore the black armbands. Only five students were suspended for wearing them. There is no indication that the work of the schools or any class was disrupted. Outside the classrooms, a few students made hostile remarks to the children wearing armbands, but there were no threats or acts of violence on school premises.

The District Court concluded that the action of the school authorities was reasonable because it was based upon their fear of a disturbance from the wearing of the armbands. But, in our system, undifferentiated fear or apprehension of disturbance is not enough to overcome the right to freedom of expression. Any departure from absolute regimentation may cause trouble. Any variation from the majority’s opinion may inspire fear. Any word spoken, in class, in the lunchroom, or on the campus, that deviates from the views of another person may start an argument or cause a disturbance. But our Constitution says we must take this risk, Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U. S. 1 (1949); and our history says that it is this sort of hazardous freedom — this kind of openness — that is *509the basis of our national strength and of the independence and vigor of Americans who grow up and live in this relatively permissive, often disputatious, society.

In order for the State in the person of school officials to justify prohibition of a particular expression of opinion, it must be able to show that its action was caused by something more than a mere desire to avoid the discomfort and unpleasantness that always accompany an unpopular viewpoint. Certainly where there is no finding and no showing that engaging in the forbidden conduct would “materially and substantially interfere with the requirements of appropriate discipline in the operation of the school,” the prohibition cannot be sustained. Burnside v. Byars, supra, at 749.

In the present case, the District Court made no such finding, and our independent examination of the record fails to yield evidence that the school authorities had reason to anticipate that the wearing of the armbands would substantially interfere with the work of the school or impinge upon the rights of other students. Even an official memorandum prepared after the suspension that listed the reasons for the ban on wearing the armbands made no reference to the anticipation of such disruption.3

*510On the contrary, the action of the school authorities appears to have been based upon an urgent wish to avoid the controversy which might result from the expression, even by the silent symbol of armbands, of opposition to this Nation’s part in the conflagration in Vietnam.4 It is revealing, in this respect, that the meeting at which the school principals decided to issue the contested regulation was called in response to a student’s statement to the journalism teacher in one of the schools that he wanted to write an article on Vietnam and have it published in the school paper. (The student was dissuaded.5)

It is also relevant that the school authorities did not purport to prohibit the wearing of all symbols of political or controversial significance. The record shows that students in some of the schools wore buttons relating to national political campaigns, and some even wore the Iron Cross, traditionally a symbol of Nazism. The order prohibiting the wearing of armbands did not extend to these. Instead, a particular symbol — black armbands worn to exhibit opposition to this Nation’s involvement *511in Vietnam — was singled out for prohibition. Clearly, the prohibition of expression of one particular opinion, at least without evidence that it is necessary to avoid material and substantial interference with schoolwork or discipline, is not constitutionally permissible.

In our system, state-operated schools may not be enclaves of totalitarianism. School officials do not possess absolute authority over their students. Students in school as well as out of school are “persons” under our Constitution. They are possessed of fundamental rights which the State must respect, just as they themselves must respect their obligations to the State. In our system, students may not be regarded as closed-circuit recipients of only that which the State chooses to communicate. They may not be confined to the expression of those sentiments that are officially approved. In the absence of a specific showing of constitutionally valid reasons to regulate their speech, students are entitled to freedom of expression of their views. As Judge Gewin, speaking for the Fifth Circuit, said, school officials cannot suppress “expressions of feelings with which they do not wish to contend.” Burnside v. Byars, supra, at 749.

In Meyer v. Nebraska, supra, at 402, Mr. Justice McReynolds expressed this Nation’s repudiation of the principle that a State might so conduct its schools as to “foster a homogeneous people.” He said:

“In order to submerge the individual and develop ideal citizens, Sparta assembled the males at seven into barracks and intrusted their subsequent education and training to official guardians. Although such measures have been deliberately approved by men of great genius, their ideas touching the relation between individual and State were wholly different from those upon which our institutions rest; and it hardly will be affirmed that any legislature could impose such restrictions upon the people of a *512State without doing violence to both letter and spirit of the Constitution.”

This principle has been repeated by this Court on numerous occasions during the intervening years. In Keyishian v. Board of Regents, 385 U. S. 589, 603, Mr. Justice Brennan, speaking for the Court, said:

“ 'The vigilant protection of constitutional freedoms is nowhere more vital than in thé community of American schools.' Shelton v. Tucker, [364 U. S. 479,] at 487. The classroom is peculiarly the 'marketplace of ideas.' The Nation's future depends upon leaders trained through wide exposure to that robust exchange of ideas which discovers truth 'out of a multitude of tongues, [rather] than through any kind of authoritative selection.’ ”

The principle of these cases is not confined to the supervised and ordained discussion which takes place in the classroom. The principal use to which the schools are dedicated is to accommodate students during prescribed hours for the purpose of certain types of activities. Among those activities is personal intercommunication among the students.6 This is not only an inevitable part of the process of attending school; it is also an important part of the educational process. A student’s rights, therefore, do not embrace merely the classroom hours. When he is in the cafeteria, or on the playing field, or on *513the campus during the authorized hours, he may express his opinions, even on controversial subjects like the conflict in Vietnam, if he does so without “materially and substantially interfering] with the requirements of appropriate discipline in the operation of the school” and without colliding with the rights of others. Burnside v. Byars, supra, at 749. But conduct by the student, in class or out of it, which for any reason — whether it stems from time, place, or type of behavior — materially disrupts classwork or involves substantial disorder or invasion of the rights of others is, of course, not immunized by the constitutional guarantee of freedom of speech. Cf. Blackwell v. Issaquena County Board of Education, 363 F. 2d 749 (C. A. 5th Cir. 1966).

Under our Constitution, free speech is not a right that is given only to be so circumscribed that it exists in principle but not in fact. Freedom of expression would not truly exist if the right could be exercised only in an area that a benevolent government has provided as a safe haven for crackpots. The Constitution says that Congress (and the States) may not abridge the right to free speech. This provision means what it says. We properly read it to permit reasonable regulation of speech-connected activities in carefully restricted circumstances. But we do not confine the permissible exercise of First Amendment rights to a telephone booth or the four corners of a pamphlet, or to supervised and ordained discussion in a school classroom.

If a regulation were adopted by school officials forbidding discussion of the Vietnam conflict, or the expression by any student of opposition to it anywhere on school property except as part of a prescribed classroom exercise, it would be obvious that the regulation would violate the constitutional rights of students, at least if it could not be justified by a showing that the students’ activities would materially and substantially disrupt the work and discipline of the school. Cf. Ham*514mond v. South Carolina State College, 272 F. Supp. 947 (D. C. S. C. 1967) (orderly protest meeting on state college campus); Dickey v. Alabama State Board of Education, 273 F. Supp. 613 (D. C. M. D. Ala. 1967) (expulsion of student editor of college newspaper). In the circumstances of the present case, the prohibition of the silent, passive “witness of the armbands,” as one of the children called it, is no less offensive to the Constitution’s guarantees.

As we have discussed, the record does not demonstrate any facts which might reasonably have led school authorities to forecast substantial disruption of or material interference with school activities, and no disturbances or disorders on the school premises in fact occurred. These petitioners merely went about their ordained rounds in school. Their deviation consisted only in wearing on their sleeve a band of black cloth, not more than two inches wide. They wore it to exhibit their disapproval of the Vietnam hostilities and their advocacy of a truce, to make their views known, and, by their example, to influence others to adopt them. They neither interrupted school activities nor sought to intrude in the school affairs or the lives of others. They caused discussion outside of the classrooms, but no interference with work and no disorder. In the circumstances, our Constitution does not permit officials of the State to deny their form of expression.

We express no opinion as to the form of relief which should be granted, this being a matter for the lower courts to determine. We reverse and remand for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

Reversed and remanded.

Me. Justice Stewart,

concurring.

Although I agree with much of what is said in the Court’s opinion, and with its judgment in this case, I *515cannot share the Court’s uncritical assumption that, school discipline aside, the First Amendment rights of children are co-extensive with those of adults. Indeed, I had thought the Court decided otherwise just last Term in Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629. I continue to hold the view I expressed in that case: “[A] State may permissibly determine that, at least in some precisely delineated areas, a child — like someone in a captive audience — is not possessed of that full capacity for individual choice which is the presupposition of First Amendment guarantees.” Id., at 649-650 (concurring in result). Cf. Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158.

Me. Justice White,

concurring.

While I join the Court’s opinion, I deem it appropriate to note, first, that the Court continues to recognize a distinction between communicating by words and communicating by acts or conduct which sufficiently impinges on some valid state interest; and, second, that I do not subscribe to everything the Court of Appeals said about free speech in its opinion in Burnside v. Byars, 363 F. 2d 744, 748 (C. A. 5th Cir. 1966), a case relied upon by the Court in the matter now before us.

Mb. Justice Black,

dissenting.

The Court’s holding in this case ushers in what I deem to be an entirely new era in which the power to control pupils by the elected “officials of state supported public schools . . .” in the United States is in ultimate effect transferred to the Supreme Court.1 The Court brought *516this particular case here on a petition for certiorari urging that the First and Fourteenth Amendments protect the right of school pupils to express their political views all the way “from kindergarten through high school.” Here the constitutional right to “political expression” asserted was a right to wear black armbands during school hours and at classes in order to demonstrate to the other students that the petitioners were mourning because of the death of United States soldiers in Vietnam and to protest that war which they were against. Ordered to refrain from wearing the armbands in school by the elected school officials and the teachers vested with state authority to do so, apparently only seven out of the school system’s 18,000 pupils deliberately refused to obey the order. One defying pupil was Paul Tinker, 8 years old, who was in the second grade; another, Hope Tinker, was 11 years old and in the fifth grade; a third member of the Tinker family was 13, in the eighth grade; and a fourth member of the same family was John Tinker, 15 years old, an 11th grade high school pupil. Their father, a Methodist minister without a church, is paid a salary by the American Friends Service Committee. Another student who defied the school order and insisted on wearing an armband in school was Christopher Eckhardt, an 11th grade pupil and a petitioner in this case. His mother is an official in the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom.

As I read the Court’s opinion it relies upon the following grounds for holding unconstitutional the judgment of the Des Moines school officials and the two courts below. First, the Court concludes that the wearing of armbands is “symbolic speech” which is “akin to ‘pure speech’ ” and therefore protected by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. Secondly, the Court decides that the public schools are an appropriate place to exercise “symbolic speech” as long as normal school func*517tions are not “unreasonably” disrupted. Finally, the Court arrogates to itself, rather than to the State’s elected officials charged with running the schools, the decision as to which school disciplinary regulations are “reasonable.”

Assuming that the Court is correct in holding that the conduct of wearing armbands for the purpose of conveying political ideas is protected by the First Amendment, cf., e. g., Giboney v. Empire Storage & Ice Co., 336 U. S. 490 (1949), the crucial remaining questions are whether students and teachers may use the schools at their whim as a platform for the exercise of free speech — “symbolic” or “pure” — and whether the courts will allocate to themselves the function of deciding how the pupils’ school day will be spent. While I have always believed that under the First and Fourteenth Amendments neither the State nor the Federal Government has any authority to regulate or censor the content of speech, I have never believed that any person has a right to give speeches or engage in demonstrations where he pleases and when he pleases. This Court has already rejected such a notion. In Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 554 (1965), for example, the Court clearly stated that the rights of free speech and assembly “do not mean that everyone with opinions or beliefs to express may address a group at any public place and at any time.”

While the record does not show that any of these armband students shouted, used profane language, or were violent in any manner, detailed testimony by some of them shows their armbands caused comments, warnings by other students, the poking of fun at them, and a warning by an older football player that other, nonprotesting students had better let them alone. There is also evidence that a teacher of mathematics had his lesson period practically “wrecked” chiefly by disputes with Mary Beth Tinker, who wore her armband for her “demonstra*518tion.” Even a casual reading of the record shows.that this armband did divert students’ minds from their regular lessons, and that talk, comments, etc., made John Tinker “self-conscious” in attending school with his armband. While the absence of obscene remarks or boisterous and loud disorder perhaps justifies the Court’s statement that the few armband students did not actually “disrupt” the classwork, I think the record overwhelmingly shows that the armbands did exactly what the elected school officials and principals foresaw they would, that is, took the students’ minds off their classwork and diverted them to thoughts about the highly emotional subject of the Vietnam war. And I repeat that if the time has come when pupils of state-supported schools, kindergartens, grammar schools, or high schools, can defy and flout orders of school officials to keep their minds on their own schoolwork, it is the beginning of a new revolutionary era of permissiveness in this country fostered by the judiciary. The next logical step, it appears to me, would be to hold unconstitutional laws that bar pupils under 21 or 18 from voting, or from being elected members of the boards of education.2

The United States District Court refused to hold that the state school order violated the First and Fourteenth Amendments. 258 F. Supp. 971. Holding that the protest was akin to speech, which is protected by the First *519and Fourteenth Amendments, that court held that the school order was “reasonable” and hence constitutional. There was at one time a line of cases holding “reasonableness” as the court saw it to be the test of a “due process” violation. Two cases upon which the Court today heavily relies for striking down this school order used this test of reasonableness, Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390 (1923), and Bartels v. Iowa, 262 U. S. 404 (1923). The opinions in both cases were written by Mr. Justice McReynolds; Mr. Justice Holmes, who opposed this reasonableness test, dissented from the holdings as did Mr. Justice Sutherland. This constitutional test of reasonableness prevailed in this Court for a season. It was this test that brought on President Franklin Roosevelt’s well-known Court fight. His proposed legislation did not pass, but the fight left the “reasonableness” constitutional test dead on the battlefield, so much so that this Court in Ferguson v. Skrupa, 372 U. S. 726, 729, 730, after a thorough review of the old cases, was able to conclude in 1963:

“There was a time when the Due Process Clause was used by this Court to strike down laws which were thought unreasonable, that is, unwise or incompatible with some particular economic or social philosophy.
“The doctrine that prevailed in Lochner, Coppage, Adkins, Burns, and like cases — that due process authorizes courts to hold laws unconstitutional when they believe the legislature has acted unwisely — has long since been discarded.”

The Ferguson case totally repudiated the old reasonableness-due process test, the doctrine that judges have the power to hold laws unconstitutional upon the belief of judges that they “shock the conscience” or that they are *520“unreasonable,” “arbitrary,” “irrational,” “contrary to fundamental 'decency,’ ” or some other such flexible term without precise boundaries. I have many times expressed my opposition to that concept on the ground that it gives judges power to strike down any law they do not like. If the majority of the Court today, by agreeing to the opinion of my Brother Fortas, is resurrecting that old reasonableness-due process test, I think the constitutional change should be plainly, unequivocally, and forthrightly stated for the benefit of the bench and bar. It will be a sad day for the country, I believe, when the present-day Court returns to the McReynolds due process concept. Other cases cited by the Court do not, as implied, follow the McReynolds reasonableness doctrine. West Virginia v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, clearly rejecting the “reasonableness” test, held that the Fourteenth Amendment made the First applicable to the States, and that the two forbade a State to compel little schoolchildren to salute the United States flag when they had religious scruples against doing so.3 Neither Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88; Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359; Edwards *521v. South Carolina, 372 U. S. 229; nor Brown v. Louisiana, 383 U. S. 131, related to schoolchildren at all, and none of these cases embraced Mr. Justice McReynolds’ reasonableness test; and Thornhill, Edwards, and Brown relied on the vagueness of state statutes under scrutiny to hold them unconstitutional. Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 555, and Adderley v. Florida, 385 U. S. 39, cited by the Court as a “compare,” indicating, I suppose, that these two cases are no longer the law, were not rested to the slightest extent on the Meyer and Bartels “reasonableness-due process-McReynolds” constitutional test.

*520“The First Amendment declares that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. The Fourteenth Amendment has rendered the legislatures of the states as incompetent as Congress to enact such laws. The constitutional inhibition of legislation on the subject of religion has a double aspect. On the one hand, it forestalls compulsion by law of the acceptance of any creed or the practice of any form of worship. Freedom of conscience and freedom to adhere to such religious organization or form of worship as the individual may choose cannot be restricted by law. On the other hand, it safeguards the free exercise of the chosen form of religion. Thus the Amendment embraces two concepts,- — freedom to believe and freedom to act. The first is absolute but, in the nature of things, the second cannot be. Conduct remains subject to regulation for the protection of society.”

*521I deny, therefore, that it has been the “unmistakable holding of this Court for almost 50 years” that “students” and “teachers” take with them into the “schoolhouse gate” constitutional rights to “freedom of speech or expression.” Even Meyer did not hold that. It makes no reference to “symbolic speech” at all; what it did was to strike down as “unreasonable” and therefore unconstitutional a Nebraska law barring the teaching of the German language before the children reached the eighth grade. One can well agree with Mr. Justice Holmes and Mr. Justice Sutherland, as I do, that such a law was no more unreasonable than it would be to bar the teaching of Latin and Greek to pupils who have not reached the eighth grade. In fact, I think the majority’s reason for invalidating the Nebraska law was that it did not like it or in legal jargon that it “shocked the Court’s conscience,” “offended its sense of justice,” or was “contrary to fundamental concepts of the English-speaking world,” as the Court has sometimes said. See, e. g., Rochin v. California, 342 U. S. 165, and Irvine v. California, 347 U. S. 128. The truth is that a teacher of kindergarten, grammar school, or high school pupils no more carries into a school with him a complete right to freedom of speech and expression than an anti-Catholic or anti-Semite carries with him a complete freedom of *522speech and religion into a Catholic church or Jewish synagogue. Nor does a person carry with him into the United States Senate or House, or into the Supreme Court, or any other court, a complete constitutional right to go into those places contrary to their rules and speak his mind on any subject he pleases. It is a myth to say that any person has a constitutional right to say what he pleases, where he pleases, and when he pleases. Our Court has decided precisely the opposite. See, e. g., Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 555; Adderley v. Florida, 385 U. S. 39.

In my view, teachers in state-controlled public schools are hired to teach there. Although Mr. Justice McReyn-olds may have intimated to the contrary in Meyer v. Nebraska, supra, certainly a teacher is not paid to go into school and teach subjects the State does not hire him to teach as a part of its selected curriculum. Nor are public school students sent to the schools at public expense to broadcast political or any other views to educate and inform the public. The original idea of schools, which I do not believe is yet abandoned as worthless or out of date, was that children had not yet reached the point of experience and wisdom which enabled them to teach all of their elders. It may be that the Nation has outworn the old-fashioned slogan that “children are to be seen not heard,” but one may, I hope, be permitted to harbor the thought that taxpayers send children to school on the premise that at their age they need to learn, not teach.

The true principles on this whole subject were in my judgment spoken by Mr. Justice McKenna for the Court in Waugh v. Mississippi University in 237 U. S. 589, 596-597. The State had there passed a law barring students from peaceably assembling in Greek letter fraternities and providing that students who joined them could be expelled from school. This law would appear on the surface to run afoul of the First Amendment’s *523freedom of assembly clause. The law was attacked as violative of due process and of the privileges and immunities clause and as a deprivation of property and of liberty, under the Fourteenth Amendment. It was argued that the fraternity made its members more moral, taught discipline, and inspired its members to study harder and to obey better the rules of discipline and order. This Court rejected all the “fervid” pleas of the fraternities’ advocates and decided unanimously against these Fourteenth Amendment arguments. The Court in its next to the last paragraph made this statement which has complete relevance for us today:

“It is said that the fraternity to which complainant belongs is a moral and of itself a disciplinary force. This need not be denied. But whether such membership makes against discipline was for the State of Mississippi to determine. It is to be remembered that the University was established by the State and is under the control of the State, and the enactment of the statute may have been induced by the opinion that membership in the prohibited societies divided the attention of the students and distracted from that singleness of purpose which the State desired to exist in its public educational institutions. It is not for us to entertain conjectures in opposition to the views of the State and annul its regulations upon disputable considerations of their wisdom or necessity.” (Emphasis supplied.)

It was on the foregoing argument that this Court sustained the power of Mississippi to curtail the First Amendment’s right of peaceable assembly. And the same reasons are equally applicable to curtailing in the States’ public schools the right to complete freedom of expression. Iowa’s public schools, like Mississippi’s university, are operated to give students an opportunity to learn, not to talk politics by actual speech, or by “sym*524bolic” speech. And, as I have pointed out before, the record amply shows that public protest in the school classes against the Vietnam war “distracted from that singleness of purpose which the State [here Iowa] desired to exist in its public educational institutions.” Here the Court should accord Iowa educational institutions the same right to determine for themselves to what extent free expression should be allowed in its schools as it accorded Mississippi with reference to freedom of assembly. But even if the record were silent as to protests against the Vietnam war distracting students from their assigned class work, members of this Court, like all other citizens, know, without being told, that the disputes over the wisdom of the Vietnam war have disrupted and divided this country as few other issues ever have. Of course students, like other people, cannot concentrate on lesser issues when black armbands are being ostentatiously displayed in their presence to call attention to the wounded and dead of the war, some of the wounded and the dead being their friends and neighbors. It was, of course, to distract the attention of other students that some students insisted up to the very point of their own suspension from school that they were determined to sit in school wdth their symbolic armbands.

Change has been said to be truly the law of life but sometimes the old and the tried and true are worth holding. The schools of this Nation have undoubtedly contributed to giving us tranquility and to making us a more law-abiding people. Uncontrolled and uncontrollable liberty is an enemy to domestic peace. We cannot close our eyes to the fact that some of the country’s greatest problems are crimes committed by the youth, too many of school age. School discipline, like parental discipline, is an integral and important part of training our children to be good citizens — to be better citizens. Here a very small number of students have crisply and sum*525marily refused to obey a school order designed to give pupils who want to learn the opportunity to do so. One does not need to be a prophet or the son of a prophet to know that after the Court's holding today some students in Iowa schools and indeed in all schools will be ready, able, and willing to defy their teachers on practically all orders. This is the more unfortunate for the schools since groups of students all over the land are already running loose, conducting break-ins, sit-ins, lie-ins, and smash-ins. Many of these student groups, as is all too familiar to all who read the newspapers and watch the television news programs, have already engaged in rioting, property seizures, and destruction. They have picketed schools to force students not to cross their picket lines and have too often violently attacked earnest but frightened students who wanted an education that the pickets did not want them to get. Students engaged in such activities are apparently confident that they know far more about how to operate public school systems than do their parents, teachers, and elected school officials. It is no answer to say that the particular students here have not yet reached such high points in their demands to attend classes in order to exercise their political pressures. Turned loose with lawsuits for damages and injunctions against their teachers as they are here, it is nothing but wishful thinking to imagine that young, immature students will not soon believe it is their right to control the schools rather than the right of the States that collect the taxes to hire the teachers for the benefit of the pupils. This case, therefore, wholly without constitutional reasons in my judgment, subjects all the public schools in the country to the whims and caprices of their loudest-mouthed, but maybe not their brightest, students. I, for one, am not fully persuaded that school pupils are wise enough, even with this Court's expert help from Washington, to run the 23,390 public school *526systems4 in our 50 States. I wish, therefore, wholly to disclaim any purpose on my part to hold that the Federal Constitution compels the teachers, parents, and elected school officials to surrender control of the American public school system to public- school students. I dissent.

Mr. Justice Harlan,

dissenting.

I certainly agree that state public school authorities in the discharge of their responsibilities are not wholly exempt from the requirements of the Fourteenth Amendment respecting the freedoms of expression and association. At the same time I am reluctant to believe that there is any disagreement between the majority and myself on the proposition that school officials should be accorded the widest authority in maintaining discipline and good order in their institutions. To translate that proposition into a workable constitutional rule, I would, in cases like this, east upon those complaining the burden of showing that a particular school measure was motivated by other than legitimate school concerns — for example, a desire to prohibit the expression of an unpopular point of view, while permitting expression of the dominant opinion.

Finding nothing in this record which impugns the good faith of respondents in promulgating the armband regulation, I would affirm the judgment below.

15.17 Brandenburg v. Ohio 15.17 Brandenburg v. Ohio

395 U.S. 444
89 S.Ct. 1827
23 L.Ed.2d 430
Clarence BRANDENBURG, Appellant,

v.

State of OHIO.

No. 492.
Argued Feb. 27, 1969.
Decided June 9, 1969.

          Allen Brown, Cincinnati, Ohio, for appellant.

          Leonard Kirschner, Cincinnati, Ohio, for appellee.

           PER CURIAM.

          The appellant, a leader of a Ku Klux Klan group, was convicted under the Ohio Criminal Syndicalism statute for 'advocat(ing) * * * the duty, necessity, or propriety

Page 445

of crime, sabotage, violence, or unlawful methods of terrorism as a means of accomplishing industrial or political reform' and for 'voluntarily assembl(ing) with any society, group, or assemblage of persons formed to teach or advocate the doctrines of criminal syndicalism.' Ohio Rev. Code Ann. § 2923.13. He was fined $1,000 and sentenced to one to 10 years' imprisonment. The appellant challenged the consitutionality of the criminal syndicalism statute under the First and Fourteenth Amendments to the United States Constitution, but the intermediate appellate court of Ohio affirmed his conviction without opinion. The Supreme Court of Ohio dismissed his appeal, sua sponte, 'for the reason that no substantial constitutional question exists herein.' It did not file an opinion or explain its conclusions. Appeal was taken to this Court, and we noted probable jurisdiction. 393 U.S. 948, 89 S.Ct. 377, 21 L.Ed.2d 360 (1968). We reverse.

          The record shows that a man, identified at trial as the appellant, telephoned an announcer-reporter on the staff of a Cincinnati television station and invited him to come to a Ku Klux Klan 'rally' to be held at a farm in Hamilton County. With the cooperation of the organizers, the reporter and a cameraman attended the meeting and filmed the events. Portions of the films were later broadcast on the local station and on a national network.

          The prosecution's case rested on the films and on testimony identifying the appellant as the person who communicated with the reporter and who spoke at the rally. The State also introduced into evidence several articles appearing in the film, including a pistol, a rifle, a shotgun, ammunition, a Bible, and a red hood worn by the speaker in the films.

          One film showed 12 hooded figures, some of whom carried firearms. They were gathered around a large wooden cross, which they burned. No one was present

Page 446

other than the participants and the newsmen who made the film. Most of the words uttered during the scene were incomprehensible when the film was projected, but scattered phrases could be understood that were derogatory of Negroes and, in one instance, of Jews.1 Another scene on the same film showed the appellant, in Klan regalia, making as peech. The speech, in full, was as follows:

          'This is an organizers' meeting. We have had quite a few members here today which are—we have hundreds, hundreds of members throughout the State of Ohio. I can quote from a newspaper clipping from the Columbus, Ohio Dispatch, five weeks ago Sunday morning. The Klan has more members in the State of Ohio than does any other organization. We're not a revengent organization, but if our President, our Congress, our Supreme Court, continues to suppress the white, Caucasian race, it's possible that there might have to be some revengeance taken.

          'We are marching on Congress July the Fourth, four hundred thousand strong. From there we are dividing into two groups, one group to march on St. Augustine, Florida, the other group to march into Mississippi. Thank you.'

Page 447

          The second film showed six hooded figures one of whom, later identified as the appellant, repeated a speech very similar to that recorded on the first film. The reference to the possibility of 'revengeance' was omitted, and one sentence was added: 'Personally, I believe the nigger should be returned to Africa, the Jew returned to Israel.' Though some of the figures in the films carried weapons, the speaker did not.

          The Ohio Criminal Syndicalism Statute was enacted in 1919. From 1917 to 1920, identical or quite similar laws were adopted by 20 States and two territories. E. Dowell, A History of Criminal Syndicalism Legislation in the United States 21 (1939). In 1927, this Court sustained the constitutionality of California's Criminal Syndicalism Act, Cal. Penal Code §§ 11400—11402, the text of which is quite similar to that of the laws of Ohio. Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 47 S.Ct. 641, 71 L.Ed. 1095 (1927). The Court upheld the statute on the ground that, without more, 'advocating' violent means to effect political and economic change involves such danger to the security of the State that the State may outlaw it. Cf. Fiske v. Kansas, 274 U.S. 380, 47 S.Ct. 655, 71 L.Ed. 1108 (1927). But Whitney has been thoroughly discredited by later decisions. See Dennis v. United States, 341 U.S. 494, at 507, 71 S.Ct. 857, at 866, 95 L.Ed. 1137 (1951). These later decisions have fashioned the principle that the constitutional guarantees of free speech and free press do not permit a State to forbid or proscribe advocacy of the use of force or of law violation except where such advocacy is directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.2 As we

Page 448

said in Noto v. United States, 367 U.S. 290, 297—298, 81 S.Ct. 1517, 1520—1521, 6 L.Ed.2d 836 (1961), 'the mere abstract teaching * * * of the moral propriety or even moral necessity for a resort to force and violence, is not the same as preparing a group for violent action and steeling it to such action.' See also Herndon v. Lowry, 301 U.S. 242, 259—261, 57 S.Ct. 732, 739—740, 81 L.Ed. 1066 (1937); Bond v. Floyd, 385 U.S. 116, 134, 87 S.Ct. 339, 348, 17 L.Ed.2d 235 (1966). A statute which fails to draw this distinction impermissibly intrudes upon the freedoms guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. It sweeps within its condemnation speech which our Constitution has immunized from governmental control. Cf. Yates v. United States, 354 U.S. 298, 77 S.Ct. 1064, 1 L.Ed.2d 1356 (1957); De Jonge v. Oregon, 299 U.S. 353, 57 S.Ct. 255, 81 L.Ed. 278 (1937); Stromberg v. California, 283 U.S. 359, 51 S.Ct. 532, 75 L.Ed. 1117 (1931). See also United Stats v. Robel, 389 U.S. 258, 88 S.Ct. 419, 19 L.Ed.2d 508 (1967); Keyishian v. Board of Regents, 385 U.S. 589, 87 S.Ct. 675, 17 L.Ed.2d 629 (1967); Elfbrandt v. Russell, 384 U.S. 11, 86 S.Ct. 1238, 16 L.Ed.2d 321 (1966); Aptheker v. Secretary of State, 378 U.S. 500, 84 S.Ct. 1659, 12 L.Ed.2d 992 (1964); Baggett v. Bullitt, 377 U.S. 360, 84 S.Ct. 1316, 12 L.Ed.2d 377 (1964).

          Measured by this test, Ohio's Criminal Syndicalism Act cannot be sustained. The Act punishes persons who 'advocate or teach the duty, necessity, or propriety' of violence 'as a means of accomplishing industrial or political reform'; or who publish or circulate or display any book or paper containing such advocacy; or who 'justify' the commission of violent acts 'with intent to exemplify, spread or advocate the propriety of the doctrines of criminal syndicalism'; or who 'voluntarily assemble' with a group formed 'to teach or advocate the doctrines of criminal syndicalism.' Neither the indictment nor the trial judge's instructions to the jury in any way refined the statute's bald definition of the crime

Page 449

in terms of mere advocacy not distinguished from incitement to imminent lawless action.3

          Accordingly, we are here confronted with a statute which, by its own words and as applied, purports to punish mere advocacy and to forbid, on pain of criminal punishment, assembly with others merely to advocate the described type of action.4 Such a statute falls within the condemnation of the First and Fourteenth Amendments. The contrary teaching of Whitney v. California, supra, cannot be supported, and that decision is therefore overruled.

           Mr. Justice BLACK, concurring.

          I agree with the views expressed by Mr. Justice DOUGLAS in his concurring opinion in this case that the 'clear and present danger' doctrine should have no place

Page 450

in the interpretatio of the First Amendment. I join the Court's opinion, which, as I understand it, simply cites Dennis v. United States, 341 U.S. 494, 71 S.Ct. 857, 95 L.Ed. 1137 (1951), but does not indicate any agreement on the Court's part with the 'clear and present danger' doctrine on which Dennis purported to rely.

           Mr. Justice DOUGLAS, concurring.

          While I join the opinion of the Court, I desire to enter a caveat.

          The 'clear and present danger' test was adumbrated by Mr. Justice Holmes in a case arising during World War I—a war 'declared' by the Congress, not by the Chief Executive. The case was Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47, 52, 39 S.Ct. 247, 249, 63 L.Ed. 470, where the defendant was charged with attempts to cause insubordination in the military and obstruction of enlistment. The pamphlets that were distributed urged resistance to the draft, denounced conscription, and impugned the motives of those backing the war effort. The First Amendment was tendered as a defense. Mr. Justice Holmes in rejecting that defense said:

          'The question in every case 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. It is a question of proximity and degree.'

          Frohwerk v. United States, 249 U.S. 204, 39 S.Ct. 249, 63 L.Ed. 561, also authored by Mr. Justice Holmes, involved prosecution and punishment for publication of articles very critical of the war effort in World War I. Schenck was referred to as a conviction for obstructing security 'by words of persuasion.' Id., at 206, 39 S.Ct. at 250. And the conviction in Frohwerk was sustained because 'the circulation of the paper was

Page 451

in quarters where a little breath would be enough to kindle a flame.' Id., at 209, 39 S.Ct., at 251.

          Debs v. United States, 249 U.S. 211, 39 S.Ct. 252, 63 L.Ed. 566, was the third of the trilogy of the 1918 Term. Debs was convicted of speaking in opposition to the war where his 'opposition was so expressed that its natural and intended effect would be to obstruct recruiting.' Id., at 215, 39 S.Ct. at 253.

          'If that was intended and if, in all the circumstances, that would be its probable effect, it would not be protected by reason of its being part of a general program in expressions of a general and conscientious belief.' Ibid.

          In the 1919 Term, the Court applied the Schenck doctrine to affirm the convictions of other dissidents in World War I. Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616, 40 S.Ct. 17, 63 L.Ed. 1173, was one instance. Mr. Justice Holmes, with whom Mr. Justice Brandeis concurred, dissented. While adhering to Schenck, he did not think that on the facts a case for overriding the First Amendment had been made out:

          'It is only the present danger of immediate evil or an intent to bring it about that warrants Congress in setting a limit to the expression of opinion where private rights are not concerned. Congress certainly cannot forbid all effort to change the mind of the country.' 250 U.S., at 628, 40 S.Ct., at 21.

          Another instance was Schaefer v. United States, 251 U.S. 466, 40 S.Ct. 259, 64 L.Ed. 360, in which Mr. Justice Brandeis, joined by Mr. Justice Holmes, dissented. A third was Pierce v. United States, 252 U.S. 239, 40 S.Ct. 205, 64 L.Ed. 542, in which again Mr. Justice Brandeis, joined by Mr. Justice Holmes, dissented.

          Those, then, were the World War I cases that put the gloss of 'clear and present danger' on the First Amendment. Whether the war power—the greatest leveler of them all—is adequate to sustain that doctrine is debat-

Page 452

able. The dissents in Abrams, Schaefer, and Pierce show how easily 'clear and present danger' is manipulated to crush what Brandeis called '(t)he fundamental right of free men to strive for better conditions through new legislation and new institutions' by argument and discourse (Pierce v. United States, supra, at 273, 40 S.Ct. at 217) even in time of war. Though I doubt if the c lear and present danger' test is congenial to the First Amendment in time of a declared war, I am certain it is not reconcilable with the First Amendment in days of peace.

          The Court quite properly overrules Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 47 S.Ct. 641, 71 L.Ed. 1095, which involved advocacy of ideas which the majority of the Court deemed unsound and dangerous.

          Mr. Justice Holmes, though never formally abandoning the 'clear and present danger' test, moved closer to the First Amendment ideal when he said in dissent in Gitlow (Gitlow v. People of State of New York, 268 U.S. 652, 45 S.Ct. 626, 69 L.Ed. 1138):

          'Every idea is an incitement. It offers itself for belief and if believed it is acted on unless some other belief outweighs it or some failure of energy stifles the movement at its birth. The only difference between the expression of an opinion and an incitement in the narrower sense is the speaker's enthusiasm for the result. Eloquence may set fire to reason. But whatever may be thought of the redundant discourse before us it had no chance of starting a present conflagration. If in the long run the beliefs expressed in proletarian dictatorship are destined to be accepted by the dominant forces of the community, the only meaning of free speech is that they should be given their chance and have their way.'

          We have never been faithful to the philosophy of that dissent.

Page 453

          The Court in Herndon v. Lowry, 301 U.S. 242, 57 S.Ct. 732, 81 L.Ed. 1066, overturned a conviction for exercising First Amendment rights to incite insurrection because of lack of evidence of incitement. Id., at 259—261, 57 S.Ct., at 739—740. And see Hartzel v. United States, 322 U.S. 680, 64 S.Ct. 1233, 88 L.Ed. 1534. In Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 261—263, 62 S.Ct. 190, 192 194, 86 L.Ed. 192, we approved the 'clear and present danger' test in an elaborate dictum that tightened it and confined it to a narrow category. But in Dennis v. United States, 341 U.S. 494, 71 S.Ct. 857, 95 L.Ed. 1137, we opened wide the door, distorting the 'clear and present danger' test beyond recognition.1

          In that case the prosecution dubbed an agreement to teach the Marxist creed a 'conspiracy.' The case was submitted to a jury on a charge that the jury could not convict unless it found that the defendants 'intended to overthrow the Government 'as speedily as circumstances would permit." Id., at 509—511, 71 S.Ct., at 867. The Court sustained convictions under the charge, construing it to mean a determination of "whether the gravity of the 'evil,' discounted by its improbability, justifies such invasion of free speech as is necessary to avoid the danger."2 Id., at 510, 71 S.Ct., at 868, quoting from United States v. Dennis, 183 F.2d 201, 212.

          Out of the 'clear and present danger' test came other offspring. Advocacy and teaching of forcible overthrow of government as an abstract principle is immune from prosecution. Yates v. United States, 354 U.S. 298, 318, 77 S.Ct. 1064, 1076, 1 L.Ed.2d 1356. But an 'active' member, who has a guilty knowledge and intent of the aim to overthrow the Government

Page 454

by violence, Noto v. United States, 367 U.S. 290, 81 S.Ct. 1517, 6 L.Ed.2d 836, may be prosecuted. Scales v. United States, 367 U.S. 203, 228, 81 S.Ct. 1469, 1485, 6 L.Ed.2d 782. And the power to investigate, backed by the powerful sanction of contempt, includes the power to determine which of the two categories fits the particular witness. Barenblatt v. United States, 360 U.S. 109, 130, 79 S.Ct. 1081, 1094, 3 L.Ed.2d 1115. And so the investigator roams at will through all of the beliefs of the witness, ransacking his conscience and his innermost thoughts.

          JudgeL earned Hand, who wrote for the Court of Appeals in affirming the judgment in Dennis, coined the 'not improbable' test, United States v. Dennis, 2 Cir., 183 F.2d 201, 214, which this Court adopted and which Judge Hand preferred over the 'clear and present danger' test. Indeed, in his book, The Bill of Rights 59 (1958), in referring to Holmes' creation of the 'clear and present danger' test, he said, 'I cannot help thinking that for once Homer nodded.'

          My own view is quite different. I see no place in the regime of the First Amendment for any 'clear and present danger' test, whether strict and tight as some would make it, or free-wheeling as the Court in Dennis rephrased it.

          When one reads the opinions closely and sees when and how the 'clear and present danger' test has been applied, great misgivings are aroused. First, the threats were often loud but always puny and made serious only by judges so wedded to the status quo that critical analysis made them nervous. Second, the test was so twisted and perverted in Dennis as to make the trial of those teachers of Marxism an all-out political trial which was part and parcel of the cold war that has eroded substantial parts of the First Amendment.

          Action is often a method of expression and within the protection of the First Amendment.

Page 455

          Suppose one tears up his own copy of the Constitution in eloquent protest to a decision of this Court. May he be indicted?

          Suppose one rips his own Bible to shreds to celebrate his departure from one 'faith' and his embrace of atheism. May he be indicted?

          Last Term the Court held in United States v. O'Brien, 391 U.S. 367, 382, 88 S.Ct. 1673, 1682, 20 L.Ed.2d 672, that a registrant under Selective Service who burned his draft card in protest of the war in Vietnam could be prosecuted. The First Amendment was tendered as a defense and rejected, the Court saying:

          'The issuance of certificates indicating the registration and eligibility classification of individuals is a legitimate and substantial administrative aid in the functioning of this system. And legislation to insure the continuing availability of issued certificates serves a legitimate and substantial purpose in the system's administration.' 391 U.S., at 377 378, 88 S.Ct., at 1679.

          But O'Brien was not prosecuted for not having his draft card available when asked for by a federal agent. He was indicted, tried and convicted for burning the card. And this Court's affirmance of that conviction was not, with all respect, consistent with the First Amendment.

          The act of praying often involves body posture and movement as well as utterances. It is nonetheless protected by the Free Exercise Clause. Picketing, as we have said on numerous occasions, is 'free speech plus.' See Bakery and Pastry Drivers and Helpers Local 802 of International Brotherhood of Teamsters v. Wohl, 315 U.S. 769, 775, 62 S.Ct. 816, 819, 86 L.Ed. 1178 (Douglas, J., concurring); Giboney v. Empire Storage Co., 336 U.S. 490, 501, 69 S.Ct. 684, 690, 93 L.Ed. 834; Hughes v. Superior Court, 339 U.S. 460, 465, 70 S.Ct. 718, 721, 94 L.Ed. 985; National Labor Relations Board v. Fruit and Vegetable Packers, 377 U.S. 58, 77, 84 S.Ct. 1063, 1073, 12 L.Ed.2d 129 (Black, J., concurring), and id., at 93, 84 S.Ct. at 1081 (Harlan, J., dissenting); Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 559, 578, 85 S.Ct. 466, 468, 476, 13 L.Ed.2d 487 (opinion of Black, J.); Amalgamated Food Employees v. Logan Plaza, 391 U.S. 308, 326, 88 S.Ct. 1601, 1612, 20 L.Ed.2d 603 (Douglas, J., concurring). That means that it can be regulated when it comes to the 'plus' or 'action' side of the protest. It can be regulated as to

Page 456

the number of pickets and the place and hours (see Cox v. Louisiana, supra), because traffic and other community problems would otherwise suffer.

          But none of these considerations are implicated in the symbolic protest of the Vietnam war in the burning of a draft card.

          One's beliefs have long been thought to be sanctuaries which government could not invade. Br enblatt is one example of the ease with which that sanctuary can be violated. The lines drawn by the Court between the criminal act of being an 'active' Communist and the innocent act of being a nominal or inactive Communist mark the difference only between deep and abiding belief and casual or uncertain belief. But I think that all matters of belief are beyond the reach of subpoenas or the probings of investigators. That is why the invasions of privacy made by investigating committees were notoriously unconstitutional. That is the deep-seated fault in the infamous loyalty-security hearings which, since 1947 when President Truman launched them, have processed 20,000,000 men and women. Those hearings were primarily concerned with one's thoughts, ideas, beliefs, and convictions. They were the most blatant violations of the First Amendment we have ever known.

          The line between what is permissible and not subject to control and what may be made impermissible and subject to regulation is the line between ideas and overt acts.

          The example usually given by those who would punish speech is the case of one who falsely shouts fire in a crowded theatre.

          This is, however, a classic case where speech is brigaded with action. See Speiser v. Randall, 357 U.S. 513, 536—537, 78 S.Ct. 1332, 1346, 2 L.Ed.2d 1460 (Douglas, J., concurring.) They are indeed inseparable and a prosecution can be launched for the overt

Page 457

acts actually caused. Apart from rare instances of that kind, speech is, I think, immune from prosecution. Certainly there is no constitutional line between advocacy of abstract ideas as in Yates and advocacy of political action as in Scales. The quality of advocacy turns on the depth of the conviction; and government has no power to invade that sanctuary of belief and conscience.3

1. The significant portions that could be understood were:

'How far is the nigger going to—yeah.'

'This is what we are going to do to the niggers.'

'A dirty nigger.'

'Send the Jews back to Israel.'

'Let's give them back to the dark garden.'

'Save America.'

'Let's go back to constitutional betterment.'

'Bury the niggers.'

'We intend to do our part.'

'Give us our state rights.'

'Freedom for the whites.'

'Nigger will have to fight for every inch he gets from now on.'

2. It was on the theory that the Smith Act, 54 Stat. 670, 18 U.S.C. § 2385, embodied such a principle and that it had been applied only in conformity with it that this Court sustained the Act's constitutionality. Dennis v. United States, 341 U.S. 494, 71 S.Ct. 857, 95 L.Ed. 1137 (1951). That this was the basis for Dennis was emphasized in Yates v. United States, 354 U.S. 298, 320 324, 77 S.Ct. 1064, 1077—1079, 1 L.Ed.2d 1356 (1957), in which the Court overturned convictions for advocacy of the forcible overthrow of the Government under the Smith Act, because the trial judge's instructions had allowed conviction for mere advocacy, unrelated to its tendency to produce forcible action.

3. The first count of the indictment charged that appellant 'did unlawfully by word of mouth advocate the necessity, or propriety of crime, violence, or unlawful methods of terrorism as a means of accomplishing political reform * * *.' The second count charged that appellant 'did unlawfully voluntarily assemble with a group or assemblage of persons formed to advocate the doctrines of criminal syndicalism * * *.' The trial judge's charge merely followed the language of the indictment. No construction of the statute by the Ohio courts has brought it within constitutionally permissible limits. The Ohio Supreme Court has considered the statute in only one previous case, State v. Kassay, 126 Ohio St. 177, 184 N.E. 521 (1932), where the constitutionality of the statute was sustained.

4. Statutes affecting the right of assembly, like those touching on freedom of speech, must observe the established distinctions between mere advocacy and incitement to imminent lawless action, for as Chief Justice Hughes wrote in De Jonge v. Oregon, supra, 299 U.S. at 364, 57 S.Ct. at 260: 'The right of peaceable assembly is a right cognate to those of free speech and free press and is equally fundamental.' See also United States v. Cruikshank, 92 U.S. 542, 552, 23 L.Ed. 588 (1876); Hague v. CIO, 307 U.S. 496, 513, 519, 59 S.Ct. 954, 963, 965, 83 L.Ed. 1423 (1939); NAACP v. Alabama ex rel. Patterson, 357 U.S. 449, 460—461, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 1170—1171, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488 (1958).

1. See McKay, The Preference For Freedom, 34 N.Y.U.L.Rev. 1182, 1203—1212 (1959).

2. See Feiner v. New York, 340 U.S. 315, 71 S.Ct. 303, 95 L.Ed. 295, where a speaker was arrested for arousing an audience when the only 'clear and present danger' was that the hecklers in the audience would break up the meeting.

3. See Mr. Justice Black, dissenting, in American Communications Assn. C.I.O. v. Douds, 339 U.S. 382, 446, 449, 70 S.Ct. 674, 707, 709, 94 L.Ed. 925 et seq.

15.18 Cohen v. California 15.18 Cohen v. California

403 U.S. 15
91 S.Ct. 1780
29 L.Ed.2d 284
Paul Robert COHEN, Appellant,

v.

State of CALIFORNIA.

No. 299.
Argued Feb. 22, 1971.
Decided June 7, 1971.

          Syllabus

          Appellant was convicted of violating that part of Cal. Penal Code § 415 which prohibits 'maliciously and willfully disturb(ing) the peace or quiet of any neighborhood or person * * * by * * * offensive conduct,' for wearing a jacket bearing the words 'Fuck the Draft' in a corridor of the Los Angeles Courthouse. The Court of Appeal held that 'offensive conduct' means 'behavior which has a tendency to provoke others to acts of violence or to in turn disturb the peace,' and affirmed the conviction. Held: Absent a more particularized and compelling reason for its actions, the State may not, consistently with the First and Fourteenth Amendments, make the simple public display of this single four-letter expletive a criminal offense. Pp. 22—26.

          1 Cal.App.3d 94, 81 Cal.Rptr. 503, reversed.

          Melville B. Nimmer, Los Angeles, Cal., for appellant.

          Michael T. Sauer, Los Angeles, Cal., for appellee.

           Mr. Justice HARLAN delivered the opinion of the Court.

          This case may seem at first blush too inconsequential to find its way into our books, but the issue it presents is of no small constitutional significance.

Page 16

          Appellant Paul Robert Cohen was convicted in the Los Angeles Municipal Court of violating that part of California Penal Code § 415 which prohibits 'maliciously and willfully disturb(ing) the peace or quiet of any neighborhood or person * * * by * * * offensive conduct * * *.'1 He was given 30 days' imprisonment. The facts upon which his conviction rests are detailed in the opinion of the Court of Appeal of California, Second Appellate District, as follows:

          'On April 26, 1968, the defendant was observed in the Los Angeles County Courthouse in the corridor outside of division 20 of the municipal court wearing a jacket bearing the words 'Fuck the Draft' which were plainly visible. There were women and children present in the corridor. The defendant was arrested. The defendant testified that he wore the jacket knowing that the words were on the jacket as a means of informing the public of the depth of his feelings against the Vietnam War and the draft.

          'The defendant did not engage in, nor threaten to engage in, nor did anyone as the result of his conduct

Page 17

          in fact commit or threaten to commit any act of violence. The defendant did not make any loud or unusual noise, nor was there any evidence that he uttered any sound prior to his arrest.' 1 Cal.App.3d 94, 97—98, 81 Cal.Rptr. 503, 505 (1969).

          In affirming the conviction the Court of Appeal held that 'offensive conduct' means 'behavior which has a tendency to provoke others to acts of violence or to in turn disturb the peace,' and that the State had proved this element because, on the facts of this case, '(i)t was certainly reasonably foreseeable that such conduct might cause others to rise up to commit a violent act against the person of the defendant or attempt to forceably remove his jacket.' 1 Cal.App.3d, at 99—100, 81 Cal.Rptr., at 506. The California Supreme Court declined review by a divided vote.2 We brought the case here, postponing the consideration of the question of our jurisdiction over this appeal to a hearing of the case on the merits. 399 U.S. 904, 90 S.Ct. 2211, 26 L.Ed.2d 558. We now reverse.

          The question of our jurisdiction need not detain us long. Throughout the proceedings below, Cohen con-

Page 18

sistently claimed that, as construed to apply to the facts of this case, the statute infringed his rights to freedom of expression guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the Federal Constitution. That contention has been rejected by the highest California state court in which review could be had. Accordingly, we are fully satisfied that Cohen has properly invoked our jurisdiction by this appeal. 28 U.S.C. § 1257(2); Dahnke-Walker Milling Co. v. Bondurant, 257 U.S. 282, 42 S.Ct. 106, 66 L.Ed. 239 (1921).

I

          In order to lay hands on the precise issue which this case involves, it is useful first to canvass various matters which this record does not present.

          The conviction quite clearly rests upon the asserted offensiveness of the words Cohen used to convey his message to the public. The only 'conduct' which the State sought to punish is the fact of communication. Thus, we deal here with a conviction resting solely upon 'speech,' cf. Stromberg v. California, 283 U.S. 359, 51 S.Ct. 532, 75 L.Ed. 1117 (1931), not upon any separately identifiable conduct which allegedly was intended by Cohen to be perceived by others as expressive of particular views but which, on its face, does not necessarily convey any message and hence arguably could be regulated without effectively repressing Cohen's ability to express himself. Cf. United States v. O'Brien, 391 U.S. 367, 88 S.Ct. 1673, 20 L.Ed.2d 672 (1968). Further, the State certainly lacks power to punish Cohen for the underlying content of the message the inscription conveyed. At least so long as there is no showing of an intent to incite disobedience to or disruption of the draft, Cohen could not, consistently with the First and Fourteenth Amendments, be punished for asserting the evident position on the inutility or immorality of the draft his jacket reflected. Yates v. United States, 354 U.S. 298, 77 S.Ct. 1064, 1 L.Ed.2d 1356 (1957).

Page 19

          Appellant's conviction, then, rests squarely upon his exercise of the 'freedom of speech' protected from arbitrary governmental interference by the Constitution and can be justified, if at all, only as a valid regulation of the manner in which he exercised that freedom, not as a permissible prohibition on the substantive message it conveys. This does not end the inquiry, of course, for the First and Fourteenth Amendments have never been thought to give absolute protection to every individual to speak whenever or wherever he pleases or to use any form of address in any circumstances that he chooses. In this vein, too, however, we think it important to note that several issues typically associated with such problems are not presented here.

          In the first place, Cohen was tried under a statute applicable throughout the entire State. Any attempt to support this conviction on the ground that the statute seeks to preserve an appropriately decorous atmosphere in the courthouse where Cohen was arrested must fail in the absence of any language in the statute that would have put appellant on notice that certain kinds of otherwise permissible speech or conduct would nevertheless, under California law, not be tolerated in certain places. See Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U.S. 229, 236—237, 83 S.Ct. 680, 683—684, 9 L.Ed.2d 697, and n. 11 (1963). Cf. Adderley v. Florida, 385 U.S. 39, 87 S.Ct. 242, 17 L.Ed.2d 149 (1966). No fair reading of the phrase 'offensive conduct' can be said sufficiently to inform the ordinary person that distinctions between certain locations are thereby created.3

          In the second place, as it comes to us, this case cannot be said to fall within those relatively few categories of

Page 20

instances where prior decisions have established the power of government to deal more comprehensively with certain forms of individual expression simply upon a showing that such a form was employed. This is not, for example, an obscenity case. Whatever else may be necessary to give rise to the States' broader power to prohibit obscene expression, such expression must be, in some significant way, erotic. Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957). It cannot plausibly be maintained that this vulgar allusion to the Selective Service System would conjure up such psychic stimulation in anyone likely to be confronted with Cohen's crudely defaced jacket.

          This Court has also held that the States are free to ban the simple use, without a demonstration of additional justifying circumstances, of so-called 'fighting words,' those personally abusive epithets which, when addressed to the ordinary citizen, are, as a matter of common knowledge, inherently likely to provoke violent reaction. Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1031 (1942). While the four-letter word displayed by Cohen in relation to the draft is not uncommonly employed in a personally provocative fashion, in this instance it was clearly not 'directed to the person of the hearer.' Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U.S. 296, 309, 60 S.Ct. 900, 906, 84 L.Ed. 1213 (1940). No individual actually or likely to be present could reasonably have regarded the words on appellant's jacket as a direct personal insult. Nor do we have here an instance of the exercise of the State's police power to prevent a speaker from intentionally provoking a given group to hostile reaction. Cf. Feiner v. New York, 340 U.S. 315, 71 S.Ct. 303, 95 L.Ed. 295 (1951); Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U.S. 1, 69 S.Ct. 894, 93 L.Ed. 1131 (1949). There is, as noted above, no showing that anyone who saw Cohen was in fact violently aroused or that appellant intended such a result.

Page 21

          Finally, in arguments before this Court much has been made of the claim that Cohen's distasteful mode of expression was thrust upon unwilling or unsuspecting viewers, and that the State might therefore legitimately act as it did in order to protect the sensitive from otherwise unavoidable exposure to appellant's crude form of protest. Of course, the mere presumed presence of unwitting listeners or viewers does not serve automatically to justify curtailing all speech capable of giving offense. See, e.g., Organization for a Better Austin v. Keefe, 402 U.S. 415, 91 S.Ct. 1575, 29 L.Ed.2d 1 (1971). While this Court has recognized that government may properly act in many situations to prohibit intrusion into the privacy of the home of unwelcome views and ideas which cannot be totally banned from the public dialogue, e.g., Rowan v. United States Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728, 90 S.Ct. 1484, 25 L.Ed.2d 736 (1970), we have at the same time consistently stressed that 'we are often 'captives' outside the sanctuary of the home and subject to objectionable speech.' Id., at 738, 90 S.Ct., at 1491. The ability of government, consonant with the Constitution, to shut off discourse solely to protect others from hearing it is, in other words, dependent upon a showing that substantial privacy interests are being invaded in an essentially intolerable manner. Any broader view of this authority would effectively empower a majority to silence dissidents simply as a matter of personal predilections.

          In this regard, persons confronted with Cohen's jacket were in a quite different posture than, say, those subjected to the raucous emissions of sound trucks blaring outside their residences. Those in the Los Angeles courthouse could effectively avoid further bombardment of their sensibilities simply by averting their eyes. And, while it may be that one has a more substantial claim to a recognizable privacy interest when walking through a courthouse corridor than, for example, strolling through Central Park, surely it is nothing like the interest in

Page 22

being free from unwanted expression in the confines of one's own home. Cf. Keefe, supra. Given the subtlety and complexity of the factors involved, if Cohen's 'speech' was otherwise entitled to constitutional protection, we do not think the fact that some unwilling 'listeners' in a public building may have been briefly exposed to it can serve to justify this breach of the peace conviction where, as here, there was no evidence that persons powerless to avoid appellant's conduct did in fact object to it, and where that portion of the statute upon which Cohen's conviction rests evinces no concern, either on its face or as construed by the California courts, with the special plight of the captive auditor, but, instead, indiscriminately sweeps within its prohibitions all 'offensive conduct' that disturbs 'any neighborhood or person.' Cf. Edwards v. South Carolina, supra. 4

II

          Against this background, the issue flushed by this case stands out in bold relief. It is whether California can excise, as 'offensive conduct,' one particular scurrilous epithet from the public discourse, either upon the theory of the court below that its use is inherently likely to cause violent reaction or upon a more general assertion that the States, acting as guardians of public morality,

Page 23

may properly remove this offensive word from the public vocabulary.

          The rationale of the California court is plainly untenable. At most it reflects an 'undifferentiated fear or apprehension of disturbance (which) is not enough to overcome the right to freedom of expression.' Tinker v. Des Moines Indep. Community School Dist., 393 U.S. 503, 508, 89 S.Ct. 733, 737, 21 L.Ed.2d 731 (1969). We have been shown no evidence that substantial numbers of citizens are standing ready to strike out physically at whoever may assault their sensibilities with execrations like that uttered by Cohen. There may be some persons about with such lawless and violent proclivities, but that is an insufficient base upon which to erect, consistently with constitutional values, a governmental power to force persons who wish to ventilate their dissident views into avoiding particular forms of expression. The argument amounts to little more than the self-defeating proposition that to avoid physical censorship of one who has not sought to provoke such a response by a hypothetical coterie of the violent and lawless, the States may more appropriately effectuate that censorship themselves. Cf. Ashton v. Kentucky, 384 U.S. 195, 200, 86 S.Ct. 1407, 1410, 16 L.Ed.2d 469 (1966); Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 536, 550—551, 85 S.Ct. 453, 462—463, 13 L.Ed.2d 471 (1965).

          Admittedly, it is not so obvious that the First and Fourteenth Amendments must be taken to disable the States from punishing public utterance of this unseemly expletive in order to maintain what they regard as a suitable level of discourse within the body politic.5 We

Page 24

think, however, that examination and reflection will reveal the shortcomings of a contrary viewpoint.

          At the outset, we cannot overemphasize that, in our judgment, most situations where the State has a justifiable interest in regulating speech will fall within one or more of the various established exceptions, discussed above but not applicable here, to the usual rule that governmental bodies may not prescribe the form or content of individual expression. Equally important to our conclusion is the constitutional backdrop against which our decision must be made. The constitutional right of free expression is powerful medicine in a society as diverse and populous as ours. It is designed and intended to remove governmental restraints from the arena of public discussion, putting the decision as to what views shall be voiced largely into the hands of each of us, in the hope that use of such freedom will ultimately produce a more capable citizenry and more perfect polity and in the belief that no other approach would comport with the premise of individual dignity and choice upon which our political system rests. See Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 375—377, 47 S.Ct. 641, 648 649, 71 L.Ed. 1095 (1927) (Brandeis, J., concurring).

          To many, the immediate consequence of this freedom may often appear to be only verbal tumult, discord, and

Page 25

even offensive utterance. These are, however, within established limits, in truth necessary side effects of the broader enduring values which the process of open debate permits us to achieve. That the air may at times seem filled with verbal cacophony is, in this sense not a sign of weakness but of strength. We cannot lose sight of the fact that, in what otherwise might seem a trifling and annoying instance of individual distasteful abuse of a privilege, these fundamental societal values are truly implicated. That is why '(w)holly neutral futilities * * * come under the protection of free speech as fully as do Keats' poems or Donne's sermons,' Winters v. New York, 333 U.S. 507, 528, 68 S.Ct. 665, 676, 92 L.Ed. 840 (1948) (Frankfurter, J., dissenting), and why 'so long as the means are peaceful, the communication need not meet standards of acceptability,' Organization for a Better Austin v. Keefe, 402 U.S. 415, 91 S.Ct. 1575, 29 L.Ed.2d 1 (1971).

          Against this perception of the constitutional policies involved, we discern certain more particularized considerations that peculiarly call for reversal of this conviction. First, the principle contended for by the State seems inherently boundless. How is one to distinguish this from any other offensive word? Surely the State has no right to cleanse public debate to the point where it is grammatically palatable to the most squeamish among us. Yet no readily ascertainable general principle exists for stopping short of that result were we to affirm the judgment below. For, while the particular four-letter word being litigated here is perhaps more distasteful than most others of its genre, it is nevertheless often true that one man's vulgarity is another's lyric. Indeed, we think it is largely because governmental officials cannot make principled distinctions in this area that the Constitution leaves matters of taste and style so largely to the individual.

          Additionally, we cannot overlook the fact, because it

Page 26

is well illustrated by the episode involved here, that much linguistic expression serves a dual communicative function: it conveys not only ideas capable of relatively precise, detached explication, but otherwise inexpressible emotions as well. In fact, words are often chosen as much for their emotive as their cognitive force. We cannot sanction the view that the Constitution, while solicitous of the cognitive content of individual speech has little or no regard for that emotive function which practically speaking, may often be the more important element of the overall message sought to be communicated. Indeed, as Mr. Justice Frankfurter has said, '(o)ne of the prerogatives of American citizenship is the right to criticize public men and measures—and that means not only informed and responsible criticism but the freedom to speak foolishly and without moderation.' Baumgartner v. United States, 322 U.S. 665, 673—674, 64 S.Ct. 1240, 1245, 88 L.Ed. 1525 (1944).

          Finally, and in the same vein, we cannot indulge the facile assumption that one can forbid particular words without also running a substantial risk of suppressing ideas in the process. Indeed, governments might soon seize upon the censorship of particular words as a convenient guise for banning the expression of unpopular views. We have been able, as noted above, to discern little social benefit that might result from running the risk of opening the door to such grave results.

          It is, in sum, our judgment that, absent a more particularized and compelling reason for its actions, the State may not, consistently with the First and Fourteenth Amendments, make the simple public display here involved of this single four-letter expletive a criminal offense. Because that is the only arguably sustainable rationale for the conviction here at issue, the judgment below must be reversed.

          Reversed.

Page 27

           Mr. Justice BLACKMUN, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE and Mr. Justice BLACK join.

          I dissent, and I do so for two reasons:

          1. Cohen's absurd and immature antic, in my view, was mainly conduct and little speech. See Street v. New York, 394 U.S. 576, 89 S.Ct. 1354, 22 L.Ed.2d 572 (1969); Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 536, 555, 85 S.Ct. 453, 464, 13 L.Ed.2d 471 (1965); Giboney v. Empire Storage & Ice Co., 336 U.S. 490, 502, 69 S.Ct. 684, 690, 93 L.Ed. 834 (1949). The California Court of Appeal appears so to have described it, 1 Cal.App.3d 94, 100, 81 Cal.Rptr. 503, 507, and I cannot characterize it otherwise. Further, the case appears to me to be well within the sphere of Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1031 (1942), where Mr. Justice Murphy, a known champion of First Amendment freedoms, wrote for a unanimous bench. As a consequence, this Court's agonizing over First Amendment values seem misplaced and unnecessary.

          2. I am not at all certain that the California Court of Appeal's construction of § 415 is now the authoritative California construction. The Court of Appeal filed its opinion on October 22, 1969. The Supreme Court of California declined review by a four-to-three vote on December 17. See 1 Cal.App.3d, at 104, 81 Cal.Rptr., at 503. A month later, on January 27, 1970, the State Supreme Court in another case construed § 415, evidently for the first time. In re Bushman, 1 Cal.3d 767, 83 Cal.Rptr. 375, 463 P.2d 727. Chief Justice Traynor, who was among the dissenters to his court's refusal to take Cohen's case, wrote the majority opinion. He held that § 415 'is not unconstitutionally vague and overbroad' and further said:

          '(T)hat part of Penal Code section 415 in question here makes punishable only wilful and malicious conduct that is violent and endangers public safety and order or that creates a clear and present danger that others will engage in violence of that nature.

Page 28

          '* * * (It) does not make criminal any nonviolent act unless the act incites or threatens to incite others to violence * * *.' 1 Cal.3d, at 773—774, 83 Cal.Rptr., at 379, 463 P.2d, at 731.

          Cohen was cited in Bushman, 1 Cal.3d, at 773, 83 Cal.Rptr., at 378, 463 P.2d, at 730, but I am not convinced that its description there and Cohen itself are completely consistent with the 'clear and present danger' standard enunciated in Bushman. Inasmuch as this Court does not dismiss this case, it ought to be remanded to the California Court of Appeal for reconsideration in the light of the subsequently rendered decision by the State's highest tribunal in Bushman.

          Mr. Justice WHITE concurs in Paragraph 2 of Mr. Justice BLACKMUN'S dissenting opinion.

1. The statute provides in full:

'Every person who maliciously and willfully disturbs the peace or quiet of any neighborhood or person, by loud or unusual noise, or by tumultuous or offensive conduct, or threatening, traducing, quarreling, challenging to fight, or fighting, or who, on the public streets of any unincorporated town, or upon the public highways in such unincorporated town, run any horse race, either for a wager of for amusement, or fire any gun or pistol in such unincorporated town, or use any vulgar, profane, or indecent language within the presence or hearing of women or children, in a loud and boisterous manner, is guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction by any Court of competent jurisdiction shall be punished by fine not exceeding two hundred dollars, or by imprisonment in the County Jail for not more than ninety days, or by both fine and imprisonment, or either, at the discretion of the Court.'

2. The suggestion has been made that, in light of the supervening opinion of the California Supreme Court in In re Bushman, 1 Cal.3d 767, 83 Cal.Rptr. 375, 463 P.2d 727 (1970), it is 'not at all certain that the California Court of Appeal's construction of § 415 is now the authoritative California construction.' Post, at 27 (BLACKMUN, J., dissenting). In the course of the Bushman opinion, Chief Justice Traynor stated:

'(One may) * * * be guilty of disturbing the peace through 'offensive' conduct (within the meaning of § 415) if by his actions he wilfully and maliciously incites others to violence or engages in conduct likely to incite others to violence. (People v. Cohen (1969) 1 Cal.App.3d 94, 101, 81 Cal.Rptr. 503.)' 1 Cal.3d, at 773, 463 P.2d, at 730.

We perceive no difference of substance between the Bushman construction and that of the Court of Appeal, particularly in light of the Bushman court's approving citation of Cohen.

3. It is illuminating to note what transpired when Cohen entered a courtroom in the building. He removed his jacket and stood with it folder over his arm. Meanwhile, a policeman sent the presiding judge a note suggesting that Cohen be held in contempt of court. The judge declined to do so and Cohen was arrested by the officer only after he emerged from the courtroom. App. 18—19.

4. In fact, other portions of the same statute do make some such distinctions. For example, the statute also prohibits disturbing 'the peace or quiet * * * by loud or unusual noise' and using 'vulgar, profane, or indecent language within the presence or hearing of women or children, in a loud and boisterous manner.' See n. 1, supra. This secondquoted provision in particular serves to put the actor on much fairer notice as to what is prohibited. It also buttresses our view that the 'offensive conduct' portion, as construed and applied in this case, cannot legitimately be justified in this Court as designed or intended to make fine distinctions between differently situated recipients.

5. The amicus urges, with some force, that this issue is not properly before us since the statute, as construed, punishes only conduct that might cause others to react violently. However, because the opinion below appears to erect a virtually irrebuttable presumption that use of this word will produce such results, the statute as thus construed appears to impose, in effect, a flat ban on the public utterance of this word. With the case in this posture, it does not seem inappropriate to inquire whether any other rationale might properly support this result. While we think it clear, for the reasons expressed above, that no statute which merely proscribes 'offensive conduct' and has been construed as broadly as this one was below can subsequently be justified in this Court as discriminating between conduct that occurs in different places or that offends only certain persons, it is not so unreasonable to seek to justify its full broad sweep on an alternate rationale such as this. Because it is not so patently clear that acceptance of the justification presently under consideration would render the statute overbroad or unconstitutionally vague, and because the answer to appellee's argument seems quite clear, we do not pass on the contention that this claim is not presented on this record.

15.19 New York Times Co. v. United States 15.19 New York Times Co. v. United States

403 U.S. 713
91 S.Ct. 2140
29 L.Ed.2d 822
NEW YORK TIMES COMPANY, Petitioner,

v.

UNITED STATES. UNITED STATES, Petitioner, v. The WASHINGTON POST COMPANY et al.

Nos. 1873, 1885.
Argued June 26, 1971.
Decided June 30, 1971.

          Sol. Gen. Erwin N. Griswold, for the United States.

          Alexander M. Bickel, New Haven, Conn., for the New York Times.

          William R. Glendon, Washington, D.C., for the Washington Post Co.

Page 714

           PER CURIAM.

          We granted certiorari, 403 U.S. 942, 943, 91 S.Ct. 2270, 2271, 29 L.Ed.2d 853 (1971) in these cases in which the United States seeks to enjoin the New York Times and the Washington Post from publishing the contents of a classified study entitled 'History of U.S. Decision-Making Process on Viet Nam Policy.'

          'Any system of prior restraints of expression comes to this Court bearing a heavy presumption against its constitutional validity.' Bantam Books, Inc. v. Sullivan, 372 U.S. 58, 70, 83 S.Ct. 631, 639, 9 L.Ed.2d 584 (1963); see also Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 51 S.Ct. 625, 75 L.Ed. 1357 (1931). The Government 'thus carries a heavy burden of showing justification for the imposition of such a restraint.' Organization for a Better Austin v. Keefe, 402 U.S. 415, 419, 91 S.Ct. 1575, 1578, 29 L.Ed.2d 1 (1971). The District Court for the Southern District of New York in the New York Times case, 328 F.Supp. 324, and the District Court for the District of Columbia and the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, 446 F.2d 1327, in the Washington Post case held that the Government had not met that burden. We agree.

          The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit is therefore affirmed. The order of the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit is reversed, 444 F.2d 544, and the case is remanded with directions to enter a judgment affirming the judgment of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. The stays entered June 25, 1971, by the Court are vacated. The judgments shall issue forthwith.

          So ordered.

          Judgment of the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit affirmed; order of the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit reversed and case remanded with directions.

           Mr. Justice BLACK, with whom Mr. Justice DOUGLAS joins, concurring. DP I adhere to the view that the Government's case against the Washington Post should have been dismissed and that the injunction against the New York Times should have been vacated without oral argument when the cases were first presented to this Court. I believe

Page 715

that every moment's continuance of the injunctions against these newspapers amounts to a flagrant, indefensible, and continuing violation of the First Amendment. Furthermore, after oral argument, I agree completely that we must affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit and reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit for the reasons stated by my Brothers DOUGLAS and BRENNAN. In my view it is unfortunate that some of my Brethren are apparently willing to hold that the publication of news may sometimes be enjoined. Such a holding would make a shambles of the First Amendment.

          Our Government was launched in 1789 with the adoption of the Constitution. The Bill of Rights, including the First Amendment, followed in 1791. Now, for the first time in the 182 years since the founding of the Republic, the federal courts are asked to hold that the First Amendment does not mean what it says, but rather means that the Government can halt the publication of current news of vital importance to the people of this country.

          In seeking injunctions against these newspapers and in its presentation to the Court, the Executive Branch seems to have forgotten the essential purpose and history of the First Amendment. When the Constitution was adopted, many people strongly opposed it because the document contained no Bill of Rights to safeguard certain basic freedoms.1 They especially feared that the

Page 716

new powers granted to a central government might be interpreted to permit the government to curtail freedom of religion, press, assembly, and speech. In response to an overwhelming public clamor, James Madison offered a series of amendments to satisfy citizens that these great liberties would remain safe and beyond the power of government to abridge. Madison proposed what later became the First Amendment in three parts, two of which are set out below, and one of which proclaimed: 'The people shall not be deprived or abridged of their right to speak, to write, or to publish their sentiments; and the freedom of the press, as one of the great bulwarks of liberty, shall be inviolable.'2 The amendments were offered to curtail and restrict the general powers granted to the Executive, Legislative, and Judicial Branches two years before in the original Constitution. The Bill of Rights changed the original Constitution into a new charter under which no branch of government could abridge the people's freedoms of press, speech, religion, and assembly. Yet the Solicitor General argues and some members of the Court appear to agree that the general powers of the Government adopted in the original Constitution should be interpreted to limit and restrict the specific and emphatic guarantees of the Bill of Rights adopted later. I can imagine no greater perversion of history. Madison and the other Framers of the First Amendment, able men

Page 717

that they were, wrote in language they earnestly believed could never be misunderstood: 'Congress shall make no law * * * abridging the freedom * * * of the press * * *.' Both the history and language of the First Amendment support the view that the press must be left free to publish news, whatever the source, without censorship, injunctions, or prior restraints.

          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.

          The Government's case here is based on premises entirely different from those that guided the Framers of the First Amendment. The Solicitor General has carefully and emphatically stated:

          'Now, Mr. Justice (BLACK), your construction of * * * (the First Amendment) is well known, and I certainly respect it. You say that no law means no law, and that should be obvious. I can only

Page 718

          say, Mr. Justice, that to me it is equally obvious that 'no law' does not mean 'no law', and I would seek to persuade the Court that that is true. * * * (T)here are other parts of the Constitution that grant powers and responsibilities to the Executive, and * * * the First Amendment was not intended to make it impossible for the Executive to function or to protect the security of the United States.'3

          And the Government argues in its brief that in spite of the First Amendment, '(t)he authority of the Executive Department to protect the nation against publication of information whose disclosure would endanger the national security stems from two interrelated sources: the constitutional power of the President over the conduct of foreign affairs and his authority as Commander-in-Chief.'4

          In other words, we are asked to hold that despite the First Amendment's emphatic command, the Executive Branch, the Congress, and the Judiciary can make laws enjoining publication of current news and abridging freedom of the press in the name of 'national security.' The Government does not even attempt to rely on any act of Congress. Instead it makes the bold and dangerously farreaching contention that the courts should take it upon themselves to 'make' a law abridging freedom of the press in the name of equity, presidential power and national security, even when the representatives of the people in Congress have adhered to the command of the First Amendment and refused to make such a law.5 See concurring opinion of Mr. Justice DOUGLAS,

Page 719

post, at 721—722. To find that the President has 'inherent power' to halt the publication of news by resort to the courts would wipe out the First Amendment and destroy the fundamental liberty and security of the very people the Government hopes to make 'secure.' No one can read the history of the adoption of the First Amendment without being convinced beyond any doubt that it was injunctions like those sought here that Madison and his collaborators intended to outlaw in this Nation for all time.

          The word 'security' is a broad, vague generality whose contours should not be invoked to abrogate the fundamental law embodied in the First Amendment. The guarding of military and diplomatic secrets at the expense of informed representative government provides no real security for our Republic. The Framers of the First Amendment, fully aware of both the need to defend a new nation and the abuses of the English and Colonial Governments, sought to give this new society strength and security by providing that freedom of speech, press, religion, and assembly should not be abridged. This thought was eloquently expressed in 1937 by Mr. Chief Justice Hughes—great man and great Chief Justice that he was when the Court held a man could not be punished for attending a meeting run by Communists.

          'The greater the importance of safeguarding the community from incitements to the overthrow of our institutions by force and violence, the more imperative is the need to preserve inviolate the constitutional rights of free speech, free press and free

Page 720

          assembly in order to maintain the opportunity for free political discussion, to the end that government may be responsive to the will of the people and that changes, if desired, may be obtained by peaceful means. Therein lies the security of the Republic, the very foundation of constitutional government.'6

           Mr. Justice DOUGLAS, with whom Mr. Justice BLACK joins, concurring .

          While I join the opinion of the Court I believe it necessary to express my views more fully.

          It should be noted at the outset that the First Amendment provides that 'Congress shall make no law * * * abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press.' That leaves, in my view, no room for governmental restraint on the press.1

          There is, moreover, no statute barring the publication by the press of the material which the Times and the Post seek to use. Title 18 U.S.C. § 793(e) provides that '(w)hoever having unauthorized possession of, access to, or control over any document, writing * * * or information relating to the national defense which information the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation, willfully communicates * * * the same to any person not entitled to receive it * * * (s)hall be fined

Page 721

not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than ten years, or both.'

          The Government suggests that the word 'communicates' is broad enough to encompass publication.

          There are eight sections in the chapter on espionage and censorship, §§ 792—799. In three of those eight 'publish' is specifically mentioned: § 794(b) applies to 'Whoever, in time of war, with intent that the same shall be communicated to the enemy, collects, records, publishes, or communicates * * * (the disposition of armed forces).'

          Section 797 applies to whoever 'reproduces, publishes, sells, or gives away' photographs of defense installations.

          Section 798 relating to cryptography applies to whoever: 'communicates, furnishes, transmits, or otherwise makes available * * * or publishes' the described materials.2 (Emphasis added.)

          Thus it is apparent that Congress was capable of and did distinguish between publishing and communication in the various sections of the Espionage Act.

          The other evidence that § 793 does not apply to the press is a rejected version of § 793. That version read: 'During any national emergency resulting from a war to which the United States is a party, or from threat of such a war, the President may, by proclamation, declare the existence of such emergency and, by proclamation, prohibit the publishing or communicating of, or the attempting to publish or communicate any information relating to the national defense which, in his judgment, is of such character that it is or might be useful to the

Page 722

enemy.' 55 Cong.Rec. 1763. During the debates in the Senate the First Amendment was specifically cited and that provision was defeated. 55 Cong.Rec. 2167.

          Judge Gurfein's holding in the Times case that this Act does not apply to this case was therefore preeminently sound. Moreover, the Act of September 23, 1950, in amending 18 U.S.C. § 793 states in § 1(b) that:

          'Nothing in this Act shall be construed to authorize, require, or establish military or civilian censorship or in any way to limit or infringe upon freedom of the press or of speech as guaranteed by the Constitution of the United States and no regulation shall be promulgated hereunder having that effect.' 64 Stat. 987.

          Thus Congress has been faithful to the command of the First Amendment in this area.

          So any power that the Government possesses must come from its 'inherent power.'

          The power to wage war is 'the power to wage war successfully.' See Kiyoshi Hirabayashi v. United States, 320 U.S. 81, 93, 63 S.Ct. 1375, 1382, 87 L.Ed. 1774. But the war power stems from a declaration of war. The Constitution by Art. I, § 8, gives Congress, not the President, power '(t)o declare War.' Nowhere are presidential wars authorized. We need not decide therefore what leveling effect the war power of Congress might have.

          These disclosures3 may have a serious impact. But that is no basis for sanctioning a previous restraint on

Page 723

the press. As stated by Chief Justice Hughes in Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 719—720, 51 S.Ct. 625, 632, 75 L.Ed. 1357:

          'While reckless assaults upon public men, and efforts to bring obloquy upon those who are endeavoring faithfully to discharge official duties, exert a baleful influence and deserve the severest condemnation in public opinion, it cannot be said that this abuse is greater, and it is believed to be less, than that which characterized the period in which our institutions took shape. Meanwhile, the administration of government has become more complex, the opportunities for malfeasance and corruption have multiplied, crime has grown to most serious proportions, and the danger of its protection by unfaithful officials and of the impairment of the fundamental security of life and property by criminal alliances and official neglect, emphasizes the primary need of a vigilant and courageous press, especially in great cities. The fact that the liberty of the press may be abused by miscreant purveyors of scandal does not make any the less necessary the immunity of the press from previous restraint in dealing with official misconduct.'

          As we stated only the other day in Organization for a Better Austin v. Keefe, 402 U.S. 415, 419, 91 S.Ct. 1575, 1578, 29 L.Ed.2d 1 '(a)ny prior restraint on expression comes to this Court with a 'heavy presumption' against its constitutional validity.'

          The Government says that it has inherent powers to go into court and obtain an injunction to protect the national interest, which in this case is alleged to be national security.

          Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 51 S.Ct. 625, 75 L.Ed. 1357, repudiated that expansive doctrine in no uncertain terms.

          The dominant purpose of the First Amendment was to prohibit the widespread practice of governmental sup-

Page 724

pression of embarrassing information. It is common knowledge that the First Amendment was adopted against the widespread use of the common law of seditious libel to punish the dissemination of material that is embarrassing to the powers-that-be. See T. Emerson, The System of Freedom of Expression, c. V (1970); Z. Chafee, Free Speech in the United States, c. XIII (1941). The present cases will, I think, go down in history as the most dramatic illustration of that principle. A debate of large proportions goes on in the Nation over our posture in Vietnam. That debate antedated the disclosure of the contents of the present documents. The latter are highly relevant to the debate in progress.

          Secrecy in government is fundamentally anti-democratic, perpetuating bureaucratic errors. Open debate and discussion of public issues are vital to our national health. On public questions there should be 'uninhibited, robust, and wide-open' debate. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 269—270, 84 S.Ct. 710, 720—721, 11 L.Ed.2d 686.

          I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals in the Post case, vacate the stay of the Court of Appeals in the Times case and direct that it affirm the District Court.

          The stays is these cases that have been in effect for more than a week constitute a flouting of the principles of the First Amendment as interpreted in Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson.

           Mr. Justice BRENNAN, concurring.

I

          I write separately in these cases only to emphasize what should be apparent: that our judgments in the present cases may not be taken to indicate the propriety, in the future, of issuing temporary stays and restraining

Page 725

orders to block the publication of material sought to be suppressed by the Government. So far as I can determine, never before has the United States sought to enjoin a newspaper from publishing information in its possession. The relative novelty of the questions presented, the necessary haste with which decisions were reached, the magnitude of the interests asserted, and the fact that all the parties have concentrated their arguments upon the question whether permanent restraints were proper may have justified at least some of the restraints heretofore imposed in these cases. Certainly it is difficult to fault the several courts below for seeking to assure that the issues here involved were preserved for ultimate review by this Court. But even if it be assumed that some of the interim restraints were proper in the two cases before us, that assumption has no bearing upon the propriety of similar judicial action in the future. To begin with, there has now been ample time for reflection and judgment; whatever values there may be in the preservation of novel questions for appellate review may not support any restraints in the future. More important, the First Amendment stands as an absolute bar to the imposition of judicial restraints in circumstances of the kind presented by these cases.

II

          The error that has pervaded these cases from the outset was the granting of any injunctive relief whatsoever, interim or otherwise. The entire thrust of the Government's claim throughout these cases has been that publication of the material sought to be enjoined 'could,' or 'might,' or 'may' prejudice the national interest in various ways. But the First Amendment tolerates absolutely no prior judicial restraints of the press predicated upon surmise or conjecture that untoward consequences

Page 726

may result.* Our cases, it is true, have indicated that there is a single, extremely narrow class of cases in which the First Amendment's ban on prior judicial restraint may be overridden. Our cases have thus far indicated that such cases may arise only when the Nation 'is at war,' Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47, 52, 39 S.Ct. 247, 249, 63 L.Ed. 470 (1919), during which times '(n)o one would question but that a government might prevent actual obstruction to its recruiting service or the publication of the sailing dates of transports or the number and location of troops.' Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 716, 51 S.Ct. 625, 631, 75 L.Ed. 1357 (1931). Even if the present world situation were assumed to be tantamount to a time of war, or if the power of presently available armaments would justify even in peacetime the suppression of information that would set in motion a nuclear holocaust, in neither of these actions has the Government presented or even alleged that publication of items from or based upon the material at issue would cause the happening of an event of that nature. '(T)he chief purpose of (the First Amendment's) guaranty (is) to prevent previous restraints upon publication.' Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, supra, at 713, 51 S.Ct., at 630. Thus, only governmental allegation and proof that publication must inevitably, di-

Page 727

rectly, and immediately cause the occurrence of an event kindred to imperiling the safety of a transport already at sea can support even the issuance of an interim restraining order. In no event may mere conclusions be sufficient: for if the Executive Branch seeks judicial aid in preventing publication, it must inevitably submit the basis upon which that aid is sought to scrutiny by the judiciary. And therefore, every restraint issued in this case, whatever its form, has violated the First Amendment—and not less so because that restraint was justified as necessary to afford the courts an opportunity to examine the claim more thoroughly. Unless and until the Government has clearly made out its case, the First Amendment commands that no injunction may issue.

           Mr. Justice STEWART, with whom Mr. Justice WHITE joins, concurring.

          In the governmental structure created by our Constitution, the Executive is endowed with enormous power in the two related areas of national defense and international relations. This power, largely unchecked by the Legislative1 and Judicial2 branches, has been pressed to the very hilt since the advent of the nuclear missile age. For better of for worse, the simple fact is that a

Page 728

President of the United States possesses vastly greater constitutional independence in these two vital areas of power than does, say, a prime minister of a country with a parliamentary form of government.

          In the absence of the governmental checks and balances present in other areas of our national life, the only effective restraint upon executive policy and power in the areas of national defense and international affairs may lie in an enlightened citizenry—in an informed and critical public opinion which alone can here protect the values of democratic government. For this reason, it is perhaps here that a press that is alert, aware, and free most vitally serves the basic purpose of the First Amendment. For without an informed and free press there cannot be an enlightened people.

          Yet it is elementary that the successful conduct of international diplomacy and the maintenance of an effective national defense require both confidentiality and secrecy. Other nations can hardly deal with this Nation in an atmosphere of mutual trust unless they can be assured that their confidences will be kept. And within our own executive departments, the development of considered and intelligent international policies would be impossible if those charged with their formulation could not communicate with each other freely, frankly, and in confidence. In the area of basic national defense the frequent need for absolute secrecy is, of course, self-evident.

          I think there can be but one answer to this dilemma, if dilemma it be. The responsibility must be where the power is.3 If the Constitution gives the Executive

Page 729

a large degree of unshared power in the conduct of foreign affairs and the maintenance of our national defense, then under the Constitution the Executive must have the largely unshared duty to determine and preserve the degree of internal security necessary to exercise that power successfully. It is an awesome responsibility, requiring judgment and wisdom of a high order. I should suppose that moral, political, and practical considerations would dictate that a very first principle of that wisdom would be an insistence upon avoiding secrecy for its own sake. For when everything is classified, then nothing is classified, and the system becomes one to be disregarded by the cynical or the careless, and to be manipulated by those intent on self-protection or self-promotion. I should suppose, in short, that the hallmark of a truly effective internal security system would be the maximum possible disclosure, recognizing that secrecy can best be preserved only when credibility is truly maintained. But be that as it may, it is clear to me that it is the constitutional duty of the Executive—as a matter of sovereign prerogative and not as a matter of law as the courts know law—through the promulgation and enforcement of executive regulations, to protect

Page 730

the confidentiality necessary to carry out its responsibilities in the fields of international relations and national defense.

          This is not to say that Congress and the courts have no role to play. Undoubtedly Congress has the power to enact specific and appropriate criminal laws to protect government property and preserve government secrets. Congress has passed such laws, and several of them are of very colorable relevance to the apparent circumstances of these cases. And if a criminal prosecution is instituted, it will be the responsibility of the courts to decide the applicability of the criminal law under which the charge is brought. Moreover, if Congress should pass a specific law authorizing civil proceedings in this field, the courts would likewise have the duty to decide the constitutionality of such a law as well as its applicability to the facts proved.

          But in the cases before us we are asked neither to construe specific regulations nor to apply specific laws. We are asked, instead, to perform a function that the Constitution gave to the Executive, not the Judiciary. We are asked, quite simply, to prevent the publication by two newspapers of material that the Executive Branch insists should not, in the national interest, be published. I am convinced that the Executive is correct with respect to some of the documents involved. But I cannot say that disclosure of any of them will surely result in direct, immediate, and irreparable damage to our Nation or its people. That being so, there can under the First Amendment be but one judicial resolution of the issues before us. I join the judgments of the Court.

           Mr. Justice WHITE, with whom Mr. Justice STEWART joins, concurring.

          I concur in today's judgments, but only because of the concededly extraordinary protection against prior re-

Page 731

straints enjoyed by the press under our constitutional system. I do not say that in no circumstances would the First Amendment permit an injunction against publishing information about government plans or operations.1 Nor, after examining the materials the Government characterizes as the most sensitive and destructive, can I deny that revelation of these documents will do substantial damage to public interests. Indeed, I am confident that their disclosure will have that result. But I nevertheless agree that the United States has not satisfied the very heavy burden that it must meet to warrant an injunction against publication in these cases, at least in the absence of express and appropriately limited congressional authorization for prior restraints in circumstances such as these.

Page 732

          The Government's position is simply stated: The responsibility of the Executive for the conduct of the foreign affairs and for the security of the Nation is so basic that the President is entitled to an injunction against publication of a newspaper story whenever he can convince a court that the information to be revealed threatens 'grave and irreparable' injury to the public interest;2 and the injunction should issue whether or not the material to be published is classified, whether or not publication would be lawful under relevant criminal statutes enacted by Congress, and regardless of the circumstances by which the newspaper came into possession of the information.

          At least in the absence of legislation by Congress, based on its own investigations and findings, I am quite unable to agree that the inherent powers of the Executive and the courts reach so far as to authorize remedies having such sweeping potential for inhibiting publications by the press. Much of the difficulty inheres in the 'grave and irreparable danger' standard suggested by the United States. If the United States were to have judgment under such a standard in these cases, our decision would be of little guidance to other courts in other cases, for the material at issue here would not be available from the Court's opinion or from public records, nor would it be published by the press. Indeed, even today where we hold that the United States has not met its burden, the material remains sealed in court records and it is

Page 733

properly not discussed in today's opinions. Moreover, because the material poses substantial dangers to national interests and because of the hazards of criminal sanctions, a responsible press may choose never to publish the more sensitive materials. To sustain the Government in these cases would start the courts down a long and hazardous road that I am not willing to travel, at least without congressional guidance and direction.

          It is not easy to reject the proposition urged by the United States and to deny relief on its good-faith claims in these cases that publication will work serious damage to the country. But that discomfiture is considerably dispelled by the infrequency of prior-restraint cases. Normally, publication will occur and the damage be done before the Government has either opportunity or grounds for suppression. So here, publication has already begun and a substantial part of the threatened damage has already occurred. The fact of a massive breakdown in security is known, access to the documents by many unauthorized people is undeniable, and the efficacy of equitable relief against these or other newspapers to avert anticipated damage is doubtful at best.

          What is more, terminating the ban on publication of the relatively few sensitive documents the Government now seeks to suppress does not mean that the law either requires or invites newspapers or others to publish them or that they will be immune from criminal action if they do. Prior restraints require an unusually heavy justification under the First Amendment; but failure by the Government to justify prior restraints does not measure its constitutional entitlement to a conviction for criminal publication. That the Government mistakenly chose to proceed by injunction does not mean that it could not successfully proceed in another way.

          When the Espionage Act was under consideration in

Page 734

1917, Congress eliminated from the bill a provision that would have given the President broad powers in time of war to proscribe, under threat of criminal penalty, the publication of various categories of information related to the national defense.3 Congress at that time was unwilling to clothe the President with such far-reaching powers to monitor the press, and those opposed to this part of the legislation assumed that a necessary concomitant of such power was the power to 'filter out the news to the people through some man.' 55 Cong.Rec. 2008 (remarks of Sen. Ashurst). However, these same members of Congress appeared to have little doubt that newspapers would be subject to criminal prosecution if they insisted on publishing information of the type Congress had itself determined should not be revealed. Senator Ashurst, for example, was quite sure that the editor of such a newspaper 'should be punished if he did publish information as to the movements of the fleet, the troops, the aircraft, the location of powder factories, the location of defense works, and all that sort of thing.' Id., at 2009.4

Page 735

          The Criminal Code contains numerous provisions potentially relevant to these cases. Section 7975 makes it a crime to publish certain photographs or drawings of military installations. Section 798,6 also in precise language, proscribes knowing and willful publication of any classified information concerning the cryptographic sys-

Page 736

tems or communication intelligence activities of the United States as well as any information obtained from communication intelligence operations.7 If any of the material here at issue is of this nature, the newspapers are presumably now on full notice of the position of the United States and must face the consequences if they

Page 737

publish. I would have no difficulty in sustaining convictions under these sections on facts that would not justify the intervention of equity and the imposition of a prior restraint.

          The same would be true under those sections of the Criminal Code casting a wider net to protect the national defense. Section 793(e)8 makes it a criminal act for any unauthorized possessor of a document 'relating to the national defense' either (1) willfully to communicate or cause to be communicated that document to any person not entitled to receive it or (2) willfully to retain the document and fail to deliver it to an officer of the United States entitled to receive it. The subsection was added in 1950 because pre-existing law provided no

Page 738

penalty for the unauthorized possessor unless demand for the documents was made.9 'The dangers surrounding the unauthorized possession of such items are self-

Page 739

evident, and it is deemed advisable to require their surrender in such a case, regardless of demand, especially since their unauthorized possession may be unknown to the authorities who would otherwise make the demand.' S.Rep.No. 2369, pt. 1, 81st Cong., 2d Sess., 9 (1950). Of course, in the cases before us, the unpublished documents have been demanded by the United States and their import has been made known at least to counsel for the newspapers involved. In Gorin v. United States, 312 U.S. 19, 28, 61 S.Ct. 429, 434, 85 L.Ed. 488 (1941), the words 'national defense' as used in a predecessor of § 793 were held by a unanimous Court to have 'a well understood connotation'—a 'generic concept of broad connotations, referring to the military and naval establishments and the related activities of national preparedness'—and to be 'sufficiently definite to apprise the public of prohibited activi-

Page 740

ties' and to be consonant with due process. 312 U.S., at 28, 61 S.Ct., at 434. Also, as construed by the Court in Gorin, information 'connected with the national defense' is obviously not limited to that threatening 'grave and irreparable' injury to the United States.10

          It is thus clear that Congress has addressed itself to the problems of protecting the security of the country and the national defense from unauthorized disclosure of potentially damaging information. Cf. Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579, 585—586, 72 S.Ct. 863, 865—866, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1953); see also id., at 593—628, 72 S.Ct., at 888—928 (Frankfurter, J., concurring). It has not, however, authorized the injunctive remedy against threatened publication. It has apparently been satisfied to rely on criminal sanctions and their deterrent effect on the responsible as well as the irresponsible press. I am not, of course, saying that either of these newspapers has yet committed a crime or that either would commit a crime if it published all the material now in its possession. That matter must await resolution in the context of a criminal proceeding if one is instituted by the United States. In that event, the issue of guilt or innocence would be determined by procedures and standards quite different from those that have purported to govern these injunctive proceedings.

           Mr. Justice MARSHALL, concurring.

          The Government contends that the only issue in these cases is whether in a suit by the United States, 'the First Amendment bars a court from prohibiting a news-

Page 741

paper from publishing material whose disclosure would pose a 'grave and immediate danger to the security of the United States." Brief for the United States 7. With all due respect, I believe the ultimate issue in this case is even more basic than the one posed by the Solicitor General. The issue is whether this Court or the Congress has the power to make law.

          In these cases there is no problem concerning the President's power to classify information as 'secret' or 'top secret.' Congress has specifically recognized Presidential authority, which has been formally exercised in Exec. Order 10501 (1953), to classify documents and information. See, e.g., 18 U.S.C. § 798; 50 U.S.C. § 783.1 Nor is there any issue here regarding the President's power as Chief Executive and Commander in Chief to protect national security by disciplining employees who disclose information and by taking precautions to prevent leaks.

          The problem here is whether in these particular cases the Executive Branch has authority to invoke the equity jurisdiction of the courts to protect what it believes to be the national interest. See In re Debs, 158 U.S. 564, 584, 15 S.Ct. 900, 906, 39 L.Ed. 1092 (1895). The Government argues that in addition to the inherent power of any government to protect itself, the President's power to conduct foreign affairs and his position as Commander in Chief give him authority to impose censorship on the press to protect his ability to deal effectively with foreign nations and to conduct the military affairs of the country. Of course, it is beyond cavil that the President has broad powers by virtue of his primary responsibility for the conduct of our foreign affairs and his position as Commander in Chief. Chicago & Southern Air Lines v. Waterman S.S. Corp., 333 U.S. 103, 68 S.Ct. 431, 92 L.Ed. 568 (1948); Kiyoshi Hirabayashi v. United States, 320 U.S. 81, 93, 63 S.Ct. 1375, 1382, 87 L.Ed. 1774 (1943); United States v. Curtiss-

Page 742

Wright Export Corp., 299 U.S. 304, 57 S.Ct. 216, 81 L.Ed. 255 (1936).2 And in some situations it may be that under whatever inherent powers the Government may have, as well as the implicit authority derived from the President's mandate to conduct foreign affairs and to act as Commander in Chief, there is a basis for the invocation of the equity jurisdiction of this Court as an aid to prevent the publication of material damaging to 'national security,' however that term may be defined.

          It would, however, be utterly inconsistent with the concept of separation of powers for this Court to use its power of contempt to prevent behavior that Congress has specifically declined to prohibit. There would be a similar damage to the basic concept of these co-equal branches of Government if when the Executive Branch has adequate authority granted by Congress to protect 'national security' it can choose instead to invoke the contempt power of a court to enjoin the threatened conduct. The Constitution provides that Congress shall make laws, the President execute laws, and courts interpret laws. Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579, 72 S.Ct. 863, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1952). It did not provide for government by injunction in which the courts and the Executive Branch can 'make law' without regard to the action of Congress. It may be more convenient for the Executive Branch if it need only convince a judge to prohibit conduct rather than ask the Congress to pass a law, and it may be more convenient to enforce a contempt order than to seek a criminal conviction in a jury trial. Moreover, it may be considered politically wise to get a court to share the responsibility for arresting those who the Executive Branch has probable cause to believe are violating the law. But convenience and political considerations of the

Page 743

moment do not justify a basic departure from the principles of our system of government.

          In these cases we are not faced with a situation where Congress has failed to provide the Executive with broad power to protect the Nation from disclosure of damaging state secrets. Congress has on several occasions given extensive consideration to the problem of protecting the military and strategic secrets of the United States. This consideration has resulted in the enactment of statutes making it a crime to receive, disclose, communicate, withhold, and publish certain documents, photographs, instruments, appliances, and information. The bulk of these statutes is found in chapter 37 of U.S.C., Title 18, entitled Espionage and Censorship.3 In that chapter,

Page 744

Congress has provided penalties ranging from a $10,000 fine to death for violating the various statutes.

          Thus it would seem that in order for this Court to issue an injunction it would require a showing that such an injunction would enhance the already existing power of the Government to act. See People ex rel. Bennett v. Laman, 277 N.Y. 368, 14 N.E.2d 439 (1938). It is a traditional axiom of equity that a court of equity will not do a useless thing just as it is a traditional axiom that equity will not enjoin the commission of a crime. See Z. Chafee & E. Re, Equity 935—954 (5th ed. 1967); 1 H. Joyce, Injunctions §§ 58—60a (1909). Here there has been no attempt to make such a showing. The Solicitor General does not even mention in his brief whether the Government considers that there is probable cause to believe a crime has been committed or whether there is a conspiracy to commit future crimes.

          If the Government had attempted to show that there was no effective remedy under traditional criminal law, it would have had to show that there is no arguably applicable statute. Of course, at this stage this Court could not and cannot determine whether there has been a violation of a particular statute or decide the constitutionality of any statute. Whether a good-faith prosecution could have been instituted under any statute could, however, be determined.

Page 745

          At least one of the many statutes in this area seems relevant to these cases. Congress has provided in 18 U.S.C. § 793(e) that whoever 'having unauthorized possession of, access to, or control over any document, writing, code book, signal book * * * or note relating to the national defense, or information relating to the national defense which information the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation, willfully communicates, delivers, transmits * * * the same to any person not entitled to receive it, or willfully retains the same and fails to deliver it to the officer or employee of the United States entitled to receive it * * * (s)hall be fined not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than ten years, or both.' Congress has also made it a crime to conspire to commit any of the offenses listed in 18 U.S.C. § 793(e).

          It is true that Judge Gurfein found that Congress had not made it a crime to publish the items and material specified in § 793(e). He found that the words 'communicates, delivers, transmits * * *' did not refer to publication of newspaper stories. And that view has some support in the legislative history and conforms with the past practice of using the statute only to prosecute those charged with ordinary espionage. But see 103 Cong.Rec. 10449 (remarks of Sen. Humphrey). Judge Gurfein's view of the Statute is not, however, the only plausible construction that could be given. See my Brother WHITE's concurring opinion.

          Even if it is determined that the Government could not in good faith bring criminal prosecutions against the New York Times and the Washington Post, it is clear that Congress has specifically rejected passing legislation that would have clearly given the President the power he seeks here and made the current activity of the newspapers unlawful. When Congress specifically declines to make conduct unlawful it is not for this Court

Page 746

to redecide those issues—to overrule Congress. See Youngtown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579, 72 S.Ct. 863, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1952).

          On at least two occasions Congress has refused to enact legislation that would have made the conduct engaged in here unlawful and given the President the power that he seeks in this case. In 1917 during the debate over the original Espionage Act, still the basic provisions of § 793, Congress rejected a proposal to give the President in time of war or threat of war authority to directly prohibit by proclamation the publication of information relating to national defense that might be useful to the enemy. The proposal provided that:

          'During any national emergency resulting from a war to which the United States is a party, or from threat of such a war, the President may, by proclamation, declare the existence of such emergency and, by proclamation, prohibit the publishing or communicating of, or the attempting to publish or communicate any information relating to the national defense which, in his judgment, is of such character that it is or might be useful to the enemy. Whoever violates any such prohibition shall be punished by a fine of not more than $10,000 or by imprisonment for not more than 10 years, or both: Provided, that nothing in this section shall be construed to limit or restrict any discussion, comment, or criticism of the acts or policies of the Government or its representatives or the publication of the same.' 55 Cong.Rec. 1763.

          Congress rejected this proposal after war against Germany had been declared even though many believed that there was a grave national emergency and that the threat of security leaks and espionage was serious. The Executive Branch has not gone to Congress and requested that the decision to provide such power be reconsidered. In-

Page 747

stead, the Executive Branch comes to this Court and asks that it be granted the power Congress refused to give.

          In 1957 the United States Commission on Government Security found that '(a) irplane journals, scientific periodicals, and even the daily newspaper have featured articles containing information and other data which should have been deleted in whole or in part for security reasons.' In response to this problem the Commission proposed that 'Congress enact legislation making it a crime for any person willfully to disclose without proper authorization, for any purpose whatever, information classified 'secret' or 'top secret,' knowing, or having reasonable grounds to believe, such information to have been so classified.' Report of Commission on Government Security 619—620 (1957). After substantial floor discussion on the proposal, it was rejected. See 103 Cong.Rec. 10447—10450. If the proposal that Sen. Cotton championed on the floor had been enacted, the publication of the documents involved here would certainly have been a crime. Congress refused, however, to make it a crime. The Government is here asking this Court to remake that decision. This Court has no such power.

          Either the Government has the power under statutory grant to use traditional criminal law to protect the country or, if there is no basis for arguing that Congress has made the activity a crime, it is plain that Congress has specifically refused to grant the authority the Government seeks from this Court. In either case this Court does not have authority to grant the requested relief. It is not for this Court to fling itself into every breach perceived by some Government official nor is it for this Court to take on itself the burden of enacting law, especially a law that Congress has refused to pass.

          I believe that the judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit should

Page 748

be affirmed and the judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit should be reversed insofar as it remands the case for further hearings.

           Mr. Chief Justice BURGER, dissenting.

          So clear are the constitutional limitations on prior restraint against expression, that from the time of Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 51 S.Ct. 625, 75 L.Ed. 1357 (1931), until recently in Organization for a Better Austin v. Keefe, 402 U.S. 415, 91 S.Ct. 1575, 29 L.Ed.2d 1 (1971), we have had little occasion to be concerned with cases involving prior restraints against news reporting on matters of public interest. There is, therefore, little variation among the members of the Court in terms of resistance to prior restraints against publication. Adherence to this basic constitutional principle, however, does not make these cases simple ones. In these cases, the imperative of a free and unfettered press comes into collision with another imperative, the effective functioning of a complex modern government and specifically the effective exercise of certain constitutional powers of the Executive. Only those who view the First Amendment as an absolute in all circumstances—a view I respect, but reject—can find such cases as these to be simple or easy.

          These cases are not simple for another and more immediate reason. We do not know the facts of the cases. No District Judge knew all the facts. No Court of Appeals Judge knew all the facts. No member of this Court knows all the facts.

          Why are we in this posture, in which only those judges to whom the First Amendment is absolute and permits of no restraint in any circumstances or for any reason, are really in a position to act?

          I suggest we are in this posture because these cases have been conducted in unseemly haste. Mr. Justice HARLAN covers the chronology of events demonstrating the hectic pressures under which these cases have been processed and I need not restate them. The prompt

Page 749

settling of these cases reflects our universal abhorrence of prior restraint. But prompt judicial action does not mean unjudicial haste.

          Here, moreover, the frenetic haste is due in large part to the manner in which the Times proceeded from the date it obtained the purloined documents. It seems reasonably clear now that the haste precluded reasonable and deliberate judicial treatment of these cases and was not warranted. The precipitate action of this Court aborting trials not yet completed is not the kind of judicial conduct that ought to attend the disposition of a great issue.

          The newspapers make a derivative claim under the First Amendment; they denominate this right as the public 'right to know'; by implication, the Times asserts a sole trusteenship of that right by virtue of its journalistic 'scoop.' The right is asserted as an absolute. Of course, the First Amendment right itself is not an absolute, as Justice Holmes so long ago pointed out in his aphorism concerning the right to shout 'fire' in a crowded theater if there was no fire. There are other exceptions, some of which Chief Justice Hughes mentioned by way of example in Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson. There are no doubt other exceptions no one has had occasion to describe or discuss. Conceivably such exceptions may be lurking in these cases and would have been flushed had they been properly considered in the trial courts, free from unwarranted deadlines and frenetic pressures. An issue of this importance should be tried and heard in a judicial atmosphere conducive to thoughtful, reflective deliberation, especially when haste, in terms of hours, is unwarranted in light of the long period the Times, by its own choice, deferred publication.1

Page 750

          It is not disputed that the Times has had unauthorized possession of the documents for three to four months, during which it has had its expert analysts studying them, presumably digesting them and preparing the material for publication. During all of this time, the Times, presumably in its capacity as trustee of the public's 'right to know,' has held up publication for purposes it considered proper and thus public knowledge was delayed. No doubt this was for a good reason; the analysis of 7,000 pages of complex material drawn from a vastly greater volume of material would inevitably take time and the writing of good news stories takes time. But why should the United States Government, from whom this information was illegally acquired by someone, along with all the counsel, trial judges, and appellate judges be placed under needless pressure? After these months of deferral, the alleged 'right to know' has somehow and suddenly become a right that must be vindicated instanter.

          Would it have been unreasonable, since the newspaper could anticipate the Government's objections to release of secret material, to give the Government an opportunity to review the entire collection and determine whether agreement could be reached on publication? Stolen or not, if security was not in fact jeopardized, much of the material could not doubt have been declassified, since it spans a period ending in 1968. With such an approach—one that great newspapers have in the past practiced and stated editorially to be the duty of an honorable press—the newspapers and Government might well have nar-

Page 751

rowed the area of disagreement as to what was and was not publishable, leaving the remainder to be resolved in orderly litigation, if necessary. To me it is hardly believable that a newspaper long regarded as a great institution in American life would fail to perform one of the basic and simple duties of every citizen with respect to the discovery or possession of stolen property or secret government documents. That duty, I had thought perhaps naively—was to report forthwith, to responsible public officers. This duty rests on taxi drivers, Justices, and the New York Times. The course followed by the Times, whether so calculated or not, removed any possibility of orderly litigation of the issues. If the action of the judges up to now has been correct, that result is sheer happenstance.2

          Our grant of the writ of certiorari before final judgment in the Times case aborted the trial in the District Court before it had made a complete record pursuant to the mandate of the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit.

          The consequence of all this melancholy series of events is that we literally do not know what we are acting on. As I see it, we have been forced to deal with litigation concerning rights of great magnitude without an adequate record, and surely without time for adequate treatment either in the prior proceedings or in this Court. It is interesting to note that counsel, on both sides, in oral argument before this Court, were frequently unable to respond to questions on factual points. Not surprisingly they pointed out that they had been working literally 'around the clock' and simply were unable to review the documents that give rise to these cases and

Page 752

were not familiar with them. This Court is in no better posture. I agree generally with Mr. Justice HARLAN and Mr. Justice BLACKMUN but I am not prepared to reach the merits.3

          I would affirm the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit and allow the District Court to complete the trial aborted by our grant of certiorari, meanwhile preserving the status quo in the post case. I would direct that the District Court on remand give priority to the Times case to the exclusion of all other business of that court but I would not set arbitrary deadlines.

          I should add that I am in general agreement with much of what Mr. Justice WHITE has expressed with respect to penal sanctions concerning communication or retention of documents or information relating to the national defense.

          We all crave speedier judicial processes but when judges are pressured as in these cases the result is a parody of the judicial function.

           Mr. Justice HARLAN, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE and Mr. Justice BLACKMUN join, dissenting.

          These cases forcefully call to mind the wise admonition of Mr. Justice Holmes, dissenting in Northern Securities Co. v. United States, 193 U.S. 197, 400—401, 24 S.Ct. 436, 468, 48 L.Ed. 679 (1904):

          'Great cases, like hard cases, make bad law. For great cases are called great, not by reason of their

Page 753

          real importance in shaping the law of the futture, but because of some accident of immediate overwhelming interest which appeals to the feelings and distorts the judgment. These immediate interests exercise a kind of hydraulic pressure which makes what previously was clear seem doubtful, and before which even well settled principles of law will bend.'

          With all respect, I consider that the Court has been almost irresponsibly feverish in dealing with these cases.

          Both the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit and the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit rendered judgment on June 23. The New York Times' petition for certiorari, its motion for accelerated consideration thereof, and its application for interim relief were filed in this Court on June 24 at about 11 a.m. The application of the United States for interim relief in the Post case was also filed here on June 24 at about 7:15 p.m. This Court's order setting a hearing before us on June 26 at 11 a.m., a course which I joined only to avoid the possibility of even more peremptory action by the Court, was issued less than 24 hours before. The record in the Post case was filed with the Clerk shortly before 1 p.m. on June 25; the record in the Times case did not arrive until 7 or 8 o'clock that same night. The briefs of the parties were received less than two hours before argument on June 26.

          This frenzied train of events took place in the name of the presumption against prior restraints created by the First Amendment. Due regard for the extraordinarily important and difficult questions involved in these litigations should have led the Court to shun such a precipitate timetable. In order to decide the merits of these cases properly, some or all of the following questions should have been faced:

          1. Whether the Attorney General is authorized to bring these suits in the name of the United States. Com-

Page 754

pare In re Debs, 158 U.S. 564, 15 S.Ct. 900, 39 L.Ed. 1092 (1895), with Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579, 72 S.Ct. 863, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1952). This question involves as well the construction and validity of a singularly opaque statute—the Espionage Act, 18 U.S.C. § 793(e).

          2. Whether the First Amendment permits the federal courts to enjoin publication of stories which would present a serious threat to national security. See Near v. Minnesota, ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 716, 51 S.Ct. 625, 631, 75 L.Ed. 1357 (1931) (dictum).

          3. Whether the threat to publish highly secret documents is of itself a sufficient implication of national security to justify an injunction on the theory that regardless of the contents of the documents harm enough results simply from the demonstration of such a breach of secrecy.

          4. Whether the unauthorized disclosure of any of these particular documents would seriously impair the national security.

          5. What weight should be given to the opinion of high officers in the Executive Branch of the Government with respect to questions 3 and 4.

          6. Whether the newspapers are entitled to retain and use the documents notwithstanding the seemingly uncontested facts that the documents, or the originals of which they are duplicates, were purloined from the Government's possession and that the newspapers received them with knowledge that they had been feloniously acquired. Cf. Liberty Lobby, Inc. v. Pearson, 129 U.S.App.D.C. 74, 390 F.2d 489 (1967, amended 1968).

          7. Whether the threatened harm to the national security or the Government's possessory interest in the documents justifies the issuance of an injunction against publication in light of—

          a. The strong First Amendment policy against prior restraints on publication;

Page 755

          b. The doctrine against enjoining conduct in violation of criminal statutes; and

          c. The extent to which the materials at issue have apparently already been otherwise disseminated.

          These are difficult questions of fact, of law, and of judgment; the potential consequences of erroneous decision are enormous. The time which has been available to us, to the lower courts,* and to the parties has been wholly inadequate for giving these cases the kind of consideration they deserve. It is a reflection on the stability of the judicial process that these great issues—as important as any that have arisen during my time on the Court—should have been decided under the pressures engendered by th torrent of publicity that has attended these litigations from their inception.

          Forced as I am to reach the merits of these cases, I dissent from the opinion and judgments of the Court. Within the severe limitations imposed by the time constraints under which I have been required to operate, I can only state my reasons in telescoped form, even though in different circumstances I would have felt constrained to deal with the cases in the fuller sweep indicated above.

          It is a sufficient basis for affirming the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit in the Times litigation to observe that its order must rest on the conclusion that because of the time elements the Government had not been given an adequate opportunity to present its case

Page 756

to the District Court. At the least this conclusion was not an abuse of discretion.

          In the Post litigation the Government had more time to prepare; this was apparently the basis for the refusal of the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit on rehearing to conform its judgment to that of the Second Circuit. But I think there is another and more fundamental reason why this judgment cannot stand—a reason which also furnishes an additional ground for not reinstating the judgment of the District Court in the Times litigation, set aside by the Court of Appeals. It is plain to me that the scope of the judicial function in passing upon the activities of the Executive Branch of the Government in the field of foreign affairs is very narrowly restricted. This view is, I think, dictated by the concept of separation of powers upon which our constitutional system rests.

          In a speech on the floor of the House of Representatives, Chief Justice John Marshall, then a member of that body, stated:

          'The President is the sole organ of the nation in its external relations, and its sole representative with foreign nations.' 10 Annals of Cong. 613.

          From that time, shortly after the founding of the Nation, to this, there has been no substantial challenge to this description of the scope of executive power. See United States v. Curtiss-Wright Export Corp., 299 U.S. 304, 319—321, 57 S.Ct. 216, 220—221, 81 L.Ed. 255 (1936), collecting authorities.

          From this constitutional primacy in the field of foreign affairs, it seems to me that certain conclusions necessarily follow. Some of these were stated concisely by President Washington, declining the request of the House of Representatives for the papers leading up to the negotiation of the Jay Treaty:

          'The nature of foreign negotiations requires caution, and their success must often depend on secrecy;

Page 757

          and even when brought to a conclusion a full disclosure of all the measures, demands, or eventual concessions which may have been proposed or contemplated would be extremely impolitic; for this might have a pernicious influence on future negotiations, or produce immediate inconveniences, perhaps danger and mischief, in relation to other powers.' 1 J. Richardson, Messages and Papers of the Presidents 194—195 (1896).

          The power to evaluate the 'pernicious influence' of premature disclosure is not, however, lodged in the Executive alone. I agree that, in performance of its duty to protect the values of the First Amendment against political pressures, the judiciary must review the initial Executive determination to the point of satisfying itself that the subject matter of the dispute does lie within the proper compass of the President's foreign relations power. Constitutional considerations forbid 'a complete abandonment of judicial control.' Cf. United States v. Reynolds, 345 U.S. 1, 8, 73 S.Ct. 528, 532, 97 L.Ed. 727 (1953). Moreover the judiciary may properly insist that the determination that disclosure of the subject matter would irreparably impair the national security be made by the head of the Executive Department concerned—here the Secretary of State or the Secretary of Defense after actual personal consideration by that officer. This safeguard is required in the analogous area of executive claims of privilege for secrets of state. See id., at 8 and n. 20, 73 S.Ct., at 532; Duncan v. Cammell, Laird & Co., (1942) A.C. 624, 638 (House of Lords).

          But in my judgment the judiciary may not properly go beyond these two inquiries and redetermine for itself the probable impact of disclosure on the national security.

          '(T)he very nature of executive decisions as to foreign policy is political, not judicial. Such de-

Page 758

          cisions are wholly confided by our Constitution to the political departments of the government, Executive and Legislative. They are delicate, complex, and involve large elements of prophecy. They are and should be undertaken only by those directly responsible to the people whose welfare they advance or imperil. They are decisions of a kind for which the Judiciary has neither aptitude, facilities nor responsibility and have long been held to belong in the domain of political power not subject to judicial intrusion or inquiry.' Chicago & Southern Air Lines, Inc. v. Waterman Steamship Corp., 333 U.S. 103, 111, 68 S.Ct. 431, 436, 92 L.Ed. 568 (1948) (Jackson J.).

          Even if there is some room for the judiciary to override the executive determination, it is plain that the scope of review must be exceedingly narrow. I can see no indication in the opinions of either the District Court or the Court of Appeals in the Post litigation that the conclusions of the Executive were given even the deference owing to an administrative agency, much less that owing to a co-equal branch of the Government operating within the field of its constitutional prerogative.

          Accordingly, I would vacate the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit on this ground and remand the case for further proceedings in the District Court. Before the commencement of such further proceedings, due opportunity should be afforded the Government for procuring from the Secretary of State or the Secretary of Defense or both an expression of their views on the issue of national security. The ensuing review by the District Court should be in accordance with the views expressed in this opinion. And for the reasons stated above I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit.

          Pending further hearings in each case conducted under the appropriate ground rules, I would continue the

Page 759

restraints on publication. I cannot believe that the doctrine prohibiting prior restraints reaches to the point of preventing courts from maintaining the status quo long enough to act responsibly in matters of such national importance as those involved here.

           Mr. Justice BLACKMUN, dissenting.

          I join Mr. Justice HARLAN in his dissent. I also am in substantial accord with much that Mr. Justice WHITE says, by way of admonition, in the latter part of his opinion.

          At this point the focus is on only the comparatively few documents specified by the Government as critical. So far as the other material—vast in amount—is concerned, let it be published and published forthwith if the newspapers, once the strain is gone and the sensationalism is eased, still feel the urge so to do.

          But we are concerned here with the few documents specified from the 47 volumes. Almost 70 years ago Mr. Justice Holmes, dissenting in a celebrated case, observed:

          'Great cases, like hard cases, make bad law. For great cases are called great, not by reason of their real importance in shaping the law of the future, but because of some accident of immediate overwhelming interest which appeals to the feelings and distorts the judgment. These immediate interests exercise a kind of hydraulic pressure * * *.' Northern Securities Co. v. United States, 193 U.S. 197, 400—401, 24 S.Ct. 436, 468, 48 L.Ed. 679 (1904).

          The present cases, if not great, are at least unusual in their posture and implications, and the Holmes observation certainly has pertinent application.

          The New York Times clandestinely devoted a period of three months to examining the 47 volumes that came into its unauthorized possession. Once it had begun publi-

Page 760

cation of material from those volumes, the New York case now before us emerged. It immediately assumed, and ever since has maintained, a frenetic pace and character. Seemingly once publication started, the material could not be made public fast enough. Seemingly, from then on, every deferral or delay, by restraint or otherwise, was abhorrent and was to be deemed violative of the First Amendment and of the public's 'right immediately to know.' Yet that newspaper stood before us at oral argument and professed criticism of the Government for not lodging its protest earlier than by a Monday telegram following the initial Sunday publication.

          The District of Columbia case is much the same.

          Two federal district courts, two United States courts of appeals, and this Court—within a period of less than three weeks from inception until today—have been pressed into hurried decision of profound constitutional issues on inadequately developed and largely assumed facts without the careful deliberation that, one would hope, should characterize the American judicial process. There has been much writing about the law and little knowledge and less digestion of the facts. In the New York case the judges, both trial and appellate, had not yet examined the basic material when the case was brought here. In the District of Columbia case, little more was done, and what was accomplished in this respect was only on required remand, with the Washington Post, on the axcuse that it was trying to protect its source of information, initially refusing to reveal what material it actually possessed, and with the District Court forced to make assumptions as to that possession.

          With such respect as may be due to the contrary view, this, in my opinion, is not the way to try a lawsuit of this magnitude and asserted importance. It is not the way for federal courts to adjudicate, and to be required to adjudicate, issues that allegedly concern the Nation's

Page 761

vital welfare. The country would be none the worse off were the cases tried quickly, to be sure, but in the customary and properly deliberative manner. The most recent of the material, it is said, dates no later than 1968, already about three years ago, and the Times itself took three months to formulate its plan of procedure and, thus, deprived its public for that period.

          The First Amendment, after all, is only one part of an entire Constitution. Article II of the great document vests in the Executive Branch primary power over the conduct of foreign affairs and places in that branch the responsibility for the Nation's safety. Each provision of the Constitution is important, and I cannot subscribe to a doctrine of unlimited absolutism for the First Amendment at the cost of downgrading other provisions. First Amendment absolutism has never commanded a majority of this Court. See, for example, Near v. Minnesota, ex rel. Olson, 283 U.S. 697, 708, 51 S.Ct. 625, 628, 75 L.Ed. 1357 (1931), and Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47, 52, 39 S.Ct. 247, 249, 63 L.Ed. 470 (1919). What is needed here is a weighing, upon properly developed standards, of the broad right of the press to print and of the very narrow right of the Government to prevent. Such standards are not yet developed. The parties here are in disagreement as to what those standards should be. But even the newspapers concede that there are situations where restraint is in order and is constitutional. Mr. Justice Holmes gave us a suggestion when he said in Schenck,

          'It is a question of proximity and degree. When a nation is at war many things that might be said in time of peace are such a hindrance to its effort that their utterance will not be endured so long as men fight and that no Court could regard them as protected by any constitutional right.' 249 U.S., at 52, 39 S.Ct., at 249.

          I therefore would remand these cases to be developed expeditiously, of course, but on a schedule permitting the

Page 762

orderly presentation of evidence from both sides, with the use of discovery, if necessary, as authorized by the rules, and with the preparation of briefs, oral argument, and court opinions of a quality better than has been seen to this point. In making this last statement, I criticize no lawyer or judge. I know from past personal experience the agony of time pressure in the preparation of litigation. But these cases and the issues involved and the courts, including this one, deserve better than has been produced thus far.

          It may well be that if these cases were allowed to develop as they should be developed, and to be tried as lawyers should try them and as courts should hear them, free of pressure and panic and sensationalism, other light would be shed on the situation and contrary considerations, for me, might prevail. But that is not the present posture of the litigation.

          The Court, however, decides the cases today the other way. I therefore add one final comment.

          I strongly urge, and sincerely hope, that these two newspapers will be fully aware of their ultimate responsibilities to the United States of America. Judge Wilkey, dissenting in the District of Columbia case, after a review of only the affidavits before his court (the basic papers had not then been made available by either party), concluded that there were a number of examples of documents that, if in the possession of the Post, and if published, 'could clearly result in great harm to the nation,' and he defined 'harm' to mean 'the death of soldiers, the destruction of alliances, the greatly increased difficulty of negotiation with our enemies, the inability of our diplomats to negotiate * * *.' I, for one, have now been able to give at least some cursory study not only to the affidavits, but to the material itself. I regreat to say that from this examination I fear that Judge Wilkey's statements have possible foundation. I therefore share

Page 763

his concern. I hope that damage has not already been done. If, however, damage has been done, and if, with the Court's action today, these newspapers proceed to publish the critical documents and there results therefrom 'the death of soldiers, the destruction of alliances, the greatly increased difficulty of negotiation with our enemies, the inability of our diplomats to negotiate,' to which list I might add the factors of prolongation of the war and of further delay in the freeing of United States prisoners, then the Nation's people will know where the responsibility for these sad consequences rests.

1. In introducing the Bill of Rights in the House of Representatives, Madison said: '(B)ut I believe that the great mass of the people who opposed (the Constitution), disliked it because it did not contain effectual provisions against the encroachments on particular rights * * *.' 1 Annals of Cong. 433. Congressman Goodhue added: '(I)t is the wish of many of our constituents, that something should be added to the Constitution, to secure in a stronger manner their liberties from the inroads of power.' Id., at 426.

2. The other parts were:

'The civil rights of none shall be abridged on account of religious belief or worship, nor shall any national religion be established, nor shall the full and equal rights of conscience be in any manner, or on any pretext, infringed.'

'The people shall not be restrained from peaceably assembling and consulting for their common good; nor from applying to the Legislature by petitions, or remonstrances, for redress of their grievances.' 1 Annals of Cong. 434.

3. Tr. of Oral Arg. 76.

4. Brief for the United States 13—14.

5. Compare the views of the Solicitor General with those of James Madison, the author of the First Amendment. When speaking of the Bill of Rights in the House of Representatives, Madison said: 'If they (the first ten amendments) are incorporated into the Constitution, independent tribunals of justice will consider themselves in a peculiar manner the guardians of those rights; they will be an impenetrable bulwark against every assumption of power in the Legislative or Executive; they will be naturally led to resist every encroachment upon rights expressly stipulated for in the Constitution by the declaration of rights.' 1 Annals of Cong. 439.

6. De Jonge v. Oregon, 299 U.S. 353, 365, 57 S.Ct. 255, 260, 81 L.Ed. 278.

1. See Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U.S. 250, 267, 72 S.Ct. 725, 736, 96 L.Ed. 919 (dissenting opinion of Mr. Justice Black), 284, 72 S.Ct. 744 (my dissenting opinion); Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 508, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1321, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (my dissenting opinion which Mr. Justice Black joined); Yates v. United States, 354 U.S. 298, 339, 77 S.Ct. 1064, 1087, 1 L.Ed.2d 1356 (separate opinion of Mr. Justice Black which I joined); New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 293, 84 S.Ct. 710, 733, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (concurring opinion of Mr. Justice Black which I joined); Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 64, 80, 85 S.Ct. 209, 218, 13 L.Ed.2d 125 (my concurring opinion which Mr. Justice Black joined).

2. These documents contain data concerning the communications system of the United States, the publication of which is made a crime. But the criminal sanction is not urged by the United States as the basis of equity power.

3. There are numerous sets of this material in existence and they apparently are not under any controlled custody. Moreover, the President has sent a set to the Congress. We start then with a case where there already is rather wide distribution of the material that is destined for publicity, not secrecy. I have gone over the material listed in the in camera brief of the United States. It is all history, not future events. None of it is more recent than 1968.

* Freedman v. Maryland, 380 U.S. 51, 85 S.Ct. 734, 13 L.Ed.2d 649 (1965), and similar cases regarding temporary restraints of allegedly obscene materials are not in point. For those cases rest upon the proposition that 'obscenity is not protected by the freedoms of speech and press.' Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 481, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1307, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957). Here there is no question but that the material sought to be suppressed is within the protection of the First Amendment; the only question is whether, notwithstanding that fact, its publication may be enjoined for a time because of the presence of an overwhelming national interest. Similarly, copyright cases have no pertinence here: the Government is not asserting an interest in the particular form of words chosen in the documents, but is seeking to suppress the ideas expressed therein. And the copyright laws, of course, protect only the form of expression and not the ideas expressed.

1. The President's power to make treaties and to appoint ambassadors is, of course, limited by the requirement of Art. II, § 2, of the Constitution that he obtain the advice and consent of the Senate. Article I, § 8, empowers Congress to 'raise and support Armies,' and 'provide and maintain a Navy.' And, of course, Congress alone can declare war. This power was last exercised almost 30 years ago at the inception of World War II. Since the end of that war in 1945, the Armed Forces of the United States have suffered approximately half a million casualties in various parts of the world.

2. See Chicago & Southern Air Lines Inc. v. Waterman S.S. Corp., 333 U.S. 103, 68 S.Ct. 431, 92 L.Ed. 568; Kiyoshi Hirabayashi v. United States, 320 U.S. 81, 63 S.Ct. 1375, 87 L.Ed. 1774; United States v. Curtiss-Wright Export Corp., 299 U.S. 304, 57 S.Ct. 216, 81 L.Ed. 255; cf. Mora v. McNamara, 389 U.S. 934, 88 S.Ct. 282, 19 L.Ed.2d 287 (Stewart, J., dissenting).

3. 'It is quite apparent that if, in the maintenance of our international relations, embarrassment—perhaps serious embarrassment—is to be avoided and success for our aims achieved, congressional legislation which is to be made effective through negotiation and inquiry within the international field must often accord to the President a degree of discretion and freedom from statutory restriction which would not be admissible were domestic affairs alone involved. Moreover, he, not Congress, has the better opportunity of knowing the conditions which prevail in foreign countries, and especially is this true in time of war. He has his confidential sources of information. He has his agents in the form of diplomatic, consular and other officials. Secrecy in respect of information gathered by them may be highly necessary, and the premature disclosure of it productive of harmful results. Indeed, so clearly is this true that the first President refused to accede to a request to lay before the House of Representatives the instructions, correspondence and documents relating to the negotiation of the Jay Treaty—a refusal the wisdom of which was recognized by the House itself and has never since been doubted. * * *' United States v. Curtiss-Wright Export Corp., 299 U.S. 304, 320, 57 S.Ct. 216, 221, 81 L.Ed. 255.

1. The Congress has authorized a strain of prior restraints against private parties in certain instances. The National Labor Relations Board routinely issues cease-and-desist orders against employers who it finds have threatened or coerced employees in the exercise of protected rights. See 29 U.S.C. § 160(c). Similarly, the Federal Trade Commission is empowered to impose cease-and-desist orders against unfair methods of competition. 15 U.S.C. § 45(b). Such orders can, and quite often do, restrict what may be spoken or written under certain circumstances. See, e.g., NLRB v. Gissel Packing Co., 395 U.S. 575, 616—620, 89 S.Ct. 1918, 1941—1943, 23 L.Ed.2d 547 (1969). Article I, § 8, of the Constitution authorizes Congress to secure the 'exclusive right' of authors to their writings, and no one denies that a newspaper can properly be enjoined from publishing the copyrighted works of another. See L. A. Westermann Co. v. Dispatch Printing Co., 249 U.S. 100, 39 S.Ct. 194, 63 L.Ed. 499 (1919). Newspapers do themselves rely from time to time on the copyright as a means of protecting their accounts of important events. However, those enjoined under the statutes relating to the National Labor Relations Board and the Federal Trade Commission are private parties, not the press; and when the press is enjoined under the copyright laws the complainant is a private copyright holder enforcing a private right. These situations are quite distinct from the Government's request for an injunction against publishing information about the affairs of government, a request admittedly not based on any statute.

2. The 'grave and irreparable danger' standard is that asserted by the Government in this Court. In remanding to Judge Gurfein for further hearings in the Times litigation, five members of the Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit directed him to determine whether disclosure of certain items specified with particularity by the Government would 'pose such grave and immediate danger to the security of the United States as to warrant their publication being enjoined.'

3. 'Whoever, in time of war, in violation of reasonable regulations to be prescribed by the President, which he is hereby authorized to make and promulgate, shall publish any information with respect to the movement, numbers, description, condition, or disposition of any of the armed forces, ships, aircraft, or war materials of the United States, or with respect to the plans or conduct of any naval or military operations, or with respect to any works or measures undertaken for or connected with, or intended for the fortification or defense of any place, or any other information relating to the public defense calculated to be useful to the enemy, shall be punished by a fine * * * or by imprisonment * * *.' 55 Cong.Rec. 2100.

4. Senator Ashurst also urged that "freedom of the press' means freedom from the restraints of a censor, means the absolute liberty and right to publish whatever you wish; but you take your chances of punishment in the courts of your country for the violation of the laws of libel, slander, and treason.' 55 Cong.Rec. 2005.

5. Title 18 U.S.C. § 797 provides:

'On and after thirty days from the date upon which the President defines any vital military or naval installation or equipment as being within the category contemplated under section 795 of this title, whoever reproduces, publishes, sells, or gives away any photograph, sketch, picture, drawing, map, or graphical representation of the vital military or naval installations or equipment so defined, without first obtaining permission of the commanding officer of the military or naval post, camp, or station concerned, or higher authority, unless such photograph, sketch, picture, drawing, map, or graphical representation has clearly indicated thereon that it has been censored by the proper military or naval authority, shall be fined not more than $1,000 or imprisoned not more than one year, or both.'

6. In relevant part 18 U.S.C. § 798 provides:

'(a) Whoever knowingly and willfully communicates, furnishes, transmits, or otherwise makes available to an unauthorized person, or publishes, or uses in any manner prejudicial to the safety or interest of the United States or for the benefit of any foreign government to the detriment of the United States any classified information—

'(1) concerning the nature, preparation, or use of any code, cipher, or cryptographic system of the United States or any foreign government; or

'(2) concerning the design, construction, use, maintenance, or repair of any device, apparatus, or appliance used or prepared or planned for use by the United States or any foreign government for cryptographic or communication intelligence purposes; or

'(3) concerning the communication intelligence activities of the United States or any foreign government; or

'(4) obtained by the process of communication intelligence from the communications of any foreign government, knowing the same to have been obtained by such processes—

'Shall be fined not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than ten years, or both.'

7. The purport of 18 U.S.C. § 798 is clear. Both the House and Senate Reports on the bill, in identical terms, speak of furthering the security of the United States by preventing disclosure of information concerning the cryptographic systems and the communication intelligence systems of the United States, and explaining that '(t)his bill make it a crime to reveal the methods, techniques, and mate riel used in the transmission by this Nation of enciphered or coded messages. * * * Further, it makes it a crime to reveal methods used by this Nation in breaking the secret codes of a foreign nation. It also prohibits under certain penalties the divulging of any information which may have come into this Government's hands as a result of such a code-breaking.' H.R.Rep.No.1895, 81st Cong., 2d Sess., 1 (1950). The narrow reach of the statute was explained as covering 'only a small category of classified matter, a category which is both vital and vulnerable to an almost unique degree.' Id., at 2. Existing legislation was deemed inadequate.

'At present two other acts protect this information, but only in a limited way. These are the Espionage Act of 1917 (40 Stat. 217) and the act of June 10, 1933 (48 Stat. 122). Under the first, unauthorized revelation of information of this kind can be penalized only if it can be proved that the person making the revelation did so with an intent to injure the United States. Under the second, only diplomatic codes and messages transmitted in diplomatic codes are protected. The present bill is designed to protect against knowing and willful publication or any other revelation of all important information affecting the United States communication intelligence operations and all direct information about all United States codes and ciphers.' Ibid. Section 798 obviously was intended to cover publications by non-employees of the Government and to ease the Government's burden in obtaining convictions. See H.R.Rep.No.1895, supra, at 2 5. The identical Senate Report, not cited in parallel in the text of this footnote, is S.Rep.No.111, 81st Cong., 1st Sess. (1949).

8. Section 793(e) of 18 U.S.C. provides that:

'(e) Whoever having unauthorized possession of, access to, or control over any document, writing, code book, signal book, sketch, photograph, photographic negative, blueprint, plan, map, model, instrument, appliance, or note relating to the national defense, or information relating to the national defense which information the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation, willfully communicates, delivers, transmits or causes to be communicated, delivered, or transmitted, or attempts to communicate, deliver, transmit or cause to be communicated, delivered, or transmitted the same to any person not entitled to receive it, or willfully retains the same and fails to deliver it to the officer or employee of the United States entitled to receive it;' is guilty of an offense punishable by 10 years in prison, a $10,000 fine, or both. It should also be noted that 18 U.S.C. § 793(g), added in 1950 (see 64 Stat. 1004; S.Rep.No.2369, pt. 1, 81st Cong., 2d Sess., 9 (1950)), provides that '(i)f two or more persons conspire to violate any of the foregoing provisions of this section, and one or more of such persons do any act to effect the object of the conspiracy, each of the parties to such conspiracy shall be subject to the punishment provided for the offense which is the object of such conspiracy.'

9. The amendment of § 793 that added subsection (e) was part of the Subversive Activities Control Act of 1950, which was in turn Title I of the Internal Security Act of 1950. See 64 Stat. 987. The report of the Senate Judiciary Committee best explains the purposes of the amendment:

'Section 18 of the bill amends section 793 of title 18 of the United States Code (espionage statute). The several paragraphs of section 793 of title 18 are designated as subsections (a) through (g) for purposes of convenient reference. The significant changes which would be made in section 793 of title 18 are as follows:

'(1) Amends the fourth paragraph of section 793, title 18 (subsec. (d)), to cover the unlawful dissemination of 'information relating to the national defense which information the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation.' The phrase 'which information the possessor has reason to believe could be used to the injury of the United States or to the advantage of any foreign nation' would modify only 'information relating to the national defense' and not the other items enumerated in the subsection. The fourth paragraph of section 793 is also amended to provide that only those with lawful possession of the items relating to national defense enumerated therein may retain them subject to demand therefor. Those who have unauthorized possession of such items are treated in a separate subsection.

'(2) Amends section 793, title 18 (subsec. (e)), to provide that unauthorized possessors of items enumerated in paragraph 4 of section 793 must surrender possession thereof to the proper authorities without demand. Existing law provides no penalty for the unauthorized possession of such items unless a demand for them is made by the person entitled to receive them. The dangers surrounding the unauthorized possession of such items are self-evident, and it is deemed advisable to require their surrender in such a case, regardless of demand, especially since their unauthorized possession may be unknown to the authorities who would otherwise make the demand. The only difference between subsection (d) and subsection (e) of section 793 is that a demand by the person entitled to receive the items would be a necessary element of an offense under subsection (d) where the possession is lawful, whereas such

a demand would not be a necessary element of an offense under subsection (e) where the possession is unauthorized.' S.Rep.No.2369, pt. 1, 81st Cong., 2d Sess., 8—9 (1950) (emphasis added).

It seems clear from the foregoing, contrary to the intimations of the District Court for the Southern District of New York in this case, that in prosecuting for communicating or withholding a 'document' as contrasted with similar action with respect to 'information' the Government need not prove an intent to injure the United States or to benefit a foreign nation but only willful and knowing conduct. The District Court relied on Gorin v. United States, 312 U.S. 19, 61 S.Ct. 429, 85 L.Ed. 488 (1941). But that case arose under other parts of the predecessor to § 793, see 312 U.S., at 21—22, 61 S.Ct., at 430—432—parts that imposed different intent standards not repeated in § 793(d) or § 793(e). Cf. 18 U.S.C. § 793(a), (b), and (c). Also, from the face of subsection (e) and from the context of the Act of which it was a part, it seems undeniable that a newspaper, as well as others unconnected with the Government, are vulnerable to prosecution under § 793(e) if they communicate or withhold the materials covered by that section. The District Court ruled that 'communication' did not reach publication by a newspaper of documents relating to the national defense. I intimate no views on the correctness of that conclusion. But neither communication nor publication is necessary to violate the subsection.

10. Also relevant is 18 U.S.C. § 794. Subsection (b) thereof forbids in time of war the collection or publication, with intent that it shall be communicated to the enemy, of any information with respect to the movements of military forces, 'or with respect to the plans or conduct * * * of any naval or military operations * * * or any other information relating to the public defense, which might be useful to the enemy * * *.'

1. See n. 3, infra.

2. But see Kent v. Dulles, 357 U.S. 116, 78 S.Ct. 1113, 2 L.Ed.2d 1204 (1958); Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579, 72 S.Ct. 863, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1952).

3. There are several other statutory provisions prohibiting and punishing the dissemination of information, the disclosure of which Congress thought sufficiently imperiled national security to warrant that result. These include 42 U.S.C. §§ 2161 through 2166 relating to the authority of the Atomic Energy Commission to classify and declassify 'Restricted Data' ('Restricted Data' is a term of art employed uniquely by the Atomic Energy Act). Specifically, 42 U.S.C. § 2162 authorizes the Atomic Energy Commission to classify certain information. Title 42 U.S.C. § 2274, subsection (a), provides penalties for a person who 'communicates, transmits, or discloses (restricted data) * * * with intent to injure the United States or with intent to secure an advantage to any foreign nation * * *.' Subsection (b) of § 2274 provides lesser penalties for one who 'communicates, transmits, or discloses' such information 'with reason to believe such data will be utilized to injure the United States or to secure an advantage to any foreign nation * * *.' Other sections of Title 42 of the United States Code dealing with atomic energy prohibit and punish acquisition, removal, concealment, tampering with, alteration, mutilation, or destruction of documents incorporating 'Restricted Data' and provide penalties for employees and former employees of the Atomic Energy Commission, the armed services, contractors and licensees of the Atomic Energy Commission. Title 42 U.S.C. §§ 2276, 2277. Title 50 U.S.C.App. § 781, 56 Stat. 390, prohibits the making of any sketch or other representation of military installations or any military equipment located on any military installation, as specified; and indeed Congress in the National Defense Act of 1940, 54 Stat. 676, as amended, 56 Stat. 179, conferred jurisdiction on federal district courts over civil actions 'to enjoin any violation' thereof. 50 U.S.C.App. § 1152(6). Title 50 U.S.C. § 783(b) makes it unlawful for any officers or employees of the United States or any corporation which is owned by the United States to communicate material which has been 'classified' by the President to any person who that governmental employee knows or has reason to believe is an agent or representative of any foreign government or any Communist organization.

1. As noted elsewhere the Times conducted its analysis of the 47 volumes of Government documents over a period of several months and did so with a degree of security that a government might envy. Such security was essential, of course, to protect the enterprise from others. Meanwhile the Times has copyrighted its material and there were strong intimations in the oral argument that the Times contemplated enjoining its use by any other publisher in violation of its copyright. Paradoxically this would afford it a protection, analogous to prior restraint, against all others—a protection the Times denies the Government of the United States.

2. Interestingly the Times explained its refusal to allow the Government to examine its own purloined documents by saying in substance this might compromise its sources and informants! The Times thus asserts a right to guard the secrecy of its sources while denying that the Government of the United States has that power.

3. With respect to the question of inherent power of the Executive to classify papers, records, and documents as secret, or otherwise unavailable for public exposure, and to secure aid of the courts for enforcement, there may be an analogy with respect to this Court. No statute gives this Court express power to establish and enforce the utmost security measures for the secrecy of our deliberations and records. Yet I have little doubt as to the inherent power of the Court to protect the confidentiality of its internal operations by whatever judicial measures may be required.

* The hearing in the Post case before Judge Gesell began at 8 a.m. on June 21, and his decision was rendered, under the hammer of a deadline imposed by the Court of Appeals, shortly before 5 p.m. on the same day. The hearing in the Times case before Judge Gurfein was held on June 18 and his decision was rendered on June 19. The Government's appeals in the two cases were heard by the Courts of Appeals for the District of Columbia and Second Circuits, each court sitting en banc, on June 22. Each court rendered its decision on the following afternoon.

15.20 Branzburg v. Hayes 15.20 Branzburg v. Hayes

BRANZBURG v. HAYES et al., JUDGES

No. 70-85.

Argued February 23, 1972

Decided June 29, 1972*

White, J., wrote the opinion of the Court, in which Burger, C. J., and Blackmun, Powell, and Rehnquist, JJ., joined. Powell, J., filed a concurring opinion, post, p. 709. Douglas, J., filed a dissenting opinion, post, p. 711. Stewart, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Brennan and Marshall, JJ., joined, post, p. 725.

Edgar A. Zingman argued the cause for petitioner in No. 70-85. With him on the briefs was Robert C. Ewald. E. Barrett Prettyman, Jr., argued the cause for petitioner in No. 70-94. With him on the briefs was William H. Carey. Solicitor General Griswold argued the cause for the United States in No. 70-57. With him on the briefs were Assistant Attorney General Wilson, Assistant Attorney General Petersen, William Bradford Reynolds, Beatrice Rosenberg, and Sidney M. Glazer.

*666Edwin A. Schroering, Jr., argued the cause for respondents in No. 70-85. With him on the brief was W. C. Fisher, Jr. Joseph J. Hurley, First Assistant Attorney General, argued the cause for respondent, Commonwealth of Massachusetts, in No. 70-94. With him on the brief were Robert H. Quinn, Attorney General, Walter H. Mayo III, Assistant Attorney General, and Lawrence T. Bench, Deputy Assistant Attorney General. Anthony Q. Amsterdam argued the cause for respondent in No. 70-57. With him on the brief were Jack Green-berg, James M. Nabrit III, Charles Stephen Ralston, and William Bennett Turner.

William Bradford Reynolds argued the cause for the United States as amicus curiae urging affirmance in Nos. 70-85 and 70-94. With him on the brief were Solicitor General Griswold, Assistant Attorney General Wilson, and Beatrice Rosenberg.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance in No. 70-57 and reversal in Nos. 70-85 and 70-94 were filed by Alexander M. Bickel, Lawrence J. McKay, Floyd Abrams, Daniel Sheehan, Corydon B. Dunham, Clarence J. Fried, Alan J. Hruska, Robert S. Rifkind, Anthony A. Dean, and Edward C. Wallace for New York Times Co., Inc., et al.; by Don H. Reuben, Lawrence Gunnels, Steven L. Bashwiner, and Thomas F. Ging for Chicago Tribune Co.; by Arthur B. Hanson for the American Newspaper Publishers Association; and by Irving Leuchter for the American Newspaper Guild, AFL-CIO, CLC.

John T. Corrigan filed a brief for the National District Attorneys Association urging reversal in No. 70-57 and affirmance in No. 70-94.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance in No. 70-57 were filed by Irwin Karp for the Authors League of America, Inc.; by W. Theodore Pierson and J. Laurent *667Scharff for the Radio Television News Directors Association; and by Earle K. Moore and Samuel Rabinove for the Office of Communication of the United Church of Christ et al.

Briefs of amici curiae in No. 70-57 were filed by Leo P. Larkin, Jr., Stanley Oodofsky, and John J. Sheehy for Washington Post Co. et al.; by Richard M. Schmidt, Jr., for the American Society of Newspaper Editors et al.; by Roger A. Clark for the National Press Photographers Association, Inc.; and by Melvin L. Wulf, Paul N. Hal-vonik, A. L. Wirin, Fred Okrand, and Lawrence R. Sperber for the American Civil Liberties Union et al.

Opinion of the Court by

Mr. Justice White,

announced by The Chief Justice.

The issue in these cases is whether requiring newsmen to appear and testify before state or federal grand juries abridges the freedom of speech and press guaranteed by the First Amendment. We hold that it does not.

I

The writ of certiorari in No. 70-85, Branzburg v. Hayes and Meigs, brings before us two judgments of the Kentucky Court of Appeals, both involving petitioner Branzburg, a staff reporter for the Courier-Journal, a daily newspaper published in Louisville, Kentucky.

On November 15, 1969, the Courier-Journal carried a story under petitioner’s by-line describing in detail his observations of two young residents of Jefferson County synthesizing hashish from marihuana, an activity which, they asserted, earned them about $5,000 in three weeks. The article included a photograph of a pair of hands working above a laboratory table on which was a substance identified by the caption as hashish. The article stated that petitioner had promised not to *668reveal the identity of the two hashish makers.1 Petitioner was shortly subpoenaed by the Jefferson County grand jury; he appeared, but refused to identify the individuals he had seen possessing marihuana or the persons he had seen making hashish from marihuana.2 A state trial court judge3 ordered petitioner to answer these questions and rejected his contention that the Kentucky reporters’ privilege statute, Ky. Rev. Stat. §421.100 (1962),4 the First Amendment of the United States Constitution, or §§ 1, 2, and 8 of the Kentucky Constitution authorized his refusal to answer. Petitioner then sought prohibition and mandamus in the Kentucky Court of Appeals on the same grounds, but the Court of Appeals denied the petition. Branzburg v. *669Pound, 461 S. W. 2d 345 (1970), as modified on denial of rehearing, Jan. 22, 1971. It held that petitioner had abandoned his First Amendment argument in a supplemental memorandum he had filed and tacitly rejected his argument based on the Kentucky Constitution. It also construed Ky. Rev. Stat. § 421.100 as affording a newsman the privilege of refusing to divulge the identity of an informant who supplied him with information, but held that the statute did not permit a reporter to refuse to testify about events he had observed personally, including the identities of those persons he had observed.

The second case involving petitioner Branzburg arose out of his later story published on January 10, 1971, which described in detail the use of drugs in Frankfort, Kentucky. The article reported that in order to provide a comprehensive survey of the “drug scene” in Frankfort, petitioner had “spent two weeks interviewing several dozen drug users in the capital city” and had seen some of them smoking marihuana. A number of conversations with and observations of several unnamed drug users were recounted. Subpoenaed to appear before a Franklin County grand jury “to testify in the matter of violation of statutes concerning use and sale of drugs,” petitioner Branzburg moved to quash the summons;5 the motion was denied, al*670though an order was issued protecting Branzburg from revealing “confidential associations, sources or information” but requiring that he “answer any questions which concern or pertain to any criminal act, the commission of which was actually observed by [him].” Prior to the time he was slated to appear before the grand jury, petitioner sought mandamus and prohibition from the Kentucky Court of Appeals, arguing that if he were forced to go before the grand jury or to answer questions regarding the identity of informants or disclose information given to him in confidence, his effectiveness as a reporter would be greatly damaged. The Court of Appeals once again denied the requested writs, reaffirming its construction of Ky. Rev. Stat. § 421.100, and rejecting petitioner’s claim of a First Amendment privilege. It distinguished Caldwell v. United States, 434 F. 2d 1081 (CA9 1970), and it also announced its “misgivings” about that decision, asserting that it represented “a drastic departure from the generally recognized rule that the sources of information of a newspaper reporter are not privileged under the First Amendment.” It characterized petitioner’s fear that his ability to obtain *671news would be destroyed as “so tenuous that it does not, in the opinion of this court, present an issue of abridgement of the freedom of the press within the meaning of that term as used in the Constitution of the United States.”

Petitioner sought a writ of certiorari to review both judgments of the Kentucky Court of Appeals, and we granted the writ.6 402 U. S. 942 (1971).

*672In re Pappas, No. 70-94, originated when petitioner Pappas, a television newsman-photographer working out of the Providence, Rhode Island, office of a New Bedford, Massachusetts, television station, was called to New Bedford on July 30, 1970, to report on civil disorders there which involved fires and other turmoil. He intended to cover a Black Panther news conference at that group’s headquarters in a boarded-up store. Petitioner found the streets around the store barricaded, but he ultimately gained entrance to the area and recorded and photographed a prepared statement read by one of the Black Panther leaders at about 3 p. m.7 He then asked for and received permission to reenter the area. Returning at about 9 o’ clock, he was allowed to enter and remain inside Panther headquarters. As a condition of entry, Pappas agreed not to disclose anything he saw or heard inside the store except an anticipated police raid, which Pappas, “on his own,” was free to photograph and report as he wished. Pappas stayed inside the headquarters for about three hours, but there was no police raid, and petitioner wrote no story and did not otherwise reveal what had occurred in the store while he was there. Two months later, petitioner was summoned before the Bristol *673County Grand Jury and appeared, answered questions as to his name, address, employment, and what he had seen and heard outside Panther headquarters, but refused to answer any questions about what had taken place inside headquarters while he was there, claiming that the First Amendment afforded him a privilege to protect confidential informants and their information. A second summons was then served upon him, again directing him to appear before the grand jury and “to give such evidence as he knows relating to any matters which may be inquired of on behalf of the Commonwealth before . . . the Grand Jury.” His motion to quash on First Amendment and other grounds was denied by the trial judge who, noting the absence of a statutory newsman’s privilege in Massachusetts, ruled that petitioner had no constitutional privilege to refuse to divulge to the grand jury what he had seen and heard, including the identity of persons he had observed. The case was reported for decision to the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts.8 The record there did not include a transcript of the hearing on the motion to quash, nor did it reveal the specific questions petitioner had refused to answer, the expected nature of his testimony, the nature of the grand jury investigation, or the likelihood of the grand jury’s securing the information it sought from petitioner by other means.9 The *674Supreme Judicial Court, however, took “judicial notice that in July, 1970, there were serious civil disorders in New Bedford, which involved street barricades, exclusion of the public from certain streets, fires, and similar turmoil. We were told at the arguments that there was gunfire in certain streets. We assume that the grand jury investigation was an appropriate effort to discover and indict those responsible for criminal acts.” 358 Mass. 604, 607, 266 N. E. 2d 297, 299 (1971). The court then reaffirmed prior Massachusetts holdings that testimonial privileges were “exceptional” and “limited,” stating that “[t]he principle that the public ‘has a right to every man’s evidence’ ” had usually been preferred, in the Commonwealth, to countervailing interests. Ibid. The court rejected the holding of the Ninth Circuit in Caldwell v. United States, supra, and “adhere [d] to the view that there exists no constitutional newsman’s privilege, either qualified or absolute, to refuse to appear and testify before a court or grand jury.” 10 358 Mass., at 612, 266 N. E. 2d, at 302-303. Any adverse effect upon the free dissemination of news by virtue of petitioner’s being called to testify was deemed to be only “indirect, theoretical, and uncertain.” Id., at 612, 266 N. E. 2d, at 302. The court concluded that “[t]he obligation of newsmen ... is that of every citizen ... to appear when summoned, with relevant written or other material when required, and to answer relevant and reasonable inquiries.” Id., at 612, 266 N. E. 2d, at 303. The court nevertheless noted that grand juries were subject to supervision by the presid*675ing judge, who had the duty “to prevent oppressive, unnecessary, irrelevant, and other improper inquiry and investigation,” ibid., to insure that a witness’ Fifth Amendment rights were not infringed, and to assess the propriety, necessity, and pertinence of the probable testimony to the investigation in progress.11 The burden was deemed to be on the witness to establish the impropriety of the summons or the questions asked. The denial of the motion to quash was affirmed and we granted a writ of certiorari to petitioner Pappas. 402 U. S. 942 (1971).

United States v. Caldwell, No. 70-57, arose from subpoenas issued by a federal grand jury in the Northern District of California to respondent Earl Caldwell, a reporter for the New York Times assigned to cover the Black Panther Party and other black militant groups. A subpoena duces tecum was served on respondent on February 2, 1970, ordering him to appear before the grand jury to testify and to bring with him notes and tape recordings of interviews given him for publication by officers and spokesmen of the Black Panther Party concerning the aims, purposes, and activities of that organization.12 Respondent objected to the scope *676of this subpoena, and an agreement between his counsel and the Government attorneys resulted in a continuance. A second subpoena, served on March 16, omitted the documentary requirement and simply ordered Caldwell “to appear ... to testify before the Grand Jury.” Respondent and his employer, the New York Times,13 moved to quash on the ground that the unlimited breadth of the subpoenas and the fact that Caldwell would have to appear in secret before the grand jury would destroy his working relationship with the Black Panther Party and “suppress vital First Amendment freedoms ... by driving a wedge of distrust and silence between the news media and the militants.” App. 7. Respondent argued that “so drastic an incursion upon First Amendment freedoms” should not be permitted “in the absence of a compelling governmental interest — not shown here — in requiring Mr. Caldwell's appearance before the grand jury.” Ibid. The motion was supported by amicus curiae memoranda from other publishing concerns and by affidavits from newsmen asserting the unfavorable impact on news sources of requiring reporters to appear before grand juries. The Government filed three memoranda in opposition to the motion to quash, each supported by affidavits. These documents stated that the grand jury was investigating, among other things, possible violations of a number of criminal statutes, including 18 U. S. C. § 871 (threats against the President), 18 U. S. C. *677§ 1751 (assassination, attempts to assassinate, conspiracy to assassinate the President), 18 U. S. C. § 231 (civil disorders), 18 U. S. C. § 2101 (interstate travel to incite a riot), and 18 U. S. C. § 1341 (mail frauds and swindles). It was recited that on November 15, 1969, an officer of the Black Panther Party made a publicly televised speech in which he had declared that “[w]e will kill Richard Nixon” and that this threat had been repeated in three subsequent issues of the Party newspaper. App. 66, 77. Also referred to were various writings by Caldwell about the Black Panther Party, including an article published in the New York Times on December 14, 1969, stating that “[i]n their role as the vanguard in a revolutionary struggle the Panthers have picked up guns,” and quoting the Chief of Staff of the Party as declaring: “We advocate the very direct overthrow of the Government by way of force and violence. By picking up guns and moving against it because we recognize it as being oppressive and in recognizing that we know that the only solution to it is armed struggle [sic].” App. 62. The Government also stated that the Chief of Staff of the Party had been indicted by the grand jury on December 3, 1969, for uttering threats against the life of the President in violation of 18 U. S. C. § 871 and that various efforts had been made to secure evidence of crimes under investigation through the immunization of persons allegedly associated with the Black Panther Party.

On April 6, the District Court denied the motion to quash, Application of Caldwell, 311 F. Supp. 358 (ND Cal. 1970), on the ground that “every person within the jurisdiction of the government” is bound to testify upon being properly summoned. Id., at 360 (emphasis in original) . Nevertheless, the court accepted respondent’s First Amendment arguments to the extent of issuing a protective order, providing that although respondent had to di*678vulge whatever information had been given to him for publication, he “shall not be required to reveal confidential associations, sources or information received, developed or maintained by him as a professional journalist in the course of his efforts to gather news for dissemination to the public through the press or other news media.” The court held that the First Amendment afforded respondent a privilege to refuse disclosure of such confidential information until there had been “a showing by the Government of a compelling and overriding national interest in requiring Mr. Caldwell’s testimony which cannot be served by any alternative means.” Id., at 362.

Subsequently,14 the term of the grand jury expired, a new grand jury was convened, and a new subpoena ad testificandum was issued and served on May 22, 1970. A new motion to quash by respondent and memorandum in opposition by the Government were filed, and, by stipulation of the parties, the motion was submitted on the prior record. The court denied the motion to quash, repeating the protective provisions in its prior order but this time directing Caldwell to appear before the grand jury pursuant to the May 22 subpoena. Respondent refused to appear before the grand jury, and the court issued an order to show cause why he should not be held in contempt. Upon his further refusal to go before the grand jury, respondent was ordered committed for contempt until such time as he complied with the court’s order or until the expiration of the term of the grand jury.

*679Respondent Caldwell appealed the contempt order,15 and the Court of Appeals reversed. Caldwell v. United States, 434 F. 2d 1081 (CA9 1970). Viewing the issue before it as whether Caldwell was required to appear before the grand jury at all, rather than the scope of permissible interrogation, the court first determined that the First Amendment provided a qualified testimonial privilege to newsmen; in its view, requiring a reporter like Caldwell to testify would deter his informants from communicating with him in the future and would cause him to censor his writings in an effort to avoid being subpoenaed. Absent compelling reasons for requiring his testimony, he was held privileged to withhold it. The court also held, for similar First Amendment reasons, that, absent some special showing of necessity by the Government, attendance by Caldwell at a secret meeting of the grand jury was something he was privileged to refuse because of the potential impact of such an appearance on the flow of news to the public. We granted the United States’ petition for certiorari.16 402 U. S. 942 (1971).

II

Petitioners Branzburg and Pappas and respondent Caldwell press First Amendment claims that may be simply put: that to gather news it is often necessary to agree either not to identify the source of information published or to publish only part of the facts revealed, or both; that if the reporter is nevertheless *680forced to reveal these confidences to a grand jury, the source so identified and other confidential sources of other reporters will be measurably deterred from furnishing publishable information, all to the detriment of the free flow of information protected by the First Amendment. Although the newsmen in these cases do not claim an absolute privilege against official interrogation in all circumstances, they assert that the reporter should not be forced either to appear or to testify before a grand jury or at trial until and unless sufficient grounds are shown for believing that the reporter possesses information relevant to a crime the grand jury is investigating, that the information the reporter has is unavailable from other sources, and that the need for the information is sufficiently compelling to override the claimed invasion of First Amendment interests occasioned by the disclosure. Principally relied upon are prior cases emphasizing the importance of the First Amendment guarantees to individual development and to our system of representative government,17 decisions requiring that official action with adverse impact on First Amendment rights be justified by a public interest that is “compelling” or “paramount,” 18 and those precedents establishing the principle that justifiable governmental goals may not be achieved by unduly broad means having an unnecessary impact *681on protected rights of speech, press, or association.19 The heart of the claim is that the burden on news gathering resulting from compelling reporters to disclose confidential information outweighs any public interest in obtaining the information.20

We do not question the significance of free speech, press, or assembly to the country’s welfare. Nor is it suggested that news gathering does not qualify for First Amendment protection; without some protection for seeking out the news, freedom of the press could be eviscerated. But these cases involve no intrusions upon speech or assembly, no prior restraint or restriction on what the press may publish, and no express or implied command that the press publish what it prefers to withhold. No exaction or tax for the privilege of publishing, and no penalty, civil or criminal, related to the content of published material is at issue here. The use of confidential sources by the press is not forbidden or restricted; reporters remain free to seek news from *682any source by means within the law. No attempt is made to require the press to publish its sources of information or indiscriminately to disclose them on request.

The sole issue before us is the obligation of reporters to respond to grand jury subpoenas as other citizens do and to answer questions relevant to an investigation into the commission of crime. Citizens generally are not constitutionally immune from grand jury subpoenas; and neither the First Amendment nor any other constitutional provision protects the average citizen from disclosing to a grand jury information that he has received in confidence.21 The claim is, however, that reporters are exempt from these obligations because if forced to respond to subpoenas and identify their sources or disclose other confidences, their informants will refuse or be reluctant to furnish newsworthy information in the future. This asserted burden on news gathering is said to make compelled testimony from newsmen constitutionally suspect and to require a privileged position for them.

It is clear that the First Amendment does not invalidate every incidental burdening of the press that may result from the enforcement of civil or criminal statutes of general applicability. Under prior cases, otherwise valid laws serving substantial public interests may be enforced against the press as against others, despite *683the possible burden that may be imposed. The Court has emphasized that “[t]he publisher of a newspaper has no special immunity from the application of general laws. He has no special privilege to invade the rights and liberties of others.” Associated Press v. NLRB, 301 U. S. 103, 132-133 (1937). It was there held that the Associated Press, a news-gathering and disseminating organization, was not exempt from the requirements of the National Labor Relations Act. The holding was reaffirmed in Oklahoma Press Publishing Co. v. Walling, 327 U. S. 186, 192-193 (1946), where the Court rejected the claim that applying the Fair Labor Standards Act to a newspaper publishing business would abridge the freedom of press guaranteed by the First Amendment. See also Mabee v. White Plains Publishing Co., 327 U. S. 178 (1946). Associated Press v. United States, 326 U. S. 1 (1945), similarly overruled assertions that the First Amendment precluded application of the Sherman Act to a news-gathering and disseminating organization. Cf. Indiana Farmer’s Guide Publishing Co. v. Prairie Farmer Publishing Co., 293 U. S. 268, 276 (1934); Citizen Publishing Co. v. United States, 394 U. S. 131, 139 (1969); Lorain Journal Co. v. United States, 342 U. S. 143, 155-156 (1951). Likewise, a newspaper may be subjected to nondiscriminatory forms of general taxation. Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U. S. 233, 250 (1936); Murdock v. Pennsylvania, 319 U. S. 105, 112 (1943).

The prevailing view is that the press is not free to publish with impunity everything and anything it desires to publish. Although it may deter or regulate what is said or published, the press may not circulate knowing or reckless falsehoods damaging to private reputation without subjecting itself to liability for damages, including punitive damages, or even criminal prosecution. See New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, *684279-280 (1964); Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 74 (1964); Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S. 130, 147 (1967) (opinion of Harlan, J.,); Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U. S. 265, 277 (1971). A newspaper or a journalist may also be punished for contempt of court, in appropriate circumstances. Craig v. Harney, 331 U. S. 367, 377-378 (1947).

It has generally been held that the First Amendment does not guarantee the press a constitutional right of special access to information not available to the public generally. Zemel v. Rusk, 381 U. S. 1, 16-17 (1965); New York Times Co. v. United States, 403 U. S. 713, 728-730 (1971), (Stewart, J., concurring); Tribune Review Publishing Co. v. Thomas, 254 F. 2d 883, 885 (CA3 1958) ; In the Matter of United Press Assns. v. Valente, 308 N. Y. 71, 77, 123 N. E. 2d 777, 778 (1954). In Zemel v. Rusk, supra, for example, the Court sustained the Government’s refusal to validate passports to Cuba even though that restriction “render[ed] less than wholly free the flow of information concerning that country.” Id., at 16. The ban on travel was held constitutional, for “[t]he right to speak and publish does not carry with it the unrestrained right to gather information.” Id., at 17.22

Despite the fact that news gathering may be hampered, the press is regularly excluded from grand jury proceedings, our own conferences, the meetings of other official bodies gathered in executive session, and the meetings of private organizations. Newsmen have no constitutional right of access to the scenes of crime or *685disaster when the general public is excluded, and they may be prohibited from attending or publishing information about trials if such restrictions are necessary to assure a defendant a fair trial before an impartial tribunal. In Sheppard v. Maxwell, 384 U. S. 333 (1966), for example, the Court reversed a state court conviction where the trial court failed to adopt “stricter rules governing the use of the courtroom by newsmen, as Sheppard’s counsel requested,” neglected to insulate witnesses from the press, and made no “effort to control the release of leads, information, and gossip to the press by police officers, witnesses, and the counsel for both sides.” Id., at 358, 359. “[T]he trial court might well have proscribed extrajudicial statements by any lawyer, party, witness, or court official which divulged prejudicial matters.” Id., at 361. See also Estes v. Texas, 381 U. S. 532, 539-540 (1965); Rideau v. Louisiana, 373 U. S. 723, 726 (1963).

It is thus not surprising that the great weight of authority is that newsmen are not exempt from the normal duty of appearing before a grand jury and answering questions relevant to a criminal investigation. At common law, courts consistently refused to recognize the existence of any privilege authorizing a newsman to refuse to reveal confidential information to a grand jury. See, e. g., Ex parte Lawrence, 116 Cal. 298, 48 P. 124 (1897); Plunkett v. Hamilton, 136 Ga. 72, 70 S. E. 781 (1911); Clein v. State, 52 So. 2d 117 (Fla. 1950); In re Grunow, 84 N. J. L. 235, 85 A. 1011 (1913); People ex rel. Mooney v. Sheriff, 269 N. Y. 291, 199 N. E. 415 (1936); Joslyn v. People, 67 Colo. 297, 184 P. 375 (1919); Adams v. Associated Press, 46 F. R. D. 439 (SD Tex. 1969); Brewster v. Boston Herald-Traveler Corp., 20 F. R. D. 416 (Mass. 1957). See generally Annot., 7 A. L. R. 3d 591 (1966). In 1958, a news gatherer asserted for the first time that the First Amend*686ment exempted confidential information from public disclosure pursuant to a subpoena issued in a civil suit, Garland v. Torre, 259 F. 2d 545 (CA2), cert. denied, 358 U. S. 910 (1958), but the claim was denied, and this argument has been almost uniformly rejected since then, although there are occasional dicta that, in circumstances not presented here, a newsman might be excused. In re Goodfader, 45 Haw. 317, 367 P. 2d 472 (1961); In re Taylor, 412 Pa. 32, 193 A. 2d 181 (1963); State v. Buchanan, 250 Ore. 244, 436 P. 2d 729, cert. denied, 392 U. S. 905 (1968); Murphy v. Colorado (No. 19604, Sup. Ct. Colo.), cert. denied, 365 U. S. 843 (1961) (unreported, discussed in In re Goodfader, supra, at 366, 367 P. 2d, at 498 (Mizuha, J., dissenting)). These courts have applied the presumption against the existence of an asserted testimonial privilege, United States v. Bryan, 339 U. S. 323, 331 (1950), and have concluded that the First Amendment interest asserted by the newsman was outweighed by the general obligation of a citizen to appear before a grand jury or at trial, pursuant to a subpoena, and give what information he possesses. The opinions of the state courts in Branzburg and Pappas are typical of the prevailing view, although a few recent cases, such as Caldwell, have recognized and given effect to some form of constitutional newsman’s privilege. See State v. Knops, 49 Wis. 2d 647, 183 N. W. 2d 93 (1971) (dictum); Alioto v. Cowles Communications, Inc., C. A. No. 52150 (ND Cal. 1969); In re Grand Jury Witnesses, 322 F. Supp. 573 (ND Cal. 1970); People v. Dohrn, Crim. No. 69-3808 (Cook County, Ill., Cir. Ct. 1970).

The prevailing constitutional view of the newsman’s privilege is very much rooted in the ancient role of the grand jury that has the dual function of determining if there is probable cause to believe that a crime has been committed and of protecting citizens against un*687founded criminal prosecutions.23 Grand jury proceedings are constitutionally mandated for the institution of federal criminal prosecutions for capital or other serious crimes, and “its constitutional prerogatives are rooted in long centuries of Anglo-American history.” Hannah v. Larche, 363 U. S. 420, 489-490 (1960) (Frankfurter, J., concurring in result). The Fifth Amendment provides that “[n]o person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury.” 24 The adoption of the grand jury “in our Constitution as the sole method for preferring charges in serious criminal cases shows the high place it held as an instrument of justice.” Costello v. United States, 350 U. S. 359, 362 (1956). Although state systems of criminal procedure differ greatly among themselves, the grand jury is similarly guaranteed by many state constitutions and plays an important role in fair and effective law enforcement in the overwhelm*688ing majority of the States.25 Because its task is to inquire into the existence of possible criminal conduct and to return only well-founded indictments, its investigative powers are necessarily broad. “It is a grand inquest, a body with powers of investigation and inquisition, the scope of whose inquiries is not to be limited narrowly by questions of propriety or forecasts of the probable result of the investigation, or by doubts whether any particular individual will be found properly subject to an accusation of crime.” Blair v. United States, 250 U. S. 273, 282 (1919). Hence, the grand jury’s authority to subpoena witnesses is not only historic, id., at 279-281, but essential to its task. Although the powers of the grand jury are not unlimited and are subject to the supervision of a judge, the longstanding principle that “the public . . . has a right to every man’s evidence,” except for those persons protected by a constitutional, common-law, or statutory privilege, United States v. Bryan, 339 U. S., at 331; Blackmer v. United States, 284 U. S. 421, 438 (1932) ; 8 J. Wigmore, Evidence §2192 (McNaughton rev. 1961), is particularly applicable to grand jury proceedings.26

*689A number of States have provided newsmen a statutory privilege of varying breadth,27 but the majority have not done so, and none has been provided by federal statute.28 Until now the only testimonial privilege for unofficial witnesses that is rooted in the Federal Con*690stitution is the Fifth Amendment privilege against compelled self-incrimination. We are asked to create another by interpreting the First Amendment to grant newsmen a testimonial privilege that other citizens do not enjoy. This we decline to do.29 Fair and effective law enforcement aimed at providing security for the person and property of the individual is a fundamental function of government, and the grand jury plays an important, constitutionally mandated role in this process. On the records now before us, we perceive no basis for holding that the public interest in law enforcement and in ensuring effective grand jury proceedings is insufficient to override the consequential, but uncertain, burden on news gathering that is said to result from insisting that reporters, like other citizens, respond to relevant *691questions put to them in the course of a valid grand jury-investigation or criminal trial.

This conclusion itself involves no restraint on what newspapers may publish or on the type or quality of information reporters may seek to acquire, nor does it threaten the vast bulk of confidential relationships between reporters and their sources. Grand juries address themselves to the issues of whether crimes have been committed and who committed them. Only where news sources themselves are implicated) in crime or possess information relevant to the grand jury’s task need they or the reporter be concerned about grand jury subpoenas. Nothing before us indicates that a large number or percentage of all confidential news sources falls into either category and would in any way be deterred by our holding that the Constitution does not, as it never has, exempt the newsman from performing the citizen’s normal duty of appearing and furnishing information relevant to the grand jury’s task.

The preference for anonymity of those confidential informants involved in actual criminal conduct is presumably a product of their desire to escape criminal prosecution, and this preference, while understandable, is hardly deserving of constitutional protection. It would be frivolous to assert — and no one does in these cases — that the First Amendment, in the interest of securing news or otherwise, confers a license on either the reporter or his news sources to violate valid criminal laws. Although stealing documents or private wiretapping could provide newsworthy information, neither reporter nor source is immune from conviction for such conduct, whatever the impact on the flow of news. Neither is immune, on First Amendment grounds, from testifying against the other, before the grand jury or at a criminal trial. The Amendment does not reach so far as to override the interest of the public in en*692suring that neither reporter nor source is invading the rights of other citizens through reprehensible conduct forbidden to all other persons. To assert the contrary-proposition

“is to answer it, since it involves in its very statement the contention that the freedom of the press is the freedom to do wrong with impunity and implies the right to frustrate and defeat the discharge of those governmental duties upon the performance of which the freedom of all, including that of the press, depends. ... It suffices to say that, however complete is the right of the press to state public things and discuss them, that right, as every other right enjoyed in human society, is subject to the restraints which separate right from wrong-doing.” Toledo Newspaper Co. v. United States, 247 U. S. 402, 419-420 (1918).30

Thus, we cannot seriously entertain the notion that the First Amendment protects a newsman’s agreement to conceal the criminal conduct of his source, or evidence thereof, on the theory that it is better to write about crime than to do something about it. Insofar as any reporter in these cases undertook not to reveal or testify about the crime he witnessed, his claim of privilege under the First Amendment presents no substantial question. The crimes of news sources are no less reprehensible and threatening to the public interest when witnessed by a reporter than when they are not.

*693There remain those situations where a source is not engaged in criminal conduct but has information suggesting illegal conduct by others. Newsmen frequently receive information from such sources pursuant to a tacit or express agreement to withhold the source’s name and suppress any information that the source wishes not published. Such informants presumably desire anonymity in order to avoid being entangled as a witness in a criminal trial or grand jury investigation. They may fear that disclosure will threaten their job security or personal safety or that it will simply result in dishonor or embarrassment.

The argument that the flow of news will be diminished by compelling reporters to aid the grand jury in a criminal investigation is not irrational, nor are the records before us silent on the matter. But we remain unclear how often and to what extent informers are actually deterred from furnishing information when newsmen are forced to testify before a grand jury. The available data indicate that some newsmen rely a great deal on confidential sources and that some informants are particularly sensitive to the threat of exposure and may be silenced if it is held by this Court that, ordinarily, newsmen must testify pursuant to subpoenas,31 but the evidence fails to demonstrate that there would be a significant constriction of the flow of news to the public if this Court reaffirms the prior common-law and constitutional rule regarding the testimonial obligations of newsmen. Estimates of the inhibiting effect of such subpoenas on the willingness of informants to make disclosures to newsmen are widely divergent and *694to a great extent speculative.32 It would be difficult to canvass the views of the informants themselves; surveys of reporters on this topic are chiefly opinions of predicted informant behavior and must be viewed in the light of the professional self-interest of the interviewees.33 Reliance by the press on confidential informants does not mean that all such sources will in fact dry up because of the later possible appearance of the newsman before a grand jury. The reporter may never be called and if he objects to testifying, the prosecution may not insist. Also, the relationship of many informants to the press is a symbiotic one which is unlikely to be greatly inhibited by the threat of subpoena: quite often, such informants are members of a minority political or cultural group that *695relies heavily on the media to propagate its views, publicize its aims, and magnify its exposure to the public. Moreover, grand juries characteristically conduct secret proceedings, and law enforcement officers are themselves experienced in dealing with informers, and have their own methods for protecting them without interference with the effective administration of justice. There is little before us indicating that informants whose interest in avoiding exposure is that it may threaten job security, personal safety, or peace of mind, would in fact be in a worse position, or would think they would be, if they risked placing their trust in public officials as well as reporters. We doubt if the informer who prefers anonymity but is sincerely interested in furnishing evidence of crime will always or very often be deterred by the prospect of dealing with those public authorities characteristically charged with the duty to protect the public interest as well as his.

Accepting the fact, however, that an undetermined number of informants not themselves implicated in crime will nevertheless, for whatever reason, refuse to talk to newsmen if they fear identification by a reporter in an official investigation, we cannot accept the argument that the public interest in possible future news about crime from undisclosed, unverified sources must take precedence over the public interest in pursuing and prosecuting those crimes reported to the press by informants and in thus deterring the commission of such crimes in the future.

We note first that the privilege claimed is that of the reporter, not the informant, and that if the authorities independently identify the informant, neither his own reluctance to testify nor the objection of the newsman would shield him from grand jury inquiry, whatever the impact on the flow of news or on his future usefulness as a secret source of information. More impor*696tant, it is obvious that agreements to conceal information relevant to commission of crime have very little to recommend them from the standpoint of public policy. Historically, the common law recognized a duty to raise the “hue and cry” and report felonies to the authorities.34 Misprision of a felony — that is, the concealment of a felony “which a man knows, but never assented to . . . [so as to become] either principal or accessory,” 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *121, was often said to be a common-law crime.35 The first Congress passed a statute, 1 Stat. 113, § 6, as amended, 35 Stat. 1114, § 146, 62 Stat. 684, which is still in effect, defining a federal crime of misprision:

“Whoever, having knowledge of the actual commission of a felony cognizable by a court of the United States, conceals and does not as soon as possible make known the same to some judge or other person in civil or military authority under the United States, shall be [guilty of misprision].” 18 U. S. C. § 4.36

*697It is apparent from this statute, as well as from our history and that of England, that concealment of crime and agreements to do so are not looked upon with favor. Such conduct deserves no encomium, and we decline now to afford it First Amendment protection by denigrating the duty of a citizen, whether reporter or informer, to respond to grand jury subpoena and answer relevant questions put to him.

Of course, the press has the right to abide by its agreement not to publish all the information it has, but the right to withhold news is not equivalent to a First Amendment exemption from the ordinary duty of all other citizens to furnish relevant information to a grand jury performing an important public function. Private restraints on the flow of information are not so favored by the First Amendment that they override all other public interests. As Mr. Justice Black declared in another context, “[fjreedom of the press from governmental interference under the First Amendment does not sanction repression of that freedom by private interests.” Associated Press v. United States, 326 U. S., at 20.

Neither are we now convinced that a virtually impenetrable constitutional shield, beyond legislative or judicial control, should be forged to protect a private system of informers operated by the press to report on criminal conduct, a system that would be unaccountable to the public, would pose a threat to the citizen’s justifiable expectations of privacy, and would equally protect well-intentioned informants and those who for pay or otherwise betray their trust to their employer or associates. The public through its elected and appointed *698law enforcement officers regularly utilizes informers, and in proper circumstances may assert a privilege against disclosing the identity of these informers. But

“[t]he purpose of the privilege is the furtherance and protection of the public interest in effective law enforcement. The privilege recognizes the obligation of citizens to communicate their knowledge of the commission of crimes to law-enforcement officials and, by preserving their anonymity, encourages them to perform that obligation.” Roviaro v. United States, 353 U. S. 53, 59 (1957).

Such informers enjoy no constitutional protection. Their testimony is available to the public when desired by grand juries or at criminal trials; their identity cannot be concealed from the defendant when it is critical to his case. Id., at 60-61, 62; McCray v. Illinois, 386 U. S. 300, 310 (1967); Smith v. Illinois, 390 U. S. 129, 131 (1968); Alford v. United States, 282 U. S. 687, 693 (1931). Clearly, this system is not impervious to control by the judiciary and the decision whether to unmask an informer or to continue to profit by his anonymity is in public, not private, hands. We think that it should remain there and that public authorities should retain the options of either insisting on the informer’s testimony relevant to the prosecution of crime or of seeking the benefit of further information that his exposure might prevent.

We are admonished that refusal to provide a First Amendment reporter’s privilege will undermine the freedom of the press to collect and disseminate news. But this is not the lesson history teaches us. As noted previously, the common law recognized no such privilege, and the constitutional argument was not even asserted until 1958. From the beginning of our country the press has operated without constitutional pro*699tection for press informants, and the press has flourished. The existing constitutional rules have not been a serious obstacle to either the development or retention of confidential news sources by the press.37

It is said that currently press subpoenas have multiplied,38 that mutual distrust and tension between press and officialdom have increased, that reporting styles have changed, and that there is now more need for confidential sources, particularly where the press seeks news about minority cultural and political groups or dissident organizations suspicious of the law and public officials. These developments, even if true, are treacherous grounds for a far-reaching interpretation of the First Amendment fastening a nationwide rule on courts, grand juries, and prosecuting officials everywhere. The obligation to testify in response to grand jury subpoenas will not threaten these sources not involved with criminal conduct and without information relevant to grand jury investigations, and we cannot hold that the Constitution places the sources in these two categories either above the law or beyond its reach.

The argument for such a constitutional privilege rests heavily on those cases holding that the infringement of protected First Amendment rights must be no broader than necessary to achieve a permissible governmental purpose, see cases cited at n. 19, supra. We do not deal, however, with a governmental institution that has abused *700its proper function, as a legislative committee does when it “expose [s] for the sake of exposure.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U. S. 178, 200 (1957). Nothing in the record indicates that these grand juries were “prob[ing] at will and without relation to existing need.” DeGregory v. Attorney General of New Hampshire, 383 U. S. 825, 829 (1966). Nor did the grand juries attempt to invade protected First Amendment rights by forcing wholesale disclosure of names and organizational affiliations for a purpose that was not germane to the determination of whether crime has been committed, cf. NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U. S. 449 (1958); NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415 (1963); Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U. S. 516 (1960), and the characteristic secrecy of grand jury proceedings is a further protection against the undue invasion of such rights. See Fed. Rule Crim. Proc. 6 (e). The investigative power of the grand jury is necessarily broad if its public responsibility is to be adequately discharged. Costello v. United States, 350 U. S., at 364.

The requirements of those cases, see n. 18, supra, which hold that a State’s interest must be “compelling” or “paramount” to justify even an indirect burden on First Amendment rights, are also met here. As we have indicated, the investigation of crime by the grand jury implements a fundamental governmental role of securing the safety of the person and property of the citizen, and it appears to us that calling reporters to give testimony in the manner and for the reasons that other citizens are called “bears a reasonable relationship to the achievement of the governmental purpose asserted as its justification.” Bates v. Little Rock, supra, at 525. If the test is. that the government “convincingly show a substantial relation between the information sought and a subject of overriding and compelling state interest,” Gibson v. Florida Legislative Investigation Committee, *701372 U. S. 539, 546 (1963), it is quite apparent (1) that the State has the necessary interest in extirpating the traffic in illegal drugs, in forestalling assassination attempts on the President, and in preventing the community from being disrupted by violent disorders endangering both persons and property; and (2) that, based on the stories Branzburg and Caldwell wrote and Pappas’ admitted conduct, the grand jury called these reporters as they would others — because it was likely that they could supply information to help the government determine whether illegal conduct had occurred and, if it had, whether there was sufficient evidence to return an indictment.

Similar considerations dispose of the reporters’ claims that preliminary to requiring their grand jury appearance, the State must show that a crime has been committed and that they possess relevant information not available from other sources, for only the grand jury itself can make this determination. The role of the grand jury as an important instrument of effective law enforcement necessarily includes an investigatory function with respect to determining whether a crime has been committed and who committed it. To this end it must call witnesses, in the manner best suited to perform its task. “When the grand jury is performing its investigatory function into a general problem area . . . society’s interest is best served by a thorough and extensive investigation.” Wood v. Georgia, 370 U. S. 375, 392 (1962). A grand jury investigation “is not fully carried out until every available clue has been run down and all witnesses examined in every proper way to find if a crime has been committed.” United States v. Stone, 429 F. 2d 138, 140 (CA2 1970). Such an investigation may be triggered by tips, rumors, evidence proffered by the prosecutor, or the personal knowledge of the grand jurors. Costello v. United States, 350 U. S., at 362. It is *702only after the grand jury has examined the evidence that a determination of whether the proceeding will result in an indictment can be made.

“It is impossible to conceive that in such cases the examination of witnesses must be stopped until a basis is laid by an indictment formally preferred, when the very object of the examination is to ascertain who shall be indicted.” Hale v. Henkel, 201 U. S. 43, 65 (1906).

See also Hendricks v. United States, 223 U. S. 178 (1912) ; Blair v. United States, 250 U. S., at 282-283. We see no reason to hold that these reporters, any more than other citizens, should be excused from furnishing information that may help the grand jury in arriving at its initial determinations.

The privilege claimed here is conditional, not absolute; given the suggested preliminary showings and compelling need, the reporter would be required to testify. Presumably, such a rule would reduce the instances in which reporters could be required to appear, but predicting in advance when and in what circumstances they could be compelled to do so would be difficult. Such a rule would also have implications for the issuance of compulsory process to reporters at civil and criminal trials and at legislative hearings. If newsmen’s confidential sources are as sensitive as they are claimed to be, the prospect of being unmasked whenever a judge determines the situation justifies it is hardly a satisfactory solution to the problem.39 For them, it would appear that only an absolute privilege would suffice.

*703We are unwilling to embark the judiciary on a long and difficult journey to such an uncertain destination. The administration of a constitutional newsman’s priv*704ilege would present practical and conceptual difficulties of a high order. Sooner or later, it would be necessary to define those categories of newsmen who qualified for the privilege, a questionable procedure in light of the traditional doctrine that liberty of the press is the right of the lonely pamphleteer who uses carbon paper or a mimeograph just as much as of the large metropolitan publisher who utilizes the latest photocomposition methods. Cf. In re Grand Jury Witnesses, 322 F. Supp. 573, 574 (ND Cal. 1970). Freedom of the press is a “fundamental personal right” which “is not confined to newspapers and periodicals. It necessarily embraces pamphlets and leaflets. . . . The press in its historic connotation comprehends every sort of publication which affords a vehicle of information and opinion.” Lovell v. Griffin, 303 U. S. 444, 450, 452 (1938). See also Mills *705v. Alabama, 384 U. S. 214, 219 (1966); Murdock v. Pennsylvania, 319 U. S. 105, 111 (1943). The informative function asserted by representatives of the organized press in the present cases is also performed by lecturers, political pollsters, novelists, academic researchers, and dramatists. Almost any author may quite accurately assert that he is contributing to the flow of information to the public, that he relies on confidential sources of information, and that these sources will be silenced if he is forced to make disclosures before a grand jury.40

In each instance where a reporter is subpoenaed to testify, the courts would also be embroiled in preliminary factual and legal determinations with respect to whether the proper predicate had been laid for the reporter’s appearance: Is there probable cause to believe a crime has been committed? Is it likely that the reporter has useful information gained in confidence? Could the grand jury obtain the information elsewhere? Is the official interest sufficient to outweigh the claimed privilege?

Thus, in the end, by considering whether enforcement of a particular law served a “compelling” governmental interest, the courts would be inextricably involved in *706distinguishing between the value of enforcing different criminal laws. By requiring testimony from a reporter in investigations involving some crimes but not in others, they would be making a value judgment that a legislature had declined to make, since in each case the criminal law involved would represent a considered legislative judgment, not constitutionally suspect, of what conduct is liable to criminal prosecution. The task of judges, like other officials outside the legislative branch, is not to make the law but to uphold it in accordance with their oaths.

At the federal level, Congress has freedom to determine whether a statutory newsman’s privilege is necessary and desirable and to fashion standards and rules as narrow or broad as deemed necessary to deal with the evil discerned and, equally important, to refashion those rules as experience from time to time may dictate. There is also merit in leaving state legislatures free, within First Amendment limits, to fashion their own standards in light of the conditions and problems with respect to the relations between law enforcement officials and press in their own areas. It goes without saying, of course, that we are powerless to bar state courts from responding in their own way and construing their own constitutions so as to recognize a newsman’s privilege, either qualified or absolute.

In addition, there is much force in the pragmatic view that the press has at its disposal powerful mechanisms of communication and is far from helpless to protect itself from harassment or substantial harm. Furthermore, if what the newsmen urged in these cases is true — that law enforcement cannot hope to gain and may suffer from subpoenaing newsmen before grand juries— prosecutors will be loath to risk so much for so little. Thus, at the federal level the Attorney General has already fashioned a set of rules for federal officials in con*707nection with subpoenaing members of the press to testify before grand juries or at criminal trials.41 These rules are a major step in the direction the reporters herein desire to move. They may prove wholly sufficient to resolve the bulk of disagreements and controversies between press and federal officials.

Finally, as we have earlier indicated, news gathering is not without its First Amendment protections, and grand jury investigations if instituted or conducted other than in good faith, would pose wholly different issues for resolution under the First Amendment.42 Official harassment of the press undertaken not for purposes of law enforcement but to disrupt a reporter’s relation*708ship with his news sources would have no justification. Grand juries are subject to judicial control and subpoenas to motions to quash. We do not expect courts will forget that grand juries must operate within the limits of the First Amendment as well as the Fifth.

Ill

We turn, therefore, to the disposition of the cases before us. From what we have said, it necessarily follows that the decision in United States v. Caldwell, No. 70-57, must be reversed. If there is no First Amendment privilege to refuse to answer the relevant and material questions asked during a good-faith grand jury investigation, then it is a fortiori true that there is no privilege to refuse to appear before such a grand jury until the Government demonstrates some “compelling need” for a newsman’s testimony. Other issues were urged upon us, but since they were not passed upon by the Court of Appeals, we decline to address them in the first instance.

The decisions in No. 70-85, Branzburg v. Hayes and Branzburg v. Meigs, must be affirmed. Here, petitioner refused to answer questions that directly related to criminal conduct that he had observed and written about. The Kentucky Court of Appeals noted that marihuana is defined as a narcotic drug by statute, Ky. Rev. Stat. § 218.010 (14) (1962), and that unlicensed possession or compounding of it is a felony punishable by both fine and imprisonment. Ky. Rev. Stat. §218.210 (1962). It held that petitioner “saw the commission of the statutory felonies of unlawful possession of marijuana and the unlawful conversion of it into hashish,” in Branzburg v. Pound, 461 S. W. 2d, at 346. Petitioner may be presumed to have observed similar violations of the state narcotics laws during the research he did for the story that forms the basis of the subpoena in Branzburg v. Meigs. In both cases, if what petitioner wrote was true, *709he had direct information to provide the grand jury-concerning the commission of serious crimes.

The only question presented at the present time in In re Pappas, No. 70-94, is whether petitioner Pappas must appear before the grand jury to testify pursuant to subpoena. The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court characterized the record in this case as “meager,” and it is not clear what petitioner will be asked by the grand jury. It is not even clear that he will be asked to divulge information received in confidence. We affirm the decision of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court and hold that petitioner must appear before the grand jury to answer the questions put to him, subject, of course, to the supervision of the presiding judge as to “the propriety, purposes, and scope of the grand jury inquiry and the pertinence of the probable testimony.” 358 Mass., at 614, 266 N. E. 2d, at 303-304.

So ordered.

Mr. Justice Powell,

concurring.

I add this brief statement to emphasize what seems to me to be the limited nature of the Court's holding. The Court does not hold that newsmen, subpoenaed to testify before a grand jury, are without constitutional rights with respect to the gathering of news or in safeguarding their sources. Certainly, we do not hold, as suggested in Mr. Justice Stewart's dissenting opinion, that state and federal authorities are free to “annex” the news media as “an investigative arm of government.” The solicitude repeatedly shown by this Court for First Amendment freedoms should be sufficient assurance against any such effort, even if one seriously believed that the media — properly free and untrammeled in the fullest sense of these terms — were not able to protect themselves.

As indicated in the concluding portion of the opinion, the Court states that no harassment of newsmen will *710be tolerated. If a newsman believes that the grand jury-investigation is not being conducted in good faith he is not without remedy. Indeed, if the newsman is called upon to give information bearing only a remote and tenuous relationship to the subject of the investigation, or if he has some other reason to believe that his testimony implicates confidential source relationships without a legitimate need of law enforcement, he will have access to the court on a motion to quash and an appropriate protective order may be entered. The asserted claim to privilege should be judged on its facts by the striking of a proper balance between freedom of the press and the obligation of all citizens to give relevant testimony with respect to criminal conduct. The balance of these vital constitutional and societal interests on a case-by-case basis accords with the tried and traditional way of adjudicating such questions.*

In short, the courts will be available to newsmen under circumstances where legitimate First Amendment interests require protection.

*711Mr. Justice Douglas,

dissenting in No. 70-57, United States v. Caldwell.

Caldwell, a black, is a reporter for the New York Times and was assigned to San Francisco with the hope that he could report on the activities and attitudes of the Black Panther Party. Caldwell in time gained the complete confidence of its members and wrote in-depth articles about them.

He was subpoenaed to appear and testify before a federal grand jury and to bring with him notes and tapes covering interviews with its members. A hearing on a motion to quash was held. The District Court ruled that while Caldwell had to appear before the grand jury, he did not have to reveal confidential communications unless the court was satisfied that there was a “compelling and overriding national interest.” See 311 F. Supp. 358, 362. Caldwell filed a notice of appeal and the Court of Appeals dismissed the appeal without opinion.

Shortly thereafter a new grand jury was impaneled and it issued a new subpoena for Caldwell to testify. On a motion to quash, the District Court issued an order substantially identical to its earlier one.

Caldwell refused to appear and was held in contempt. On appeal, the Court of Appeals vacated the judgment of contempt. It said that the revealing of confidential sources of information jeopardized a First Amendment freedom and that Caldwell did not have to appear before the grand jury absent a showing that there was a “compelling and overriding national interest” in pursuing such an interrogation.

The District Court had found that Caldwell’s knowledge of the activities of the Black Panthers “derived in substantial part” from information obtained “within the scope of a relationship of trust and confidence.” Id., at 361. It also found that confidential relationships of this sort are commonly developed and maintained by *712professional journalists, and are indispensable to their work of gathering, analyzing, and publishing the news.

The District Court further had found that compelled disclosure of information received by a journalist within the scope of such confidential relationships jeopardized those relationships and thereby impaired the journalist’s ability to gather, analyze, and publish the news.

The District Court, finally, had found that, without a protective order delimiting the scope of interrogation of Earl Caldwell by the grand jury, his appearance and examination before the jury would severely impair and damage his confidential relationships with members of the Black Panther Party and other militants, and thereby severely impair and damage his ability to gather, analyze, and publish news concerning them; and that it would also damage and impair the abilities of all reporters to gather, analyze, and publish news concerning them.

The Court of Appeals agreed with the findings of the District Court but held that Caldwell did not have to appear at all before the grand jury absent a “compelling need” shown by the Government. 434 P. 2d 1081.

It is my view that there is no “compelling need” that can be shown which qualifies the reporter’s immunity from appearing or testifying before a grand jury, unless the reporter himself is implicated in a crime. His immunity in my view is therefore quite complete, for, absent his involvement in a crime, the First Amendment protects him against an appearance before a grand jury and if he is involved in a crime, the Fifth Amendment stands as a barrier. Since in my view there is no area of inquiry not protected by a privilege, the reporter need not appear for the futile purpose of invoking one to each question. And, since in my view a newsman has an absolute right not to appear before a grand jury, it follows for me that a journalist who voluntarily appears before that body may invoke his First Amendment privilege to specific ques*713tions. The basic issue is the extent to which the First Amendment (which is applicable to investigating committees, Watkins v. United States, 354 U. S. 178; NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U. S. 449, 463; Gibson v. Florida Legislative Investigation Committee, 372 U. S. 539; Baird v. State Bar of Arizona, 401 U. S. 1, 6-7; In re Stolar, 401 U. S. 23) must yield to the Government’s asserted need to know a reporter’s unprinted information.

The starting point for decision pretty well marks the range within which the end result lies. The New York Times, whose reporting functions are at issue here, takes the amazing position that First Amendment rights are to be balanced against other needs or conveniences of government.1 My belief is that all of the “balancing” was done by those who wrote the Bill of Rights. By casting the First Amendment in absolute terms, they repudiated the timid, watered-down, emasculated versions of the First Amendment which both the Government and the New York Times advance in the case.

My view is close to that of the late Alexander Meiklejohn: 2

“For the understanding of these principles it is essential to keep clear the crucial difference between ‘the rights’ of the governed and ‘the powers’ of the governors. And at this point, the title ‘Bill of Rights’ is lamentably inaccurate as a designation *714of the first ten amendments. They are not a ‘Bill of Rights’ but a ‘Bill of Powers and Rights.’ The Second through the Ninth Amendments limit the powers of the subordinate agencies in order that due regard shall be paid to the private ‘rights of the governed.’ The First and Tenth Amendments protect the governing ‘powers’ of the people from abridgment by the agencies which are established as their servants. In the field of our ‘rights,’ each one of us can claim ‘due process of law.’ In the field of our governing ‘powers,’ the notion of ‘due process’ is irrelevant.”

He also believed that “[s] elf-government can exist only insofar as the voters acquire the intelligence, integrity, sensitivity, and generous devotion to the general welfare that, in theory, casting a ballot is assumed to express,” 3 and that “[p]ublic discussions of public issues, together with the spreading of information and opinion bearing on those issues, must have a freedom unabridged by our agents. Though they govern us, we, in a deeper sense, govern them. Over our governing, they have no power. Over their governing we have sovereign power.” 4

Two principles which follow from this understanding of the First Amendment are at stake here. One is that the people, the ultimate governors, must have absolute freedom of, and therefore privacy of, their individual opinions and beliefs regardless of how suspect or strange they may appear to others. Ancillary to that principle is the conclusion that an individual must also have absolute privacy over whatever information he may generate in the course of testing his opinions and beliefs. In this regard, Caldwell’s status as a reporter is less relevant than is his status as a student who affirmatively pursued empirical research to enlarge his own intellectual view*715point. The second principle is that effective self-government cannot succeed unless the people are immersed in a steady, robust, unimpeded, and uncensored flow of opinion and reporting which are continuously subjected to critique, rebuttal, and re-examination. In this respect, Caldwell’s status as a news gatherer and an integral part of that process becomes critical.

I

Government has many interests that compete with the First Amendment. Congressional investigations determine how existing laws actually operate or whether new laws are needed. While congressional committees have broad powers, they are subject to the restraints of the First Amendment. As we said in Watkins v. United States, 354 U. S., at 197: “Clearly, an investigation is subject to the command that the Congress shall make no law abridging freedom of speech or press or assembly. While it is true that there is no statute to be reviewed, and that an investigation is not a law, nevertheless an investigation is part of lawmaking. It is justified solely as an adjunct to the legislative process. The First Amendment may be invoked against infringement of the protected freedoms by law or by lawmaking.”

Hence, matters of belief, ideology, religious practices, social philosophy, and the like are beyond the pale and of no rightful concern of government, unless the belief or the speech, or other expression has been translated into action. West Virginia State Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 642; Baird v. State Bar of Arizona, 401 U. S., at 6-7; In re Stolar, 401 U. S. 23.

Also at stake here is Caldwell’s privacy of association. We have held that “[ijnviolability of privacy in group association may in many circumstances be indispensable to preservation of freedom of association, particularly where a group espouses dissident beliefs.” NAACP v. *716Alabama, 357 U. S., at 462; NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415.

As I said in Gibson v. Florida Legislative Investigation Committee, 372 U. S., at 565: “the associational rights protected by the First Amendment . . . cover the entire spectrum in political ideology as well as in art, in journalism, in teaching, and in religion. . . . [Government is . . . precluded from probing the intimacies of spiritual and intellectual relationships in the myriad of such societies and groups that exist in this country, regardless of the legislative purpose sought to be served. ... If that is not true, I see no barrier to investigation of newspapers, churches, political parties, clubs, societies, unions, and any other association for their political, economic, social, philosophical, or religious views.” (Concurring opinion.) (Emphasis added.)

The Court has not always been consistent in its protection of these First Amendment rights and has sometimes allowed a government interest to override the absolutes of the First Amendment. For example, under the banner of the “clear and present danger” test,5 and later under the influence of the “balancing” formula,6 the *717Court has permitted men to be penalized not for any harmful conduct but solely for holding unpopular beliefs.

In recent years we have said over and over again that where First Amendment rights are concerned any regulation “narrowly drawn,”7 must be “compelling” and not *718merely “rational” as is the case where other activities are concerned.8 But the “compelling” interest in regulation neither includes paring down or diluting the right, nor *719embraces penalizing one solely for his intellectual view- • point; it concerns the State’s interest, for example, in regulating the time and place or perhaps manner of exercising First Amendment rights. Thus, one has an undoubted right to read and proclaim the First Amendment in the classroom or in a park. But he would not have the right to blare it forth from a sound truck rolling through the village or city at 2 a. m. The distinction drawn in Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 303-304, should still stand: “[T]he Amendment embraces two concepts, — freedom to believe and freedom to act. The first is absolute but, in the nature of things, the second cannot be.” 9

Under these precedents there is no doubt that Caldwell could not be brought before the grand jury for the sole purpose of exposing his political beliefs. Yet today the Court effectively permits that result under the guise of allowing an attempt to elicit from him “factual information.” To be sure, the inquiry will be couched only in terms of extracting Caldwell’s recollection of what was said to him during the interviews, but the fact remains that his questions to the Panthers and therefore the respective answers were guided by Caldwell’s own preconceptions and views about the Black Panthers. His *720entire experience was shaped by his intellectual viewpoint. Unlike the random bystander, those who affirmatively set out to test a hypothesis, as here, have no tidy means of segregating subjective opinion from objective facts.

Sooner or later, any test which provides less than blanket protection to beliefs and associations will be twisted and relaxed so as to provide virtually no protection at all. As Justice Holmes noted in Abrams v. United States, 250 U. S. 616, 624, such was the fate of the “clear and present danger” test which he had coined in Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47. Eventually, that formula was so watered down that the danger had to be neither clear nor present but merely “not improbable.” Dennis v. United States, 341 U. S. 494, 510. See my concurring opinion in Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444, 450. A compelling-interest test may prove as pliable as did the clear-and-present-danger test. Perceptions of the worth of state objectives will change with the composition of the Court and with the intensity of the politics of the times. For example, in Uphaus v. Wyman, 360 U. S. 72, sustaining an attempt to compel a witness to divulge the names of participants in a summer political camp, Justice Brennan dissented on the ground that “it is patent that there is really no subordinating interest . .. . demonstrated on the part of the State.” Id., at 106. The majority, however, found that “the governmental interest in self-preservation is sufficiently compelling to subordinate the interest in associational privacy . . . .” Id., at 81. That is to enter the world of “make believe,” for New Hampshire, the State involved in Uphaus, was never in fear of being overthrown.

II

Today’s decision will impede the wide-open and robust dissemination of ideas and counterthought which *721a free press both fosters and protects and which is essential to the success of intelligent self-government. Forcing a reporter before a grand jury will have two retarding effects upon the ear and the pen of the press. Fear of exposure will cause dissidents to communicate less openly to trusted reporters. And, fear of accountability will cause editors and critics to write with more restrained pens.

I see no way of making mandatory the disclosure of a reporter’s confidential source of the information on which he bases his news story.

The press has a preferred position in our constitutional scheme, not to enable it to make money, not to set newsmen apart as a favored class, but to bring fulfillment to the public’s right to know. The right to know is crucial to the governing powers of the people, to paraphrase Alexander Meiklejohn. Knowledge is essential to informed decisions.

As Mr. Justice Black said in New York Times Co. v. United States, 403 U. S. 713, 717 (concurring opinion), “The press was to serve the governed, not the governors. . . . The press was protected so that it could bare the secrets of government and inform the people.”

Government has an interest in law and order; and history shows that the trend of rulers — the bureaucracy and the police — is to suppress the radical and his ideas and to arrest him rather than the hostile audience. See Feiner v. New York, 340 U. S. 315. Yet, as held in Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U. S. 1, 4, one “function of free speech under our system of government is to invite dispute.” We went on to say, “It may indeed best serve its high purpose when it induces a condition of unrest, creates dissatisfaction with conditions as they are, or even stirs people to anger. Speech is often provocative and challenging. It may strike at prejudices arid pre*722conceptions and have profound unsettling effects as it presses for acceptance of an idea.”

The people who govern are often far removed from the cabals that threaten the regime; the people are often remote from the sources of truth even though they live in the city where the forces that would undermine society operate. The function of the press is to explore and investigate events, inform the people what is going on, and to expose the harmful as well as the good influences at work. There is no higher function performed under our constitutional regime. Its performance means that the press is often engaged in projects that bring anxiety or even fear to the bureaucracies, departments, or officials of government. The whole weight of government is therefore often brought to bear against a paper or a reporter.

A reporter is no better than his source of information. Unless he has a privilege to withhold the identity of his source, he will be the victim of governmental intrigue or aggression. If he can be summoned to testify in secret before a grand jury, his sources will dry up and the attempted exposure, the effort to enlighten the public, will be ended. If what the Court sanctions today becomes settled law, then the reporter’s main function in American society will be to pass on to the public the press releases which the various departments of government issue.

It is no answer to reply that the risk that a newsman will divulge one’s secrets to the grand jury is no greater than the threat that he will in any event inform to the police. Even the most trustworthy reporter may not be able to withstand relentless badgering before a grand jury.10

*723The record in this case is replete with weighty affidavits from responsible newsmen, telling how important is the sanctity of their sources of information.11 When we deny newsmen that protection, we deprive the people of the information needed to run the affairs of the Nation in an intelligent way.

Madison said:

“A popular Government, without popular information, or the means of acquiring it, is but a Prologue to a Farce or a Tragedy; or, perhaps both. Knowledge will forever govern ignorance: And a people who mean to be their own Governors, must arm themselves with the power which knowledge gives.” (To W. T. Barry, Aug. 4, 1822.) 9 Writings of James Madison 103 (G. Hunt ed. 1910).

*724Today’s decision is more than a clog upon news, gathering. It is a signal to publishers and editors that they should exercise caution in how they use whatever information they can obtain. Without immunity they may be summoned to account for their criticism. Entrenched officers have been quick to crash their powers down upon unfriendly commentators.12 E. g., New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254; Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64; Pickering v. Board of Education, 391 U. S. 563; Gravel v. United States, ante, p. 606.

The intrusion of government into this domain is symptomatic of the disease of this society. As the years pass the power of government becomes more and more pervasive. It is a power to suffocate both people and causes. Those in power, whatever their politics, want only to per*725petuate it. Now that the fences of the law and the tradition that has protected the press are broken down, the people are the victims. The First Amendment, as I read it, was designed precisely to prevent that tragedy.

I would also reverse the judgments in No. 70-85, Branzburg v. Hayes, and No. 70-94, In re Pappas, for the reasons stated in the above dissent in No. 70-57, United States v. Caldwell.

Mr. Justice Stewart,

with whom Mr. Justice Brennan and Mr. Justice Marshall join, dissenting.

The Court’s crabbed view of the First Amendment reflects a disturbing insensitivity to the critical role of an independent press in our society. The question whether a reporter has a constitutional right to a confidential relationship with his source is of first impression here, but the principles that should guide our decision are as basic as any to be found in the Constitution. While Mr. Justice Powell’s enigmatic concurring opinion gives some hope of a mpre flexible view in the future, the Court in these cases holds that a newsman has no First Amendment right to protect his sources when called before a grand jury. The Court thus invites state and federal authorities to undermine the historic independence of the press by attempting to annex the journalistic profession as an investigative arm of government. Not only will this decision impair performance of the press’ constitutionally protected functions, but it will, I am convinced, in the long run harm rather than help the administration of justice.

I respectfully dissent.

I

The reporter’s constitutional right to a confidential relationship with his source stems from the broad societal interest in a full and free flow of information to the public. It is this basic concern that underlies the Con*726stitution’s protection of a free press, Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U. S. 233, 250; New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 269,1 because the guarantee is “not for the benefit of the press so much as for the benefit of all of us.” Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 389.2

Enlightened choice by an informed citizenry is the basic ideal upon which an open society is premised,3 and a free press' is thus indispensable to a free society. Not only does the press enhance personal self-fulfillment *727by providing the people with the widest possible range of fact and opinion, but it also is an incontestable precondition of self-government. The press “has been a mighty catalyst in awakening public interest in governmental affairs, exposing corruption among public officers and employees and generally informing the citizenry of public events and occurrences . . . Estes v. Texas, 381 U. S. 532, 539; Mills v. Alabama, 384 U. S. 214, 219; Grosjean, supra, at 250. As private and public aggregations of power burgeon in size and the pressures for conformity necessarily mount, there is obviously a continuing need for an independent press to disseminate a robust variety of information and opinion through reportage, investigation, and criticism, if we are to preserve our constitutional tradition of maximizing freedom of choice by encouraging diversity of expression.

A

In keeping with this tradition, we have held that the right to publish is central to the First Amendment and basic to the existence of constitutional democracy. Grosjean, supra, at 250; New York Times, supra, at 270.

A corollary of the right to publish must be the right to gather news. The full flow of information to the public protected by the free-press guarantee would be severely curtailed if no protection whatever were afforded to the process by which news is assembled and disseminated. We have, therefore, recognized that there is a right to publish without prior governmental approval, Near v. Minnesota, 283 U. S. 697; New York Times Co. v. United States, 403 U. S. 713, a right to distribute information, see, e. g., Lovell v. Griffin, 303 U. S. 444, 452; Marsh v. Alabama, 326 U. S. 501; Martin v. City of Struthers, 319 U. S. 141; Grosjean, supra, and a right to receive printed matter, Lamont v. Postmaster General, 381 U. S. 301.

*728No less important to the news dissemination process is the gathering of information. News must not be unnecessarily cut off at its source, for without freedom to acquire information the right to publish would be im-permissibly compromised. Accordingly, a right to gather news, of some dimensions, must exist. Zemel v. Rusk, 381 U. S. 1.4 Note, The Right of the Press to Gather Information, 71 Col. L. Rev. 838 (1971). As Madison wrote: “A popular Government, without popular information, or the means of acquiring it, is but a Prologue to a Farce or a Tragedy; or, perhaps both.” 9 Writings of James Madison 103 (G. Hunt ed. 1910).

B

The right to gather news implies, in turn, a right to a confidential relationship between a reporter and his source. This proposition follows as a matter of simple logic once three factual predicates are recognized: (1) newsmen require informants to gather news; (2) confidentiality — the promise or understanding that names or certain aspects of communications will be kept off the record — is essential to the creation and maintenance of a news-gathering relationship with informants; and (3) an unbridled subpoena power — the absence of a constitutional right protecting, in any way, a confidential relationship from compulsory process — will either deter sources from divulging information or deter reporters from gathering and publishing information.

*729It is obvious that informants are necessary to the news-gathering process as we know it today. If it is to perform its constitutional mission, the press must do far more than merely print public statements or publish prepared handouts. Familiarity with the people and circumstances involved in the myriad background activities that result in the final product called "news” is vital to complete and responsible journalism, unless the press is to be a captive mouthpiece of "newsmakers.” 5

It is equally obvious that the promise of confidentiality may be a necessary prerequisite to a productive relationship between a newsman and his informants. An officeholder may fear his superior; a member of the bureaucracy, his associates; a dissident, the scorn of majority opinion. All may have information valuable to the public discourse, yet each may be willing to relate that information only in confidence to a reporter whom he trusts, either because of excessive caution or because of a reasonable fear of reprisals or censure for unorthodox *730views. The First Amendment concern must not be with the motives of any particular news source, but rather with the conditions in which informants of all shades of the spectrum may make information available through the press to the public. Cf. Talley v. California, 362 U. S. 60, 65; Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U. S. 516; NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U. S. 449.6

In Caldwell, the District Court found that “confidential relationships . . . are commonly developed, and maintained by professional journalists, and are indispensable to their work of gathering, analyzing and publishing the news.” 7 Commentators and individual reporters have repeatedly noted the importance of confidentiality.8 *731And surveys among reporters and editors indicate that the promise of nondisclosure is necessary for many types of news gathering.9

Finally, and most important, when governmental officials possess an unchecked power to compel newsmen to disclose information received in confidence, sources will clearly be deterred from giving information, and reporters will clearly be deterred from publishing it, because uncertainty about exercise of the power will lead to “self-censorship.” Smith v. California, 361 U. S. 147, 149-154; New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 279. The uncertainty arises, of course, because the judiciary has traditionally imposed virtually no limitations on the grand jury’s broad investigatory powers. See Antell, The Modern Grand Jury: Benighted Super-government, 51 A. B. A. J. 153 (1965). See also Part II, infra.

After today's decision, the potential informant can never be sure that his identity or off-the-record communications will not subsequently be revealed through the compelled testimony of a newsman. A public-spirited person inside government, who is not implicated in any crime, will now be fearful of revealing corruption or other governmental wrongdoing, because he will now know he can subsequently be identified by use of compulsory process. The potential source must, therefore, choose between risking exposure by giving information or avoiding the risk by remaining silent.

The reporter must speculate about whether contact with a controversial source or publication of controversial material will lead to a subpoena. In the event of a *732subpoena, under today’s decision, the newsman will know that he must choose between being punished for contempt if he refuses to testify, or violating his profession’s ethics10 and impairing his resourcefulness as a reporter if he discloses confidential information.11

Again, the commonsense understanding that such deterrence will occur is buttressed by concrete evidence. The existence of deterrent effects through fear and self-censorship was impressively developed in the District Court in Caldwell12 Individual reporters13 and commentators14 have noted such effects. Surveys have verified that an unbridled subpoena power will substan*733tially impair the flow of news to the public, especially in sensitive areas involving governmental officials, financial affairs, political figures, dissidents, or minority groups that require in-depth, investigative reporting.15 And the Justice Department has recognized that “compulsory process in some circumstances may have a limiting effect on the exercise of First Amendment rights.” 16 No evidence contradicting the existence of such deterrent effects was offered at the trials or in the briefs here by the petitioner in Caldwell or by the respondents in Branz-burg and Pappas.

The impairment of the flow of news cannot, of course, be proved with scientific precision, as the Court seems to demand. Obviously, not every news-gathering relationship requires confidentiality. And it is difficult to pinpoint precisely how many relationships do require a promise or understanding of nondisclosure. But we have never before demanded that First Amendment rights rest on elaborate empirical studies demonstrating beyond any conceivable doubt that deterrent effects exist; we have never before required proof of the exact number of people potentially affected by governmental action, who would actually be dissuaded from engaging in First Amendment activity.

Rather, on the basis of common sense and available information, we have asked, often implicitly, (1) whether there was a rational connection between the cause (the governmental action) and the effect (the deterrence or *734impairment of First Amendment activity), and (2) whether the effect would occur with some regularity, i. e., would not be de minimis. See, e. g., Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U. S., at 244-245 ; Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U. S. 495, 503; Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U. S. 234, 248 (plurality opinion); NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U. S., at 461-466; Smith v. California, 361 U. S., at 150-154; Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U. S., at 523-524; Talley v. California, 362 U. S., at 64-65; Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479, 485-486; Cramp v. Board of Public Instruction, 368 U. S. 278, 286; NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 431-438; Gibson v. Florida Legislative Investigation Committee, 372 U. S. 539, 555-557; New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 277-278; Freedman v. Maryland, 380 U. S. 51, 59; DeGregory v. New Hampshire Attorney General, 383 U. S. 825; Elfbrandt v. Russell, 384 U. S. 11, 16-19. And, in making this determination, we have shown a special solicitude towards the “indispensable liberties” protected by the First Amendment, NAACP v. Alabama, supra, at 461; Bantam Books, Inc. v. Sullivan, 372 U. S. 58, 66, for “[f]reedoms such as these are protected not only against heavy-handed frontal attack, but also from being stifled by more subtle governmental interference.” Bates, supra, at 523.17 Once this threshold inquiry has been satisfied, we have then examined the competing interests in determining whether *735there is an unconstitutional infringement of First Amendment freedoms.

For example, in NAACP v. Alabama, supra, we found that compelled disclosure of the names of those in Alabama who belonged to the NAACP “is likely to affect adversely the ability [of the NAACP] and its members to pursue their . . . beliefs which they admittedly have the right to advocate, in that it may induce members to withdraw from the Association and dissuade others from joining it because of fear of exposure of their beliefs shown through their associations and of the consequences of this exposure.” Id., at 462-463. In Talley, supra, we held invalid a city ordinance that forbade circulation of any handbill that did not have the distributor's name on it, for there was “no doubt that such an identification requirement would tend to restrict freedom to distribute information and thereby freedom of expression.” Id., at 64. And in Burstyn, Inc., supra, we found deterrence of First Amendment activity inherent in a censor’s power to exercise unbridled discretion under an overbroad statute. Id., at 503.

Surely the analogous claim of deterrence here is as securely grounded in evidence and common sense as the claims in the cases cited above, although the Court calls the claim “speculative.” See ante, at 694. The deterrence may not occur in every confidential relationship between a reporter and his source.18 But it will cer*736tainly occur in certain types of relationships involving sensitive and controversial matters. And such relationships are vital to the free flow of information.

To require any greater burden of proof is to shirk our duty to protect values securely embedded in the Constitution. We cannot await an unequivocal — and therefore unattainable — imprimatur from empirical studies.19 We can and must accept the evidence developed in the record, and elsewhere, that overwhelmingly supports the premise that deterrence will occur with regularity in important types of news-gathering relationships.20

Thus, we cannot escape the conclusion that when neither the reporter nor his source can rely on the shield of confidentiality against unrestrained use of the grand jury’s subpoena power, valuable information will not be published and the public dialogue will inevitably be impoverished.

II

Posed against the First Amendment’s protection of the newsman’s confidential relationships in these cases is society’s interest in the use of the grand jury to ad*737minister justice fairly and effectively. The grand jury serves two important functions: “to examine into the commission of crimes” and “to stand between the prosecutor and the accused, and to determine whether the charge was founded upon credible testimony or was dictated by malice or personal ill will.” Hale v. Henkel, 201 U. S. 43, 59. And to perform these functions the grand jury must have available to it every man’s relevant evidence. See Blair v. United States, 250 U. S. 273, 281; Blackmer v. United States, 284 U. S. 421, 438.

Yet the longstanding rule making every person’s evidence available to the grand jury is not absolute. The rule has been limited by the Fifth Amendment,21 the Fourth Amendment,22 and the evidentiary privileges of the common law.23 So it was that in Blair, supra, after recognizing that the right against compulsory self-incrimination prohibited certain inquiries, the Court noted that “some confidential matters are shielded from considerations of policy, and perhaps in other cases for special reasons a witness may be excused from telling all that he knows.” Id., at 281 (emphasis supplied). And in United States v. Bryan, 339 U. S. 323, the Court observed that any exemption from the duty to testify before the grand jury “presupposes a very real interest to be protected.” Id., at 332.

Such an interest must surely be the First Amendment protection of a confidential relationship that I have discussed above in Part I. As noted there, this protection does not exist for the purely private interests of the *738newsman or his informant, nor even, at bottom, for the First Amendment interests of either partner in the news-gathering relationship.24 Rather, it functions to insure nothing less than democratic decisionmaking through the free flow of information to the public, and it serves, thereby, to honor the “profound national commitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 270.

In striking the proper balance between the public interest in the efficient administration of justice and the First Amendment guarantee of the fullest flow of information, we must begin with the basic proposition that because of their “delicate and vulnerable” nature, NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S., at 433, and their transcendent importance for the just functioning of our society, First Amendment rights require special safeguards.

A

This Court has erected such safeguards when government, by legislative investigation or other investigative means, has attempted to pierce the shield of privacy inherent in freedom of association.25 In no previous case have we considered the extent to which the First Amendment limits the grand jury subpoena power. But the *739Court has said that “[t]he Bill of Rights is applicable to investigations as to all forms of governmental action. Witnesses cannot be compelled to give evidence against themselves. They cannot be subjected to unreasonable search and seizure. Nor can the First Amendment freedoms of speech, press ... or political belief and association be abridged.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U. S. 178, 188. And in Sweezy v. New Hampshire it was stated: “It is particularly important that the exercise of the power of compulsory process be carefully circumscribed when the investigative process tends to impinge upon such highly sensitive areas as freedom of speech or press, freedom of political association, and freedom of communication of ideas.” 354 U. S., at 245 (plurality opinion).

The established method of “carefully” circumscribing-investigative powers is to place a heavy burden of justification on government officials when First Amendment rights are impaired. The decisions of this Court have “consistently held that only a compelling state interest in the regulation of a subject within the State’s constitutional power to regulate can justify limiting First Amendment freedoms.” NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S., at 438. And “it is an essential prerequisite to the validity of an investigation which intrudes into the area of constitutionally protected rights of speech, press, association and petition that the State convincingly show a substantial relation between the information sought and a subject of overriding and compelling state interest.” Gibson v. Florida Legislative Investigation Committee, 372 U. S., at 546 (emphasis supplied). See also DeGregory v. Attorney General of New Hampshire, 383 U. S. 825; NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U. S. 449; Sweezy, supra; Watkins, supra.

Thus, when an investigation impinges on First Amendment rights, the government must not only show that *740the inquiry is of “compelling and overriding importance” but it must also “convincingly” demonstrate that the investigation is “substantially related” to the information sought.

Governmental officials must, therefore, demonstrate that the information sought is clearly relevant to a precisely defined subject of governmental inquiry. Watkins, supra; Sweezy, supra.26 They must demonstrate that it is reasonable to think the witness in question has that information. Sweezy, supra; Gibson, supra,27 And they must show that there is not any means of obtaining the information less destructive of First Amendment liberties. Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S., at 488; Louisiana ex rel. Gremillion v. NAACP, 366 U. S. 293, 296-297.28

These requirements, which we have recognized in decisions involving legislative and executive investigations, serve established policies reflected in numerous First *741Amendment decisions arising in other contexts. The requirements militate against vague investigations that, like vague laws, create uncertainty and needlessly discourage First Amendment activity.29 They also insure that a legitimate governmental purpose will not be pursued by means that “broadly stifle fundamental personal liberties when the end can be more narrowly achieved.” Shelton, supra, at 488.30 As we said in Gibson, supra, “Of course, a legislative investigation — as any investigation — must proceed ‘step by step,’ . . . but step by step or in totality, an adequate foundation for inquiry must be laid before proceeding in such a manner as will substantially intrude upon and severely curtail or inhibit constitutionally protected activities or seriously interfere with similarly protected associational rights.” 372 U. S., at 557.

I believe the safeguards developed in our decisions involving governmental investigations must apply to the grand jury inquiries in these cases. Surely the function of the grand jury to aid in the enforcement of the law is no more important than the function of the legislature, and its committees, to make the law. We have long recognized the value of the role played by legislative investigations, see, e. g., United States v. Rumely, *742345 U. S. 41, 43; Barenblatt v. United States, 360 U. S. 109, 111-112, for the “power of the Congress to conduct investigations is inherent . . . [encompassing] surveys of defects in our social, economic or political system for the purpose of enabling the Congress to remedy them.” Watkins, supra, at 187. Similarly, the associational rights of private individuals, which have been the prime focus of our First Amendment decisions in the investigative sphere, are hardly more important than the First Amendment rights of mass circulation newspapers and electronic media to disseminate ideas and information, and of the general public to receive them. Moreover, the vices of vagueness and overbreadth that legislative investigations may manifest are also exhibited by grand jury inquiries, since grand jury investigations are not limited in scope to specific criminal acts, see, e. g., Wilson v. United States, 221 U. S. 361, Hendricks v. United States, 223 U. S. 178, 184, United States v. Johnson, 319 U. S. 503, and since standards of materiality and relevance are greatly relaxed. Holt v. United States, 218 U. S. 245; Costello v. United States, 350 U. S. 359. See generally Note, The Grand Jury as an Investigatory Body, 74 Harv. L. Rev. 590, 591-592 (1961).31 For, as the United States notes in its brief in Caldwell, the *743grand jury “need establish no factual basis for commencing an investigation, and can pursue rumors which further investigation may prove groundless.”

Accordingly, when a reporter is asked to appear before a grand jury and reveal confidences, I would hold that the government must (1) show that there is probable cause to believe that the newsman has information that is clearly relevant to a specific probable violation of law;32 (2) demonstrate that the information sought cannot be obtained by alternative means less destructive of First Amendment rights; and (3) demonstrate a compelling and overriding interest in the information.33

This is not to say that a grand jury could not issue a subpoena until such a showing were made, and it is not to say that a newsman would be in any way privileged to ignore any subpoena that was issued. Obviously, before the government’s burden to make such a showing were triggered, the reporter would have to move to quash the subpoena, asserting the basis on which he considered the particular relationship a confidential one.

*744B

The crux of the Court’s rejection of any newsman’s privilege is its observation that only “where news sources themselves are implicated in crime or possess information relevant to the grand jury’s task need they or the reporter be concerned about grand jury subpoenas.” See ante, at 691 (emphasis supplied). But this is a most misleading construct. For it is obviously not true that the only persons about whom reporters will be forced to testify will be those “confidential informants involved in actual criminal conduct” and those having “information suggesting illegal conduct by others.” See ante, at 691, 693. As noted above, given the grand jury’s extraordinarily broad investigative powers and the weak standards of relevance and materiality that apply during such inquiries, reporters, if they have no testimonial privilege, will be called to give information about informants who have neither committed crimes nor have information about crime. It is to avoid deterrence of such sources and thus to prevent needless injury to First Amendment values that I think the government must be required to show probable cause that the newsman has information that is clearly relevant to a specific probable violation of criminal law.34

*745Similarly, a reporter may have information from a confidential source that is “related” to the commission of crime, but the government may be able to obtain an indictment or otherwise achieve its purposes by subpoenaing persons other than the reporter. It is an obvious but important truism that when government aims have been fully served, there can be no legitimate reason to disrupt a confidential relationship between a reporter and his source. To do so would not aid the administration of justice and would only impair the flow of information to the public. Thus, it is to avoid deterrence of such sources that I think the government must show that there are no alternative means for the grand jury to obtain the information sought.

Both the “probable cause” and “alternative means” requirements would thus serve the vital function of mediating between the public interest in the administration of justice and the constitutional protection of the full flow of information. These requirements would avoid a direct conflict between these competing concerns, and they would generally provide adequate protection for newsmen. See Part III, m/m.35 No doubt the courts would be required to make some delicate judgments in working out this accommodation. But that, after all, *746is the function of courts of law. Better such judgments, however difficult, than the simplistic and stultifying absolutism adopted by the Court in denying any force to the First Amendment in these cases.36

The error in the Court’s absolute rejection of First Amendment interests in these cases seems to me to be most profound. For in the name of advancing the administration of justice, the Court’s decision, I think, will only impair the achievement of that goal. People entrusted with law enforcement responsibility, no less than private citizens, need general information relating to controversial social problems. Obviously, press reports have great value to government, even when the newsman cannot be compelled to testify before a grand jury. The sad paradox of the Court’s position is that when a grand jury may exercise an unbridled subpoena power, and sources involved in sensitive matters become fearful of disclosing information, the newsman will not only cease to be a useful grand jury witness; he will cease to investigate and publish information about issues of public import. I cannot subscribe to such an anomalous result, for, in my view, the interests protected by the First Amendment are not antagonistic to the administration of justice. Rather, they can, in the long run, only be complementary, and for that reason must be given great “breathing space.” NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S., at 433.

Ill

In deciding what protection should be given to information a reporter receives in confidence from a news source, the Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit affirmed the holding of the District Court that the grand *747jury power of testimonial compulsion must not be exercised in a manner likely to impair First Amendment interests “until there has been a clear showing of a compelling and overriding national interest that cannot be served by any alternative means.” Caldwell v. United States, 434 F. 2d 1081, 1086. It approved the request of respondent Caldwell for specification by the government of the “subject, direction or scope of the Grand Jury inquiry.” Id., at 1085. And it held that in the circumstances of this case Caldwell need not divulge confidential information.

I think this decision was correct. On the record before us the United States has not met the burden that I think the appropriate newsman’s privilege should require.

In affidavits before the District Court, the United States said it was investigating possible violations of 18 U. S. C. § 871 (threats against the President), 18 U. S. C. § 1751 (assassination, attempts to assassinate, conspiracy to assassinate the President), 18 U. S. C. § 231 (civil disorders), 18 U. S. C. § 2101 (interstate travel to incite a riot), 18 U. S. C. § 1341 (mail fraud and swindles) and other crimes that were not specified. But, with one exception, there has been no factual showing in this case of the probable commission of, or of attempts to commit, any crimes.37 The single exception relates to the allegation that a Black Panther Party leader, David Hilliard, violated 18 U. S. C. § 871 during the course of a speech in November 1969. But Caldwell was subpoenaed two months after an indictment was returned against Hil-liard, and that charge could not, subsequent to the indictment, be investigated by a grand jury. See In re National Window Glass Workers, 287 F. 219; United *748States v. Dardi, 330 F. 2d 316, 336.38 Furthermore, the record before us does not show that Caldwell probably had any information about the violation of any other federal criminal laws,39 or that alternative *749means of obtaining the desired information were pursued.40

In the Caldwell case, the Court of Appeals further found that Caldwell’s confidential relationship with the leaders of the Black Panther Party would be impaired if he appeared before the grand jury at all to answer questions, even though not privileged. Caldwell v. United States, 434 F. 2d, at 1088. On the particular facts before it,41 the court concluded that the very *750appearance by Caldwell before the grand jury would jeopardize his relationship with his sources, leading to a severance of the news-gathering relationship and impairment of the flow of news to the public:42

“Appellant asserted in affidavit that there is nothing to which he could testify (beyond that which he has already made public and for which, therefore, his appearance is unnecessary) that is not protected by the District Court’s order. If this is true — and the Government apparently has not believed it necessary to dispute it — appellant’s response to the subpoena would be a barren perform-*751anee — one of no benefit to the Grand Jury. To destroy appellant’s capacity as news gatherer for such a return hardly makes sense. Since the cost to the public of excusing his attendance is so slight, it may be said that there is here no public interest of real substance in competition with the First Amendment freedoms that are jeopardized.
“If any competing public interest is ever to arise in a case such as this (where First Amendment liberties are threatened by mere appearance at a Grand Jury investigation) it will be on an occasion in which the witness, armed with his privilege, can still serve a useful purpose before the Grand Jury. Considering the scope of the privilege embodied in the protective order, these occasions would seem to be unusual. It is not asking too much of the Government to show that such an occasion is presented here.” Id., at 1089.

I think this ruling was also correct in fight of the particularized circumstances of the Caldwell case. Obviously, only in very rare circumstances would a confidential relationship between a reporter and his source be so sensitive that mere appearance before the grand jury by the newsman would substantially irhpair his news-gathering function. But in this case, the reporter made out a prima facie case that the flow of news to the public would be curtailed. And he stated, without contradiction, that the only nonconfidential material about which he could testify was already printed in his newspaper articles.43 Since the United States has not attempted to *752refute this assertion, the appearance of Caldwell would, on these facts, indeed be a “barren performance.” But this aspect of the Caldwell judgment I would confine to its own facts. As the Court of Appeals appropriately observed: “[T]he rule of this case is a narrow one. . . .” Caldwell, supra, at 1090.

Accordingly, I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals in No. 70-57, United States v. Caldwell.44 In the other two cases before us, No. 70-85, Branzburg v. Hayes and Meigs, and No. 70-94, In re Pappas, I would vacate the judgments and remand the cases for further proceedings not inconsistent with the views I have expressed in this opinion.

15.21 Miller v. California 15.21 Miller v. California

MILLER v. CALIFORNIA

No. 70-73.

Argued January 18-19, 1972

— Reargued November 7, 1972 —

Decided June 21, 1973

*16Burger, C. J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which White, BlackmuN, Powell, and Rehnquist, JJ., joined. Douglas, J., filed a dissenting opinion, post, p. 37. Brennan, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Stewart and Marshall, JJ., joined, post, p. 47.

Burton Marks reargued the cause and filed a brief for appellant.

Michael B. Capizzi reargued the cause for appellee. With him on the brief was Cecil Hicks.*

*

Samuel Rosenwein, A. L. Wirin, Fred Ohrand, Laurence R. Sperber, Melvin L. Wulf, and Joel M. Gora filed a brief for the American Civil Liberties Union of Southern California et al. as amici curiae urging reversal.

Mr. Chief Justice Burger

delivered the opinion of the Court.

This is one of a group of “obscenity-pornography” cases being reviewed by the Court in a re-examination of standards enunciated in earlier cases involving what Mr. Justice Harlan called “the intractable obscenity problem.” Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U. S. 676, 704 (1968) (concurring and dissenting).

Appellant conducted a mass mailing campaign to advertise the sale of illustrated books, euphemistically called “adult” material. After a jury trial, he was convicted of violating California Penal Code § 311.2 (a), a misdemeanor, by knowingly distributing obscene matter,1 *17and the Appellate Department, Superior Court of California, County of Orange, summarily affirmed the judgment without opinion. Appellant's conviction was spe*18cifically based on his conduct in causing five unsolicited advertising brochures to be sent through the mail in an envelope addressed to a restaurant in Newport Beach, California. The envelope was opened by the manager of the restaurant and his mother. They had not requested the brochures; they complained to the police.

The brochures advertise four books entitled “Intercourse,” “Man-Woman,” “Sex Orgies Illustrated,” and “An Illustrated History of Pornography,” and a film entitled “Marital Intercourse.” While the brochures contain some descriptive printed material, primarily they consist of pictures and drawings very explicitly depicting men and women in groups of two or more engaging in a variety of sexual activities, with genitals often prominently displayed.

I

This case involves the application of a State’s criminal obscenity statute to a situation in which sexually explicit materials have been thrust by aggressive sales action upon unwilling recipients who had in no way indicated any desire to receive such materials. This Court has recognized that the States have a legitimate interest in prohibiting dissemination or exhibition of obscene material2 *19when the mode of dissemination carries with it a significant danger of offending the sensibilities of unwilling recipients or of exposure to juveniles. Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557, 567 (1969); Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629, 637-643 (1968); Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, supra, at 690; Redrup v. New York, 386 U. S. 767, 769 (1967); Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 195 (1964). See Robe v. Washington, 405 U. S. 313, 317 (1972) (Burger, C. J., concurring); United States v. Reidel, 402 U. S. 351, 360-362 (1971) (opinion of Marshall, J.); Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U. S. 495, 502 (1952); Breard v. Alexandria, 341 U. S. 622, 644-645 (1951); Kovacs v. Cooper, 336 U. S. 77, 88-89 (1949); Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158, 169-170 (1944). Cf. Butler v. Michigan, 352 U. S. 380, 382-383 (1957); Public Utilities Comm’n v. Pollak, 343 U. S. 451, 464—465 (1952). It is in this context that we are called *20on to define the standards which must be used to identify obscene material that a State may regulate without infringing on the First Amendment as applicable to the States through the Fourteenth Amendment.

The dissent of Mr. Justice Brennan reviews the background of the obscenity problem, but since the Court now undertakes to formulate standards more concrete than those in the past, it is useful for us to focus on two of the landmark cases in the somewhat tortured history of the Court’s obscenity decisions. In Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476 (1957), the Court sustained a conviction under a federal statute punishing the mailing of “obscene, lewd, lascivious or filthy ...” materials. The key to that holding was the Court’s rejection of the claim that obscene materials were protected by the First Amendment. Five Justices joined in the opinion stating:

“All ideas having even the slightest redeeming social importance- — unorthodox ideas, controversial ideas, even ideas hateful to the prevailing climate of opinion — have the full protection of the [First Amendment] guaranties, unless excludable because they encroach upon the limited area of more important interests. But implicit in the history of the First Amendment is the rejection of obscenity as utterly without redeeming social importance. . . . This is the same judgment expressed by this Court in Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 571-572:
“ ‘. . . 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. These include the lewd and obscene .... It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social *21value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality. . . [Emphasis by Court in Roth opinion.]
“We hold that obscenity is not within the area of constitutionally protected speech or press.” 354 U. S., at 484-485 (footnotes omitted).

Nine years later, in Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U. S. 413 (1966), the Court veered sharply away from the Roth concept and, with only three Justices in the plurality opinion, articulated a new test of obscenity. The plurality held that under the Roth definition

“as elaborated in subsequent cases, three elements must coalesce: it must be established that (a) the dominant theme of the material taken as a whole appeals to a prurient interest in sex; (b) the material is patently offensive because it affronts contemporary community standards relating to the description or representation of sexual matters; and (c) the material is utterly without redeeming social value.” Id., at 418.

The sharpness of the break with Roth, represented by the third element of the Memoirs test and emphasized by Mr. Justice White’s dissent, id., at 460-462, was further underscored when the Memoirs plurality went on to state:

“The Supreme Judicial Court erred in holding that a book need not be 'unqualifiedly worthless before it can be deemed obscene.’ A book cannot be proscribed unless it is found to be utterly without redeeming social value.” Id., at 419 (emphasis in original).

While Roth presumed “obscenity” to be “utterly without redeeming social importance,” Memoirs required *22that to prove obscenity it must be affirmatively established that the material is “utterly without redeeming social value.” Thus, even as they repeated the words of Both, the Memoirs plurality produced a drastically altered test that called on the prosecution to prove a negative, i. e., that the material was “utterly without redeeming social value” — a burden virtually impossible to discharge under our criminal standards of proof. Such considerations caused Mr. Justice Harlan to wonder if the “utterly without redeeming social value” test had any meaning at all. See Memoirs v. Massachusetts, id., at 459 (Harlan, J., dissenting). See also id., at 461 (White, J., dissenting); United States v. Groner, 479 F. 2d 577, 579-581 (CA5 1973).

Apart from the initial formulation in the Roth case, no majority of the Court has at any given time been able to agree on a standard to determine what constitutes obscene, pornographic material subject to regulation under the States’ police power. See, e. g., Redrup v. New York, 386 U. S., at 770-771. We have seen “a variety of views among the members of the Court unmatched in any other course of constitutional adjudication.” Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U. S., at 704-705 (Harlan, J., concurring and dissenting) (footnote omitted).3 This is not remarkable, for in the area *23of freedom of speech and press the courts must always remain sensitive to any infringement on genuinely serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific expression. This is an area in which there are few eternal verities.

The case we now review was tried on the theory that the California Penal Code § 311 approximately incorporates the three-stage Memoirs test, supra. But now the Memoirs test has been abandoned as unworkable by its author,4 and no Member of the Court today supports the Memoirs formulation.

II

This much has been categorically settled by the Court, that obscene material is unprotected by the First Amendment. Kois v. Wisconsin, 408 U. S. 229 (1972); United States v. Reidel, 402 U. S., at 354; Roth v. United States, supra, at 485.5 “The First and Fourteenth Amendments have never been treated as absolutes [footnote omitted].” Breard v. Alexandria, 341 U. S., at 642, and cases cited. See Times Film Corp. v. Chicago, 365 U. S. 43, 47-50 (1961); Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U. S., at 502. We acknowledge, however, the inherent dangers of undertaking to regulate any form of expression. State statutes designed to regulate obscene materials must be *24carefully limited. See Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, supra, at 682-685. As a result, we now confine the permissible scope of such regulation to works which depict or describe sexual conduct. That conduct must be specifically defined by the applicable state law, as written or authoritatively construed.6 A state offense must also be limited to works which, taken as a whole, appeal to the prurient interest in sex, which portray sexual conduct in a patently offensive way, and which, taken as a whole, do not have serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.

The basic guidelines for the trier of fact must be: (a) whether “the average person, applying contemporary community standards” would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest, Kois v. Wisconsin, supra, at 230, quoting Roth v. United States, supra, at 489; (b) whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and (c) whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value. We do not adopt as a constitutional standard the “utterly without redeeming social value” test of Memoirs v. Massachusetts, *25383 U. S., at 419; that concept has never commanded the adherence of more than three Justices at one time.7 See supra, at 21. If a state law that regulates obscene material is thus limited, as written or construed, the First Amendment values applicable to the States through the Fourteenth Amendment are adequately protected by the ultimate power of appellate courts to conduct an independent review of constitutional claims when necessary. See Kois v. Wisconsin, supra, at 232; Memoirs v. Massachusetts, supra, at 459-460 (Harlan, J., dissenting); Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S., at 204 (Harlan, J., dissenting); New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 284-285 (1964); Roth v. United States, supra, at 497—198 (Harlan, J., concurring and dissenting).

We emphasize that it is not our function to propose regulatory schemes for the States. That must await their concrete legislative efforts. It is possible, however, to give a few plain examples of what a state statute could define for regulation under part (b) of the standard announced in this opinion, supra:

(a) Patently offensive representations or descriptions of ultimate sexual acts, normal or perverted, actual or simulated.

(b) Patently offensive representations or descriptions of masturbation, excretory functions, and lewd exhibition of the genitals.

Sex and nudity may not be exploited without limit by films or pictures exhibited or sold in places of public accommodation any more than live sex and nudity can *26be exhibited or sold without limit in such public places.8 At a minimum, prurient, patently offensive depiction or description of sexual conduct must have serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value to merit First Amendment protection. See Kois v. Wisconsin, supra, at 230-232; Roth v. United States, supra, at 487; Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 101-102 (1940). For example, medical books for the education of physicians and related personnel necessarily use graphic illustrations and descriptions of human anatomy. In resolving the inevitably sensitive questions of fact and law, we must continue to rely on the jury system, accompanied by the safeguards that judges, rules of evidence, presumption of innocence, and other protective features provide, as we do with rape, murder, and a host of other offenses against society and its individual members.9

Mr. Justice Brennan, author of the opinions of the Court, or the plurality opinions, in Roth v. United States, supra; Jacobellis v. Ohio, supra; Ginzburg v. United *27States, 383 U. S. 463 (1966), Mishkin v. New York, 383 U. S. 502 (1966); and Memoirs v. Massachusetts, supra, has abandoned his former position and now maintains that no formulation of this Court, the Congress, or the States can adequately distinguish obscene material unprotected by the First Amendment from protected expression, Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, post, p. 73 (Brennan, J., dissenting). Paradoxically, Mr. Justice Brennan indicates that suppression of unprotected obscene material is permissible to avoid exposure to un-consenting adults, as in this case, and to juveniles, although he gives no indication of how the division between protected and nonprotected materials may be drawn with greater precision for these purposes than for regulation of commercial exposure to consenting adults only. Nor does he indicate where in the Constitution he finds the authority to distinguish between a willing “adult” one month past the state law age of majority and a willing “juvenile” one month younger.

Under the holdings announced today, no one will be subject to prosecution for the sale or exposure of obscene materials unless these materials depict or describe patently offensive “hard core” sexual conduct specifically defined by the regulating state law, as written or construed. We are satisfied that these specific prerequisites will provide fair notice to a dealer in such materials that his public and commercial activities may bring prosecution. See Roth v. United States, supra, at 491-492. Cf. Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S., at 643.10 If *28the inability to define regulated materials with ultimate, god-like precision altogether removes the power of the States or the Congress to regulate, then “hard core” pornography may be exposed without limit to the juvenile, the passerby, and the consenting adult alike, as, indeed, Mr. Justice Douglas contends. As to Mr. Justice Douglas’ position, see United States v. Thirty-seven Photographs, 402 U. S. 363, 379-380 (1971) (Black, J., joined by Douglas, J., dissenting); Ginzburg v. United States, supra, at 476, 491-492 (Black, J., and Douglas, J., dissenting); Jacobellis v. Ohio, supra, at 196 (Black, J., joined by Douglas, J., concurring); Roth, supra, at 508-514 (Douglas, J., dissenting). In this belief, however, Mr. Justice Douglas now stands alone.

Mr. Justice Brennan also emphasizes “institutional stress” in justification of his change of view. Noting that “[t]he number of obscenity cases on our docket gives ample testimony to the burden that has been placed upon this Court,” he quite rightly remarks that the examination of contested materials “is hardly a source of edification to the members of this Court.” Paris Adult *29Theatre I v. Slaton, post, at 92, 93. He also notes, and we agree, that “uncertainty of the standards creates a continuing source of tension between state and federal courts . . . “The problem is . . . that one cannot say with certainty that material is obscene until at least five members of this Court, applying inevitably obscure standards, have pronounced it so.” Id., at 93, 92.

It is certainly true that the absence, since Roth, of a single majority view of this Court as to proper standards for testing obscenity has placed a strain on both state and federal courts. But today, fojr the first time since Roth was decided in 1957j a majority of this Court has agreed on concrete guidelines to isolate “hard core” pornography from expression protected fey the First Amendment. Now we may abandon the casual practice of Redrup v. New York, 386 U. S. 767 (1967), and attempt to provide positive guidance to federal' and state courts alike.

This may not be an easy road, free from difficulty. But no amount of “fatigue” should lead us to adopt a convenient “institutional” rationale — an absolutist, “anything goes” view of the First Amendment — because it will lighten our burdens.11 “Such an abnegation of judicial supervision in this field would be inconsistent with our duty to uphold the constitutional guarantees.” Jacobellis v. Ohio, supra, at 187-188 (opinion of Brennan, J.). Nor should we remedy “tension between state and federal courts” by arbitrarily depriving the States of a power reserved to them under the Constitution, a power which they have enjoyed and exercised continuously from before the adoption of the First Amendment to this day. See Roth v. United States, supra, at 482-485. “Our duty admits of no 'substitute for facing up *30to the tough individual problems of constitutional judgment involved in every obscenity case.’ [Roth v. United States, supra, at 498]; see Manual Enterprises, Inc. v. Day, 370 U. S. 478, 488 (opinion of Harlan, J.) [footnote omitted].” Jacobellis v. Ohio, supra, at 188 (opinion of Brennan, J.).

III.

Under a National Constitution, fundamental First Amendment limitations on the powers of the States do not vary from community to community, but this does not mean that there are, or should or can be, fixed, uniform national standards of precisely what appeals to the “prurient interest” or is “patently offensive.” These are essentially questions of fact, and our Nation is simply too big and too diverse for this Court to reasonably expect that such standards could be articulated for all 50 States in a single formulation, even assuming the prerequisite consensus exists. When triers of fact are asked to decide whether “the average person, applying contemporary community standards” would consider certain materials “prurient,” it would be unrealistic to require that the answer be based on some abstract formulation. The adversary system, with lay jurors as the usual ultimate factfinders in criminal prosecutions, has historically permitted triers of fact to draw on the standards of their community, guided always by limiting instructions on the law. To require a State to structure obscenity proceedings around evidence of a national “community standard” would be an exercise in futility.

As noted before, this case was tried on the theory that the California obscenity statute sought to incorporate the tripartite test of Memoirs. This, a “national” standard of First Amendment protection enumerated by a plurality of this Court, was correctly regarded at the time of trial as limiting state prosecution under the controlling case *31law. The jury, however, was explicitly instructed that, in determining whether the "dominant theme of the material as a whole . . . appeals to the prurient interest” and in determining whether the material “goes substantially beyond customary limits of candor and affronts contemporary community standards of decency,” it was to apply “contemporary community standards of the State of California.”

During the trial, both the prosecution and the defense assumed that the relevant “community standards” in making the factual determination of obscenity were those of the State of California, not some hypothetical standard of the entire United States of America. Defense counsel at trial never objected to the testimony of the State's expert on community standards12 or to the instructions of the trial judge on “statewide” standards. On appeal to the Appellate Department, Superior Court of California, County of Orange, appellant for the first time contended that application of state, rather than national, standards violated the First and Fourteenth Amendments.

We conclude that neither the State’s alleged failure to offer evidence of “national standards,” nor the trial court’s charge that the jury consider state community standards, were constitutional errors. Nothing in the First Amendment requires that a jury must consider hypothetical and unascertainable “national standards” when attempting to determine whether certain materials are obscene as a mat*32ter of fact. Mr. Chief Justice Warren pointedly commented in his dissent in Jacobellis v. Ohio, supra, at 200:

“It is my belief that when the Court said in Both that obscenity is to be defined by reference to 'community standards/ it meant community standards — not a national standard, as is sometimes argued. I believe that there is no provable 'national standard’ .... At all events, this Court has not been able to enunciate one, and it would be unreasonable to expect local courts to divine one.”

It is neither realistic nor constitutionally sound to read the First Amendment as requiring that the people of Maine or Mississippi accept public depiction of conduct found tolerable in Las Vegas, or New York City.13 *33See Hoyt v. Minnesota, 399 U. S. 524-525 (1970) (Black-MUN, J., dissenting); Walker v. Ohio, 398 U. S. 434 (1970) (Burgee, C. J., dissenting); id., at 434-435 (Harlan, J., dissenting); Cain v. Kentucky, 397 U. S. 319 (1970) (Burger, C. J., dissenting); id., at 319-320 (Harlan, J., dissenting); United States v. Groner, 479 F. 2d, at 581-583; O’Meara & Shaffer, Obscenity in The Supreme Court: A Note on Jacobellis v. Ohio, 40 Notre Dame Law. 1, 6-7 (1964). See also Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U. S., at 458 (Harlan, J., dissenting); Jacobellis v. Ohio, supra, at 203-204 (Harlan, J., dissenting); Roth v. United States, supra, at 505-506 (Harlan, J., concurring and dissenting). People in different States vary in their tastes and attitudes, and this diversity is not to be strangled by the absolutism of imposed uniformity. As the Court made clear in Mishkin v. New York, 383 U. S., at 508-509, the primary concern with requiring a jury to apply the standard of “the average person, applying contemporary community standards” is to be certain that, so far as material is not aimed at a deviant group, it will be judged by its impact on an average person, rather than a particularly susceptible or sensitive person — or indeed a totally insensitive one. See Roth v. United States, supra, at 489. Cf. the now discredited test in Regina v. Hicklin, [1868] L. R. 3 Q. B. 360. We hold that the requirement that the jury evaluate the materials with reference to “contemporary *34standards of the State of California” serves this protective purpose and is constitutionally adequate.14

IV

The dissenting Justices sound the alarm of repression. But, in our view, to equate the free and robust exchange of ideas and political debate with commercial exploitation of obscene material demeans the grand conception of the First Amendment and its high purposes in the historic struggle for freedom. It is a “misuse of the great guarantees of free speech and free press . . . Breard v. Alexandria, 341 U. S., at 645. The First Amendment protects works which, taken as a whole, have serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value, regardless of whether the government or a majority of the people approve of the ideas these works represent. “The protection given speech and press was fashioned to assure unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of *35political and social changes desired by the people/' Roth v. United States, supra, at 484 (emphasis added). See Kois v. Wisconsin, 408 U. S., at 230-232; Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S., at 101-102. But the public portrayal of hard-core sexual conduct for its own sake, and for the ensuing commercial gain, is a different matter.15

There is no evidence, empirical or historical, that the stern 19th century American censorship of public distribution and display of material relating to sex, see Roth v. United States, supra, at 482-485, in any way limited or affected expression of serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific ideas. On the contrary, it is beyond any question that the era following Thomas Jefferson to Theodore Roosevelt was an “extraordinarily vigorous period,” not just in economics and politics, but in belles lettres and in “the outlying fields of social and political philosophies.” 16 We do not see the harsh hand *36of censorship of ideas — good or bad, sound or unsound— and “repression” of political liberty lurking in every state regulation of commercial exploitation of human interest in sex.

Mr. Justice Brennan finds “it is hard to see how state-ordered regimentation of our minds can ever be forestalled.” Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, post, at 110 (Brennan, J., dissenting). These doleful anticipations assume that courts cannot distinguish commerce in ideas, protected by the First Amendment, from commercial exploitation of obscene material. Moreover, state regulation of hard-core pornography so as to make it unavailable to nonadults, a regulation which Mr. Justice Brennan finds constitutionally permissible, has all the elements of “censorship” for adults; indeed even more rigid enforcement techniques may be called for with such dichotomy of regulation. See Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U. S., at 690.17 One can concede that the “sexual revolution” of recent years may have had useful byproducts in striking layers of prudery from a subject long irrationally kept from needed ventilation. But it does not follow that no regulation of patently offensive “hard core” materials is needed or permissible; civilized people do not allow unregulated access to heroin because it is a derivative of medicinal morphine.

In sum, we (a) reaffirm the Both holding that obscene material is not protected by the First Amendment; (b) hold that such material can be regulated by the States, subject to the specific safeguards enunciated *37above, without a showing that the material is “utterly without redeeming social value”; and (c) hold that obscenity is to be determined by applying “contemporary community standards,” see Kois v. Wisconsin, supra, at 230, and Roth v. United States, supra, at 489, not “national standards.” The judgment of the Appellate Department of the Superior Court, Orange County, California, is vacated and the case remanded to that court for further proceedings not inconsistent with the First Amendment standards established by this opinion. See United States v. 12 200-ft. Reels of Film, post, at 130 n. 7.

Vacated and remanded.

1

At the time of the commission of the alleged offense, which was prior to June 25, 1969, §§ 311.2 (a) and 311 of the California Penal Code read in relevant part:

Ҥ 311.2 Sending or bringing into state for sale or distribution; printing, exhibiting, distributing or possessing within state
“(a) Every person who knowingly: sends or causes to be sent, or brings or causes to be brought, into this state for sale or distribution, or in this state prepares, publishes, prints, exhibits, distributes, or offers to distribute, or has in his possession with intent to dis*17tribute or to exhibit or offer to distribute, any obscene matter is guilty of a misdemeanor. ...”
Ҥ 311. Definitions
“As used in this chapter:
“(a) 'Obscene’ means that to the average person, applying contemporary standards, the predominant appeal of the matter, taken as a whole, is to prurient interest, i. e., a shameful or morbid interest in nudity, sex, or excretion, which goes substantially beyond customary limits of candor in description or representation of such matters and is matter which is utterly without redeeming social importance.
“(b) ‘Matter’ means any book, magazine, newspaper, or other printed or written material or any picture, drawing, photograph, motion picture, or other pictorial representation or any statue or other figure, or any recording, transcription or mechanical, chemical or electrical reproduction or any other articles, equipment, machines or materials.
“(c) ‘Person’ means any individual, partnership, firm, association, corporation, or other legal entity.
“(d) ‘Distribute’ means to transfer possession of, whether with or without consideration.
“(e) ‘Knowingly’ means having knowledge that the matter is obscene.”
Section 311 (e) of the California Penal Code, supra, was amended on June 25, 1969, to read as follows:
“(e) ‘Knowingly’ means being aware of the character of the matter.”

Cal. Amended Stats. 1969, c. 249, § 1, p. 598. Despite appellant’s contentions to the contrary, the record indicates that the new § 311 (e) was not applied ex post facto to his case, but only the old § 311 (e) as construed by state decisions prior to the commission of the alleged offense. See People v. Pinkus, 256 Cal. App. 2d 941, 948-950, 63 Cal. Rptr. 680, 685-686 (App. Dept., Superior Ct., Los Angeles, 1967); People v. Campise, 242 Cal. App. 2d 905, 914, 51 Cal. Rptr. 815, 821 (App. Dept., Superior Ct., San Diego, 1966). Cf. Bouie v. City of Columbia, 378 U. S. 347 (1964). Nor did § 311.2, supra, as applied, create any “direct, immediate burden on the per-*18formanee of the postal functions,” or infringe on congressional commerce powers under Art. I, § 8, cl. 3. Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, 494 (1957), quoting Railway Mail Assn. v. Corsi, 326 U. S. 88, 96 (1945). See also Mishkin v. New York, 383 U. S. 502, 506 (1966); Smith v. California, 361 U, S. 147, 150-152 (1959).

2

This Court has defined “obscene material” as “material which deals with sex in a manner appealing to prurient interest,” Roth v. United States, supra, at 487, but the Roth definition does not reflect the precise meaning of “obscene” as traditionally used in the English language. Derived from the Latin obscaenus, ob, to, plus caenum, filth, “obscene” is defined in the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary (Unabridged 1969) as “la: dis*19gusting to the senses . . . b: grossly repugnant to the generally accepted notions of what is appropriate ... 2: offensive or revolting as countering or violating some ideal or principle.” The Oxford English Dictionary (1933 ed.) gives a similar definition, “[o]ffensive to the senses, or to taste or refinement; disgusting, repulsive, filthy, foul, abominable, loathsome.”

The material we are discussing in this case is more accurately defined as “pornography” or "pornographic material.” “Pornography” derives from the Greek {pome, harlot, and graphos, writing). The word now means “1: a description of prostitutes or prostitution 2: a depiction (as in writing or painting) of licentiousness or lewdness: a portrayal of erotic behavior designed to cause sexual excitement.” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary, supra. Pornographic material which is obscene forms a sub-group of all “obscene” expression, but not the whole, at least as the word “obscene” is now used in our language. We note, therefore, that the words "obscene material,” as used in this case, have a specific judicial meaning which derives from the Both case, i. e., obscene material “which deals with sex.” Roth, supra, at 487. See also ALI Model Penal Code § 251.4 (1) “Obscene Defined.” (Official Draft 1962.)

3

In the absence of a. majority view, this Court was compelled to embark on the practice of summarily reversing convictions for the dissemination of materials that at least five members of the Court, applying their separate tests, found to be protected by the First Amendment. Redrup v. New York, 386 U. S. 767 (1967). Thirty-one cases have been decided in this manner. Beyond the necessity of circumstances, however, no justification has ever been offered in support of the Redrwp “policy.” See Walker v. Ohio, 398 U. S. 434-435 (1970) (dissenting -opinions of Burger, C. J., and Harlan, J.). The Redrwp procedure has cast us in the role of an unreviewable board of censorship for the 50 States, subjectively judging each piece of material brought' before us.

4

See the dissenting opinion of Mr. Justice BreNNan in Paris Adult Theatre 1 v. Slaton, post, p. 73.

5

As Mr. Chief Justice Warren stated, dissenting, in Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 200 (1964) :

“For all the sound and fury that the Both test has generated, it has not been proved unsound, and I believe that we should try to live with it — at least until a more satisfactory definition is evolved. No government — be it federal, state, or local — should be forced to choose between repressing all material, including that within the realm of decency, and allowing unrestrained license to publish any material, no matter how vile. There must be a rule of reason in this as in other areas of the law, and we have attempted in the Roth case to provide such a rule.”

6

See, e. g., Oregon Laws 1971, c. 743, Art. 29, §§ 255-262, and Hawaii Penal Code, Tit. 37, §§ 1210-1216, 1972 Hawaii Session Laws, Act 9, c. 12, pt. II, pp. 126-129, as examples of state laws directed at depiction of defined physical conduct, as opposed to expression. Other state formulations could be equally valid in this respect. In giving the Oregon and Hawaii statutes as examples, we do not wish to be understood as approving of them in all other respects nor as establishing their limits as the extent of state power.

We do not hold, as Mr. Justice BreNNAN intimates, that all States other than Oregon must now enact new obscenity statutes. Other existing state statutes, as construed heretofore or hereafter, may well be adequate. See United States v. 12 200-ft. Reels of Film, post, at 130 n. 7.

7

“A quotation from Voltaire in the flyleaf of a book will not constitutionally redeem an otherwise obscene publication . . . .” Kois v. Wisconsin, 408 U. S. 229, 231 (1972). See Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U. S. 413, 461 (1966) (White, J., dissenting). We also reject, as a constitutional standard, the ambiguous concept of “social importance.” See id., at 462 (White, J., dissenting).

8

Although we are not presented here with the problem of regulating lewd public conduct itself, the States have greater power to regulate nonverbal, physical conduct than to suppress depictions or descriptions of the same behavior. In United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367, 377 (1968), a case not dealing with obscenity, the Court held a State regulation of conduct which itself embodied both speech and nonspeech elements to be “sufficiently justified if . . . it furthers an important or substantial governmental interest; if the governmental interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression; and if the incidental restriction on alleged First Amendment freedoms is no greater than is essential to the furtherance of that interest.” See California v. LaRue, 409 U. S. 109, 117-118 (1972).

9

The mere fact juries may reach different conclusions as to the same material does not mean that constitutional rights are abridged. As this Court observed in Roth v. United States, 354 U. S., at 492 n. 30, “it is common experience that different juries may reach different results under any criminal statute. That is one of the consequences we accept under our jury system. Cf. Dunlop v. United States, 165 U. S. 486, 499-500.”

10

As Mr. Justice BreNNAN stated for the Court in Roth v. United States, supra, at 491-492:

“Many decisions have recognized that these terms of obscenity statutes are not precise. [Footnote omitted.] This Court, however, has consistently held that lack of precision is not itself offensive to the requirements of due process. ‘. . . [T]he Constitution does not require impossible standards’; all that is required is that the *28language 'conveys sufficiently definite warning as to the proscribed conduct when measured by common understanding and practices. . . United States v. Petrillo, 332 U. S. 1, 7-8. These words, applied according to the proper standard for judging obscenity, already discussed, give adequate warning of the conduct proscribed and mark '. . . boundaries sufficiently distinct for judges and juries fairly to administer the law .... That there may be marginal cases in which it is difficult to determine the side of the line on which a particular fact situation falls is no sufficient reason to hold the language too ambiguous to define a criminal offense. . . .’ Id., at 7. See also United States v. Harriss, 347 U. S. 612, 624, n. 15; Boyce Motor Lines, Inc. v. United States, 342 U. S. 337, 340; United States v. Ragen, 314 U. S. 513, 523-524; United States v. Wurzbach, 280 U. S. 396; Hygrade Provision Co. v. Sherman, 266 U. S. 497; Fox v. Washington, 236 U. S. 273; Nash v. United States, 229 U. S. 373.”

11

We must note, in addition, that any assumption concerning the relative burdens of the past and the probable burden under the standards now adopted is pure speculation.

12

The record simply does not support appellant’s contention, belatedly raised on appeal, that the State’s expert was unqualified to give evidence on California “community standards.” The expert, a police officer with many years of specialization in obscenity offenses, had conducted an extensive statewide survey and had given expert evidence on 26 occasions in the year prior to this trial. Allowing such expert testimony was certainly not constitutional error. Cf. United States v. Augenblick, 393 U. S. 348, 356 (1969).

13

In Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184 (1964), two Justices argued that application of “local” community standards would run the risk of preventing dissemination of materials in some places because sellers would be unwilling to risk criminal conviction by testing variations in standards from place to place. Id., at 193-195 (opinion of BRENNAN, J., joined by Goldberg, J.). The use of “national” standards, however, necessarily implies that materials found tolerable in some places, but not under the “national” criteria, will nevertheless be unavailable where they are acceptable. Thus, in terms of danger to free expression, the potential for suppression seems at least as great in the application of a single nationwide standard as in allowing distribution in accordance with local tastes, a point which Mr. Justice Harlan often emphasized. See Roth v. United States, 354 U. S., at 506.

Appellant also argues that adherence to a “national standard” is necessary “in order to avoid unconscionable burdens on the free flow of interstate commerce.” As noted supra, at 18 n. 1, the application of domestic state police powers in this case did not intrude on any congressional powers under Art. I, § 8, cl. 3, for there is no indication that appellant's materials were ever distributed interstate. Appellant’s argument would appear without substance in any event. Obscene material may be validly regulated by a State in the exercise of its traditional local power to protect the *33general welfare of its population despite some possible incidental effect on the flow of such materials across state lines. See, e. g., Head v. New Mexico Board, 374 U. S. 424 (1963); Huron Portland Cement Co. v. Detroit, 362 U. S. 440 (1960); Breard v. Alexandria, 341 U. S. 622 (1951); H. P. Hood & Sons v. Du Mond, 336 U. S. 525 (1949); Southern Pacific Co. v. Arizona, 325 U. S. 761 (1945); Baldwin v. G. A. F. Seelig, Inc., 294 U. S. 511 (1935); Sligh v. Kirkwood, 237 U. S. 52 (1915).

14

Appellant’s jurisdictional statement contends that he was subjected to “double jeopardy” because a Los Angeles County trial judge dismissed, before trial, a prior prosecution based on the same brochures, but apparently alleging exposures at a different time in a different setting. Appellant argues that once material has been found not to be obscene in one proceeding, the State is “collaterally estopped” from ever alleging it to be obscene in a different proceeding. It is not clear from the record that appellant properly raised this issue, better regarded as a question of procedural due process than a “double jeopardy” claim, in the state courts below. Appellant failed to address any portion of his brief on the merits to this issue, and appellee contends that the question was waived under California law because it was improperly pleaded at trial. Nor is it totally clear from the record before us what collateral effect the pretrial dismissal might have under state law. The dismissal was based, at least in part, on a failure of the prosecution to present affirmative evidence required by state law, evidence which was apparently presented in this case. Appellant’s contention, therefore, is best left to the California courts for further consideration on remand. The issue is not, in any event, a proper subject for appeal. See Mishkin v. New York, 383 U. S. 502, 512-514 (1966).

15

In the apt words of Mr. Chief Justice Warren, appellant in this case was “plainly engaged in the commercial exploitation of the morbid and shameful craving for materials with prurient effect. I believe that the State and Federal Governments can constitutionally punish such conduct. That is all that these cases present to us, and that is all we need to decide.” Roth v. United States, supra, at 496 (concurring opinion).

16

See 2 Y. Parrington, Main Currents in American Thought ix et seq. (1930). As to the latter part of the 19th century, Parring-ton observed “A new age had come and other dreams — the age and the dreams of a middle-class sovereignty .... From the crude and vast romanticisms of that vigorous sovereignty emerged eventually a spirit of realistic criticism, seeking to evaluate the worth of this new America, and discover if possible other philosophies to take the place of those which had gone down in the fierce battles of the Civil War.” Id., at 474. Cf. 2 S. Morison, H. Commager & W. Leuchtenburg, The Growth of the American Republic 197-233 (6th ed. 1969); Paths of American Thought 123-166, 203-290 (A. Schlesinger & M. White ed. 1963) (articles of Fleming, Lerner, Morton & Lucia White, E. Rostow, Samuelson, Kazin, Hofstadter); and H. Wish, Society and Thought in Modern America 337-386 (1952).

17

"[W]e have indicated . . . that because of its strong and abiding interest in youth, a State may regulate the dissemination to juveniles of, and their access to, material objectionable as to them, but which a State clearly could not regulate as to adults. Ginsberg v. New York, . . . [390 U. S. 629 (1968)].” Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U. S. 676, 690 (1968) (footnote omitted).

Mr. Justice Douglas,

dissenting.

I

Today we leave open the way for California1 to send a man to prison for distributing brochures that advertise books and a movie under freshly written standards defining obscenity which until today’s decision were never the part of any law.

The Court has worked hard to define obscenity and con-cededly has failed. In Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, it ruled that “[o]bscene material is material which deals with sex in a manner appealing to prurient interest.” Id., at 487. Obscenity, it was said, was rejected by the First Amendment because it is “utterly without redeem*38ing social importance.” Id., at 484. The presence of a “prurient interest” was to be determined by “contemporary community standards.” Id., at 489. That test, it has been said, could not be determined by one standard here and another standard there, Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 194, but “on the basis of a national standard.” Id., at 195. My Brother Stewart in Jacobellis commented that the difficulty of the Court in giving content to obscenity was that it was “faced with the task of trying to define what may be indefinable.” Id., at 197.

In Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U. S. 413, 418, the Both test was elaborated to read as follows: “[T]hree elements must coalesce: it must be established that (a) the dominant theme of the material taken as a whole appeals to a prurient interest in sex; (b) the material is patently offensive because it affronts contemporary community standards relating to the description or representation of sexual matters; and (c) the material is utterly without redeeming social value.”

In Ginzburg v. United States, 383 U. S. 463, a publisher was sent to prison, not for the kind of books and periodicals he sold, but for the manner in which the publications were advertised. The “leer of the sensualist” was said to permeate the advertisements. Id., at 468. The Court said, “Where the purveyor’s sole emphasis is on the sexually provocative aspects of his publications, that fact may be decisive in the determination of obscenity.” Id., at 470. As Mr. Justice Black said in dissent, “. . . Ginzburg ... is now finally and authoritatively condemned to serve five years in prison for distributing printed matter about sex which neither Ginzburg nor anyone else could possibly have known to be criminal.” Id., at 476. That observation by Mr. Justice Black is underlined by the fact that the Ginzburg decision was five to four.

*39A further refinement was added by Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629, 641, where the Court held that “it was not irrational for the legislature to find that exposure to material condemned by the statute is harmful to minors.”

But even those members of this Court who had created the new and changing standards of “obscenity” could not agree on their application. And so we adopted a per curiam treatment of so-called obscene publications that seemed to pass constitutional muster under the several constitutional tests which had been formulated. See Redrup v. New York, 386 U. S. 767. Some condemn it if its “dominant tendency might be to ‘deprave or corrupt’ a reader.” 2 Others look not to the content of the book but to whether it is advertised “ ‘to appeal to the erotic interests of customers.’ ”3 Some condemn only “hardcore pornography”; but even then a true definition is lacking. It has indeed been said of that definition, “I could never succeed in [defining it] intelligibly,” but “I know it when I see it.” 4

Today we would add a new three-pronged test: “(a) whether ‘the average person, applying contemporary community standards’ would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest, ... (b) whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law, and (e) whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.”

Those are the standards we ourselves have written into the Constitution.5 Yet how under these vague tests can *40we sustain convictions for the sale of an article prior to the time when some court has declared it to be obscene?

Today the Court retreats from the earlier formulations of the constitutional test and undertakes to make new definitions. This effort, like the earlier ones, is earnest and well intentioned. The difficulty is that we do not deal with constitutional terms, since “obscenity” is not mentioned in the Constitution or Bill of Rights. And the First Amendment makes no such exception from “the press” which it undertakes to protect nor, as I have said on other occasions, is an exception necessarily implied, for there was no recognized exception to the free press at the time the Bill of Rights was adopted which treated “obscene” publications differently from other types of papers, magazines, and books. So there are no constitutional guidelines for deciding what is and what is not “obscene.” The Court is at large because we deal with tastes and standards of literature. What shocks me may *41be sustenance for my neighbor. What causes one person to boil up in rage over one pamphlet or movie may reflect only his neurosis, not shared by others. We deal here with a regime of censorship which, if adopted, should be done by constitutional amendment after full debate by the people.

Obscenity cases usually generate tremendous emotional outbursts. They have no business being in the courts. If a constitutional amendment authorized censorship, the censor would probably be an administrative agency. Then criminal prosecutions could follow as, if, and when publishers defied the censor and sold their literature. Under that regime a publisher would know when he was on dangerous ground. Under the present regime— whether the old standards or the new ones are used — the criminal law becomes a trap. A brand new test would put a publisher behind bars under a new law improvised by the courts after the publication. That was done in Ginzburg and has all the evils of an ex post jacto law.

My contention is that until a civil proceeding has placed a tract beyond the pale, no criminal prosecution should be sustained. For no more vivid illustration of vague and uncertain laws could be designed than those we have fashioned. As Mr. Justice Harlan has said:

“The upshot of all this divergence in viewpoint is that anyone who undertakes to examine the Court's decisions since Roth which have held particular material obscene or not obscene would find himself in utter bewilderment.” Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U. S. 676, 707.

In Bouie v. City of Columbia, 378 U. S. 347, we upset a conviction for remaining on property after being asked to leave, while the only unlawful act charged by the statute was entering. We held that the defendants had received no “fair warning, at the time of their con*42duct” while on the property “that the act for which they now stand convicted was rendered criminal” by the state statute. Id., at 355. The same requirement of “fair warning” is due here, as much as in Bouie. The latter involved racial discrimination; the present case involves rights earnestly urged as being protected by the First Amendment. In any case — certainly when constitutional rights are concerned — we should not allow men to go to prison or be fined when they had no “fair warning” that what they did was criminal conduct.

II

If a specific book, play, paper, or motion picture has in a civil proceeding been condemned as obscene and review of that finding has been completed, and thereafter a person publishes, shows, or displays that particular book or film, then a vague law has been made specific. There would remain the underlying question whether the First Amendment allows an implied exception in the case of obscenity. I do not think it does 6 and my views *43on the issue have been stated over and over again.7 But at least a criminal prosecution brought at that juncture would not violate the time-honored void-for-vagueness test.8

No such protective procedure has been designed by-California in this case. Obscenity — which even we cannot define with precision — is a hodge-podge. To send *44men to jail for violating standards they cannot understand, construe, and apply is a monstrous thing to do in a Nation dedicated to fair trials and due process.

Ill

While the right to know is the corollary of the right to speak or publish, no one can be forced by government to listen to disclosure that he finds offensive. That was the basis of my dissent in Public Utilities Comm’n v. Pollak, 343 U. S. 451, 467, where I protested against making streetcar passengers a "captive” audience. There is no “captive audience” problem in these obscenity cases. No one is being compelled to look or to listen. Those who enter newsstands or bookstalls may be offended by what they see. But they are not compelled by the State to frequent those places; and it is only state or governmental action against which the First Amendment, applicable to the States by virtue of the Fourteenth, raises a ban.

The idea that the First Amendment permits government to ban publications that are “offensive” to some people puts an ominous gloss on freedom of the press. That test would make it possible to ban any paper or any journal or magazine in some benighted place. The First Amendment was designed "to invite dispute,” to induce “a condition of unrest,” to “create dissatisfaction with conditions as they are,” and even to stir “people to anger.” Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U. S. 1, 4. The idea that the First Amendment permits punishment for ideas that are “offensive” to the particular judge or jury sitting in judgment is astounding. No greater leveler of speech or literature has ever been designed. To give the power to the censor, as we do today, is to make a sharp and radical break with the traditions of a free society. The First- Amendment was not fashioned as a vehicle for *45dispensing tranquilizers to the people. Its prime function was to keep debate open to “offensive” as well as to “staid” people. The tendency throughout history has been to subdue the individual and to exalt the power of government. The use of the standard “offensive” gives authority to government that cuts the very vitals out of the First Amendment.9 As is intimated by the Court’s opinion, the materials before us may be garbage. But so is much of what is said in political campaigns, in the daily press, on TV, or over the radio. By reason of the First Amendment — and solely because of it — • speakers and publishers have not been threatened or subdued because their thoughts and ideas may be “offensive” to some.

The standard “offensive” is unconstitutional in yet another way. In Coates v. City of Cincinnati, 402 U. S. 611, we had before us a municipal ordinance that made it a crime for three or more persons to assemble on a street and conduct themselves “in a manner annoying to persons *46passing by.” We struck it down, saying: “If three or more people meet together on a sidewalk or street corner, they must conduct themselves so as not to annoy any police officer or other person who should happen to pass by. In our opinion this ordinance is unconstitutionally vague because it subjects the exercise of the right of assembly to an unascertainable standard, and unconstitutionally broad because it authorizes the punishment of constitutionally protected conduct.

“Conduct that annoys some people does not annoy others. Thus, the ordinance is vague, not in the sense that it requires a person to conform his conduct to an imprecise but comprehensive normative standard, but rather in the sense that no standard of conduct is specified at all.” Id., at 614.

How we can deny Ohio the convenience of punishing people who “annoy” others and allow California power to punish people who publish materials “offensive” to some people is difficult to square with constitutional requirements.

If there are to be restraints on what is obscene, then a constitutional amendment should be the way of achieving the end. There are societies where religion and mathematics are the only free segments. It would be a dark day for America if that were our destiny. But the people can make it such if they choose to write obscenity into the Constitution and define it.

We deal with highly emotional, not rational, questions. To many the Song of Solomon is obscene. I do not think we, the judges, were ever given the constitutional power to make definitions of obscenity. If it is to be defined, let the people debate and decide by a constitutional amendment what they want to ban as obscene and what standards they want the legislatures and the courts to apply. Perhaps the people will decide that the path towards a mature, integrated society requires *47that all ideas competing for acceptance must have no censor. Perhaps they- will decide otherwise. Whatever the choice, the courts will have some guidelines. Now we have none except our own predilections.

1

California defines “obscene matter” as “matter, taken as a whole, the predominant appeal of which to the average person, applying contemporary standards, is to prurient interest, i. e., a shameful or morbid interest in nudity, sex, or excretion; and is matter which taken as a whole goes substantially beyond customary limits of candor in description or representation of such matters; and is matter which taken as a whole is utterly without redeeming social importance.” Calif. Penal Code § 311 (a).

2

Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, 502 (opinion of Harlan, J.).

3

Ginzburg v. United States, 383 U. S. 463, 467.

4

Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 197 (Stewart, J., concurring).

5

At the conclusion of a two-year study, the U. S. Commission on *40Obscenity and Pornography determined that the standards we have written interfere with constitutionally protected materials:

“Society’s attempts to legislate for adults in the area of obscenity have not been successful. Present laws prohibiting the consensual sale or distribution of explicit sexual materials to adults are extremely unsatisfactory in their practical application. The Constitution permits material to be deemed ‘obscene’ for adults only if, as a whole, it appeals to the ‘prurient’ interest of the average person, is ‘patently offensive’ in light of ‘community standards,’ and lacks ‘redeeming social value.’ These vague and highly subjective aesthetic, psychological and moral tests do not provide meaningful guidance for law enforcement officials, juries or courts. As a result, law is inconsistently and sometimes erroneously applied and the distinctions made by courts between prohibited and permissible materials often appear indefensible. Errors in the application of the law and uncertainty about its scope also cause interference with the communication of constitutionally protected materials.” Report of the Commission on Obscenity and Pornography 53 (1970).

6

It is said that “obscene” publications can be banned on authority of restraints on communications incident to decrees restraining unlawful business monopolies or unlawful restraints of trade, Sugar Institute v. United States, 297 U. S. 553, 597, or communications respecting the sale of spurious or fraudulent securities. Hall v. Geiger-Jones Co., 242 U. S. 539, 549; Caldwell v. Sioux Falls Stock Yards Co., 242 U. S. 559, 567; Merrick v. Halsey & Co., 242 U. S. 568, 584. The First Amendment answer is that whenever speech and conduct are brigaded — as they are when one shouts “Fire” in a crowded theater — speech can be outlawed. Mr. Justice Black, writing for a unanimous Court in Giboney v. Empire Storage Co., 336 U. S. 490, stated that labor unions could be restrained from picketing a firm in support of a secondary boycott which a State had validly outlawed. Mr. Justice Black said: "It rarely has been suggested that the constitutional freedom for speech and press extends its immunity to speech or writing used as an integral part of conduct in violation of a valid criminal statute. We reject the contention now.” Id., at 498.

7

See United States v. 12 200-ft. Reels of Film, post, p. 123; United States v. Orito, post, p. 139; Kois v. Wisconsin, 408 U. S. 229; Byrne v. Karalexis, 396 U. S. 976, 977; Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629, 650; Jacobs v. New York, 388 U. S. 431, 436; Ginzburg v. United States, 383 U. S. 463, 482; Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U. S. 413, 424; Bantam Books, Inc. v. Sullivan, 372 U. S. 58, 72; Times Film Corp. v. Chicago, 365 U. S. 43, 78; Smith v. California, 361 U. S. 147, 167; Kingsley Pictures Corp. v. Regents, 360 U. S. 684, 697; Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, 508; Kings-ley Books, Inc. v. Brown, 354 U. S. 436, 446; Superior Films, Inc. v. Department of Education, 346 U. S. 587, 588; Gelling v. Texas, 343 U. S. 960.

8

The Commission on Obscenity and Pornography has advocated such a procedure:

“The Commission recommends the enactment, in all jurisdictions which enact or retain provisions prohibiting the dissemination of sexual materials to adults or young persons, of legislation authorizing prosecutors to obtain declaratory judgments as to whether particular materials fall within existing legal prohibitions ....
“A declaratory judgment procedure . . . would permit prosecutors to proceed civilly, rather than through the criminal process, against suspected violations of obscenity prohibition. If such civil procedures are utilized, penalties would be imposed for violation of the law only with respect to conduct occurring after a civil declaration is obtained. The Commission believes this course of action to be appropriate whenever there is any existing doubt regarding the' legal status of materials; where other alternatives are available, the criminal process should not ordinarily be invoiced against persons who might have reasonably believed, in good faith, that the books or films they distributed were entitled to constitutional protection, for the threat of criminal sanctions might otherwise deter the free distribution of constitutionally protected material.” Report of the Commission on Obscenity and Pornography 63 (1970).

9

Obscenity law has had a capricious history:

“The white slave traffic was first exposed by W. T. Stead in a magazine article, ‘The Maiden Tribute.’ The English law did absolutely nothing to the profiteers in vice, but put Stead in prison for a year for writing about an indecent subject. When the law supplies no definite standard of criminality, a judge in deciding what is indecent or profane may consciously disregard the sound test of present injury, and proceeding upon an entirely different theory may condemn the defendant because his words express ideas which are thought liable to cause bad future consequences. Thus musical comedies enjoy almost unbridled license, while a problem play is often forbidden because opposed to our views of marriage. In the same way, the law of blasphemy has been used against Shelley’s Queen Mab and the decorous promulgation of pantheistic ideas, on the ground that to attack religion is to loosen the bonds of society and endanger the state. This is simply a roundabout modern méthod to make heterodoxy in sex matters and even in religion a crime.” Z. Chafee, Free Speech in the United States 151 (1942).

Me. Justice Brennan,

with whom Mr. Justice Stewart and Mr. Justice Marshall join, dissenting.

In my dissent in Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, post, p. 73, decided this date, I noted that I had no occasion to consider the extent of state power to regulate the distribution of sexually oriented material to juveniles or .the offensive exposure of such material to unconsenting adults. In the case before us, appellant was convicted of distributing obscene matter in violation of California Penal Code § 311.2, on the basis of evidence that he had caused to be mailed unsolicited brochures advertising various books and a movie. I need not now decide whether a statute might be drawn to impose, within the requirements of the First Amendment, criminal penalties for the precise conduct at issue here. For it is clear that under my dissent in Paris Adult Theatre I, the statute under which the prosecution was brought is unconstitutionally overbroad, and therefore invalid on its face.* “[T]he transcendent value to all society of constitutionally protected expression is deemed to justify allowing ‘attacks on overly broad statutes with no requirement that the person making the attack demonstrate that his own conduct could not be regulated by a statute drawn with the requisite narrow specificity.’ ” Gooding v. Wilson, 405 U. S. 518, 521 (1972), quoting *48from Dombrowski v. Pfister, 380 U. S. 479, 486 (1965). See also Baggett v. Bullitt, 377 U. S. 360, 366 (1964); Coates v. City of Cincinnati, 402 U. S. 611, 616 (1971); id., at 619-620 (White, J., dissenting); United States v. Raines, 362 U. S. 17, 21-22 (1960); NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433 (1963). Since my view in Paris Adult Theatre I represents a substantial departure from the course of our prior decisions, and since the state courts have as yet had no opportunity to consider whether a “readily apparent construction suggests itself as a vehicle for rehabilitating the [statute] in a single prosecution,” Dombrowski v. Pfister, supra, at 491, I would reverse the judgment of the Appellate Department of the Superior Court and remand the case for proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion. See Coates v. City of Cincinnati, supra, at 616.

*

Cal. Penal Code § 311.2 (a) provides that “Every person who knowingly: sends or causes to be sent, or brings or causes to be brought, into this state for sale or distribution, or in this state prepares, publishes, prints, exhibits, distributes, or offers to distribute, or has in his possession with intent to distribute or to exhibit or offer to distribute, any obscene matter is guilty of a misdemeanor.”

15.22 Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc. 15.22 Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc.

GERTZ v. ROBERT WELCH, Inc.

No. 72-617.

Argued November 14, 1973

Decided June 25, 1974

*325Wayne B. Giampietro argued the cause and filed briefs for petitioner.

Clyde J. Watts argued the cause and filed a brief for respondent.

Mr. Justice Powell

delivered the opinion of the Court.

This Court has struggled for nearly a decade to define the proper accommodation between the law of defamation and the freedoms of speech and press protected by the First Amendment. With this decision we return to that effort. We granted certiorari to reconsider the extent of a publisher’s constitutional privilege against liability for defamation of a private citizen. 410 U. S. 925 (1973).

I

In 1968 a Chicago policeman named Nuccio shot and killed a youth named Nelson. The state authorities prosecuted Nuccio for the homicide and ultimately obtained a conviction for murder in the second degree. The Nelson family retained petitioner Elmer Gertz, a reputable attorney, to represent them in civil litigation against Nuccio.

Respondent publishes American Opinion, a monthly outlet for the views of the John Birch Society. Early in the 1960’s the magazine began to warn of a nationwide conspiracy to discredit local law enforcement agencies and create in their stead a national police force capable of supporting a Communist dictatorship. As part of the continuing effort to alert the public to this assumed danger, the managing editor of American Opinion commissioned an article on the murder trial of Officer Nuccio. For this purpose he engaged a regular contributor to the magazine. In March 1969 respondent published the resulting article under the title “FRAME-UP: Richard *326Nuccio And The War On Police.” The article purports to demonstrate that the testimony against Nuccio at his criminal trial was false and that his prosecution was part of the Communist campaign against the police.

In his capacity as counsel for the Nelson family in the civil litigation, petitioner attended the coroner’s inquest into the boy’s death and initiated actions for damages,'but he neither discussed Officer Nuccio with the press nor played any part in the criminal proceeding. Notwithstanding petitioner’s remote connection with the prosecution of Nuccio, respondent’s magazine portrayed him as an architect of the “frame-up.” According to the article, the police file on petitioner took “a big, Irish cop to lift.” The article stated that petitioner had been an official of the “Marxist League for Industrial Democracy, originally known as the Intercollegiate Socialist Society, which has advocated the violent seizure of our government.” It labeled Gertz a “Leninist” and a “Communist-fronter.” It also stated that Gertz had been an officer of the National Lawyers Guild, described as a Communist organization that “probably did more than any other outfit to plan the Communist attack on the Chicago police during the 1968 Democratic Convention.”

These statements contained serious inaccuracies. The implication that petitioner had a criminal record was false. Petitioner had been a member and officer of the National Lawyers Guild some 15 years earlier, but there was no evidence that he or that organization had taken any part in planning the 1968 demonstrations in Chicago. There was also no basis for the charge that petitioner was a “Leninist” or a “Communist-fronter.” And he had never been a member of the “Marxist League for Industrial Democracy” or the “Intercollegiate Socialist Society.”

*327The managing editor of American Opinion made no effort to verify or substantiate the charges against petitioner. Instead, he appended an editorial introduction stating that the author had “conducted extensive research into the Richard Nuccio Case.” And he included in the article a photograph of petitioner and wrote the caption that appeared under it: “Elmer Gertz of Red Guild harrasses Nuccio.” Respondent placed the issue of American Opinion containing the article on sale at newsstands throughout the country and distributed reprints of the article on the streets of Chicago.

Petitioner filed a diversity action for libel in the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois. He claimed that the falsehoods published by respondent injured his reputation as a lawyer and a citizen. Before filing an answer, respondent moved to dismiss the complaint for failure to state a claim upon which relief could be granted, apparently on the ground that petitioner failed to allege special damages. But the court ruled that statements contained in the article constituted libel per se under Illinois law and that consequently petitioner need not plead special damages. 306 F. Supp. 310 (1969).

After answering the complaint, respondent filed a pretrial motion for summary judgment, claiming a constitutional privilege against liability for defamation.1 It asserted that petitioner was a public official or a public figure and that the article concerned an issue of public interest and concern. For these reasons, respondent argued, it was entitled to invoke the privilege enunciated in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964). Under this rule respondent would escape liability unless *328petitioner could prove publication of defamatory falsehood “with ‘actual malice’ — that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.” Id., at 280. Respondent claimed that petitioner could not make such a showing and submitted a supporting affidavit by the magazine’s managing editor. The editor denied any knowledge of the falsity of the statements concerning petitioner and stated that he had relied on the author’s reputation and on his prior experience with the accuracy and authenticity of the author’s contributions to American Opinion.

The District Court denied respondent’s motion for summary judgment in a memorandum opinion of September 16, 1970. The court did not dispute respondent’s claim to the protection of the New York Times standard. Rather, it concluded that petitioner might overcome the constitutional privilege by making a factual showing sufficient to prove publication of defamatory falsehood in reckless disregard of the truth. During the course of the trial, however, it became clear that the trial court had not accepted all of respondent’s asserted grounds for applying the New York Times rule to this case. It thought that respondent’s claim to the protection of the constitutional privilege depended on the contention that petitioner was either a public official under the New York Times decision or a public figure under Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S. 130 (1967), apparently discounting the argument that a privilege would arise from the presence of a public issue. After all the evidence had been presented but before submission of the case to the jury, the court ruled in effect that petitioner was neither a public official nor a public figure. It added that, if he were, the resulting application of the New York Times standard would require a directed verdict for respondent. Because some statements in the article constituted libel per se *329under Illinois law, the court submitted the case to the jury under instructions that withdrew from its consideration all issues save the measure of damages. The jury awarded $50,000 to petitioner.

Following the jury verdict and on further reflection, the District Court concluded that the New York Times standard should govern this case even though petitioner was not a public official or public figure. It accepted respondent’s contention that that privilege protected discussion of any public issue without regard to the status of a person defamed therein. Accordingly, the court entered judgment for respondent notwithstanding the jury’s verdict.2 This conclusion anticipated the reason*330ing of a plurality of this Court in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29 (1971).

Petitioner appealed to contest the applicability of the New York Times standard to this case. Although the Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit doubted the correctness of the District Court’s determination that petitioner was not a public figure, it did not overturn that finding.3 It agreed with the District Court that respondent could assert the constitutional privilege because the article concerned a matter of public interest, citing this Court’s intervening decision in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., supra. The Court of Appeals read Rosenbloom to require application of the New York Times standard to any publication or broadcast about an issue of significant public interest, without regard to the position, fame, or anonymity of the person defamed, and it concluded that respondent’s statements *331concerned such an issue.4 After reviewing the record, the Court of Appeals endorsed the District Court’s conclusion that petitioner had failed to show by clear and *332convincing evidence that respondent had acted with “actual malice” as defined by New York Times. There was no evidence that the managing editor of American Opinion knew of the falsity of the accusations made in the article. In fact, he knew nothing about petitioner except what he learned from the article. The court correctly noted that mere proof of failure to investigate, without more, cannot establish reckless disregard for the truth. Rather, the publisher must act with a “ 'high degree of awareness of . . . probable falsity.’ ” St. Amant v. Thompson, 390 U. S. 727, 731 (1968); accord, Beck-ley Newspapers Corp. v. Hanks, 389 U. S. 81, 84-85 (1967); Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 75-76 (1964). The evidence in this case did not reveal that respondent had cause for such an awareness. The Court of Appeals therefore affirmed, 471 F. 2d 801 (1972). For the reasons stated below, we reverse.

II

The principal issue in this case is whether a newspaper or broadcaster that publishes defamatory falsehoods about an individual who is neither a public official nor a public figure may claim a constitutional privilege against liability for the injury inflicted by those statements. The Court considered this question on the rather different set of facts presented in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29 (1971). Rosenbloom, a distributor of nudist magazines, was arrested for selling allegedly obscene material while mak*333ing a delivery to a retail dealer. The police obtained a warrant and seized his entire inventory of 3,000 books and magazines. He sought and obtained an injunction prohibiting further police interference with his business. He then sued a local radio station for failing to note in two of its newscasts that the 3,000 items seized were only “reportedly” or “allegedly” obscene and for broadcasting references to “the smut literature racket” and to “girlie-book peddlers” in its coverage of the court proceeding for injunctive relief. He obtained a judgment against the radio station, but the Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit held the New York Times privilege applicable to the broadcast and reversed. 415 F. 2d 892 (1969).

This Court affirmed the decision below, but no majority could agree on a controlling rationale. The eight Justices5 who participated in Rosenbloom announced their views in five separate opinions, none of which commanded more than three votes. The several statements not only reveal disagreement about the appropriate result in that case, they also reflect divergent traditions of thought about the general problem of reconciling the law of defamation with the First Amendment. One approach has been to extend the New York Times test to an expanding variety of situations. Another has been to vary the level of constitutional privilege for defamatory falsehood with the status of the person defamed. And a third view would grant to the press and broadcast media absolute immunity from liability for defamation. To place our holding in the proper context, we preface our discussion of this case with a review of the several Rosenbloom opinions and their antecedents.

In affirming the trial court’s judgment in the instant case, the Court of Appeals relied on Mr. Justice Bren*334nan’s conclusion for the Rosenbloom plurality that “all discussion and communication involving matters of public or general concern,” 403 U. S., at 44, warrant the protection from liability for defamation accorded by the rule originally enunciated in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964). There this Court defined a constitutional privilege intended to free criticism of public officials from the restraints imposed by the common law of defamation. The Times ran a political advertisement endorsing civil rights demonstrations by black students in Alabama and impliedly condemning the performance of local law-enforcement officials. A police commissioner established in state court that certain misstatements in the advertisement referred to him and that they constituted libel per se under Alabama law. This showing left the Times with the single defense of truth, for under Alabama law neither good faith nor reasonable care would protect the newspaper from liability. This Court concluded that a “rule compelling the critic of official conduct to guarantee the truth of all his factual assertions” would deter protected speech, id., at 279, and announced the constitutional privilege designed to counter that effect:

“The constitutional guarantees require, we think, a federal rule that prohibits a public official from recovering damages for a defamatory falsehood relating to his official conduct unless he proves that the statement was made with ‘actual malice’ — that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.” Id., at 279-280.6

*335Three years after New York Times, a majority of the Court agreed to extend the constitutional privilege to defamatory criticism of “public figures.” This extension *336was announced in Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts and its companion, Associated Press v. Walker, 388 U. S. 130, 162 (1967). The first case involved the Saturday Evening Post’s charge that Coach Wally Butts of the University of Georgia had conspired with Coach “Bear” Bryant of the University of Alabama to fix a football game between their respective schools. Walker involved an erroneous' Associated Press account of former Major General Edwin Walker’s participation in a University of Mississippi campus riot. Because Butts was paid by a private alumni association and Walker had resigned from the Army, neither could be classified as a “public official” under New York Times. Although Mr. Justice Harlan announced the result in both cases, a majority of the Court agreed with Mr. Chief Justice Warren’s conclusion that the New York Times test should apply to criticism of “public figures” as well as “public officials.” 7 The Court extended the con*337stitutional privilege announced in that case to protect defamatory criticism of nonpublic persons who “are nevertheless intimately involved in the resolution of important public questions or, by reason of their fame, shape events in areas of concern to society at large.” Id., at 164 (Warren, C. J., concurring in result).

In his opinion for the plurality in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29 (1971), Mr. Justice Brennan took the New York Times privilege one step further. He concluded that its protection should extend to defamatory falsehoods relating to private persons if the statements concerned matters of general or public interest. He abjured the suggested distinction between public officials and public figures on the one hand and private individuals on the other. He focused instead on society's interest in learning about certain issues: “If a matter is a subject of public or general interest, it cannot suddenly become less so merely because a private individual is involved, or because in some sense the individual did not ‘voluntarily’ choose to become involved.” Id., at 43. Thus, under the plurality opinion, a private citizen involuntarily associated with a matter of general interest has no recourse for injury to his reputation unless he can satisfy the demanding requirements of the New York Times test.

Two Members of the Court concurred in the result in Rosenbloom but departed from the reasoning of the plurality. Mr. Justice Black restated his view, long shared by Mr. Justice Douglas, that the First Amendment cloaks the news media with an absolute and indefeasible immunity from liability for defamation. Id., at 67. Mr Justice White concurred on a narrower ground. Ibid. He concluded that “the First Amendment gives the press and the broadcast media a privilege to report and comment upon the official actions of public *338servants in full detail, with no requirement that the reputation or the privacy of an individual involved in or affected by the official action be spared from public view.” Id., at 62. He therefore declined to reach the broader questions addressed by the other Justices.

Mr. Justice Harlan dissented. Although he had joined the opinion of the Court in New York Times, in Curtis Publishing Co. he had contested the extension of the privilege to public figures. There he had argued that a public figure who held no governmental office should be allowed to recover damages for defamation “on a showing of highly unreasonable conduct constituting an extreme departure from the standards of investigation and reporting ordinarily adhered to by responsible publishers.” 388 U. S., at 155. In his Curtis Publishing Co. opinion Mr. Justice Harlan had distinguished New York Times primarily on the ground that defamation actions by public officials “lay close to seditious libel . . . .” Id., at 153. Recovery of damages by one who held no public office, however, could not “be viewed as a vindication of governmental policy.” Id., at 154. Additionally, he had intimated that, because most public officials enjoyed absolute immunity from liability for their own defamatory utterances under Barr v. Matteo, 360 U. S. 564 (1959), they lacked a strong claim to the protection of the courts.

In Rosenbloom Mr. Justice Harlan modified these views. He acquiesced in the application of the privilege to defamation of public figures but argued that a different rule should obtain where defamatory falsehood harmed a private individual. He noted that a' private person has less likelihood “of securing access to channels of communication sufficient to rebut falsehoods concerning him” than do public officials and public figures, 403 U. S., at 70, and has not voluntarily placed himself in the *339public spotlight. Mr. Justice Harlan concluded that the States could constitutionally allow private individuals to recover damages for defamation on the basis of any standard of care except liability without fault.

1

Petitioner filed a cross-motion for summary judgment on grounds not specified in the record. The court denied petitioner’s cross-motion without discussion in a memorandum opinion of September 16, 1970.

2

322 F. Supp. 997 (1970). .Petitioner asserts that the entry of judgment n. o. v. on the basis of his failure to show-knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard for the truth constituted unfair surprise and deprived him of a full and fair opportunity to prove “actual malice” on the part of respondent. This contention is not supported by the record. It is clear that the trial court gave petitioner no reason to assume that the New York Times privilege would not be available to respondent. The court’s memorandum opinion denying respondent’s pretrial motion for summary judgment does not state that the New York Times standard was inapplicable to this case. Rather, it reveals that the trial judge thought it possible for petitioner to make a factual showing sufficient to overcome respondent’s claim of constitutional privilege. It states in part:

“When there is a factual dispute as to the existence of actual malice, summary judgment is improper.
“In the instant case a jury might infer from the evidence that [respondent’s] failure to investigate the truth of the allegations, coupled with its receipt of communications challenging the factual accuracy of this author in the past, amounted to actual malice, that is, ‘reckless disregard’ of whether the allegations were true or not. New York Times [Co.] v. Sullivan, [376 U. S. 264,] 279-280 [(1964)].” Mem. Op., Sept. 16, 1970.

Thus, petitioner knew or should have known that the outcome of the trial might hinge on his ability to show by clear and convincing *330evidence that respondent acted with reckless disregard for the truth. And this question remained open throughout the trial. Although the court initially concluded that the applicability of the New York Times rule depended on petitioner’s status as a public figure, the court did not decide that petitioner was not a public figure until all the evidence had been presented. Thus petitioner had every opportunity, indeed incentive, to prove “reckless disregard” if he could, and he in fact attempted to do so. The record supports the observation by the Court of Appeals that petitioner “did present evidence of malice (both the 'constitutional’ and the ‘ill will’ type) to support his damage claim and no such evidence was excluded ... .” 471 F. 2d 801, 807 n. 15 (1972).

3

The court stated:

“[Petitioner’s] considerable stature as a lawyer, author, lecturer, and participant in matters of public import undermine[s] the validity of the assumption that he is not a ‘public figure’ as that term has been used by the progeny of New York Times. Nevertheless, for purposes of decision we make that assumption and test the availability of the claim of privilege by the subject matter of the article.” Id., at 805.

4

In the Court of Appeals petitioner made an ingenious but unavailing attempt to show that respondent’s defamatory charge against him concerned no issue of public or general interest. He asserted that the subject matter of the article was the murder trial of Officer Nuccio and that he did not participate in that proceeding. Therefore, he argued, even if the subject matter of the article generally were protected by the New York Times privilege, under the opinion of the Bosenbloom plurality, the defamatory statements about him were not. The Court of Appeals rejected this argument. It noted that the accusations against petitioner played an integral part in respondent’s general thesis of a nationwide conspiracy to harass the police:

“[W]e may also assume that the article’s basic thesis is false. Nevertheless, under the reasoning of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, even a false statement of fact' made in support of a false thesis is protected unless made with knowledge of its falsity or with reckless disregard of its truth or falsity. It would undermine the rule of that case to permit the actual falsity of a statement to determine whether or not its publisher is entitled to the benefit of the rule.
“If, therefore, we put to one side the false character of the article and treat it as though its contents were entirely true, it cannot be denied that the comments about [petitioner] were integral to its central thesis. They must be tested under the New York Times standard.” 471 F. 2d, at 806.

We think that the Court of Appeals correctly rejected petitioner’s argument. Its acceptance might lead to arbitrary imposition of liability on the basis of an unwise differentiation among kinds of factual misstatements. The present case illustrates the point. Respondent falsely portrayed petitioner as an architect of the criminal prosecution against Nuccio. On its face this inaccuracy does not appear defamatory. Respondent also falsely labeled petitioner a “Leninist” and a “Communist-fronter.” These accusations are generally considered defamatory. Under petitioner’s interpretation of the “public or general interest” test, respondent would have enjoyed a constitutional privilege to publish defamatory falsehood if petitioner had in fact been associated with the criminal prosecution. But this would mean that the seemingly innocuous mistake of con*332fusing petitioner's role in the litigation against Officer Nuccio would destroy the privilege otherwise available for calling petitioner a Communist-fronter. Thus respondent’s privilege to publish statements whose content should have alerted it to the danger of injury to reputation would hinge on the accuracy of statements that carried with them no such warning. Assuming that none of these statements was published with knowledge of falsity or with reckless disregard for the truth, we see no reason to distinguish among the inaccuracies.

5

Mr. Justice Douglas did not parteipate in the consideration or decision of Rosenbloom.

6

New York Times and later cases explicated the meaning of the new standard. In New York Times the Court held that under the circumstances the newspaper’s failure to check the accuracy of the advertisement against news stories in its own files did not establish *335reckless disregard for the truth. 376 U. S., at 287-288. In St. Amant v. Thompson, 390 U. S. 727, 731 (1968), the Court equated reckless disregard of the truth with subjective awareness of probable falsity: “There must be sufficient evidence to permit the conclusion that the defendant in fact entertained serious doubts as to the truth of his publication.” In Beckley Newspapers Corp. v. Hanks, 389 U. S. 81 (1967), the Court emphasized the distinction between the New York Times test of knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard of the truth and “actual malice” in the traditional sense of ill-will. Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64 (1964), made plain that the new standard applied to criminal libel laws as well as to civil actions and that it governed criticism directed at “anything which might touch on an official’s fitness for office.” Id., at 77. Finally, in Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, 85 (1966), the Court stated that “the ‘public official’ designation applies at the very least to those among the hierarchy of government employees who have, or appear to the public to have, substantial responsibility for or control over the conduct of governmental affairs.”

In Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374 (1967), the Court applied the New York Times standard to actions under an unusual state statute. The statute did not create a cause of action for libel. Rather, it provided a remedy for unwanted publicity. Although the law allowed recovery of damages for harm caused by exposure to public attention rather than by factual inaccuracies, it recognized truth as a complete defense. Thus, nondefamatory factual errors could render a publisher liable for something akin to invasion of privacy. The Court ruled that the defendant in such an action could invoke the New York Times privilege regardless of the fame or anonymity of the plaintiff. Speaking for the Court, Me. Justice BREnnan declared that this holding was not an extension of New York Times but rather a parallel fine of reasoning applying that standard to this discrete context:

“This is neither a libel action by a private individual nor a statutory action by a public official. Therefore, although the First Amendment principles pronounced in New York Times guide our conclusion, we reach that conclusion only by applying these principles in this discrete context. It therefore serves no purpose to distinguish the facts here from those in New York Times. Were this a libel action, the distinction which has been suggested be*336tween the relative opportunities of the public official and the private individual to rebut defamatory charges might be germane. And the additional state interest in the protection of the individual against damage to his reputation would be involved. Cf. Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, 91 (Stewart, J., concurring).” 385 U. S., at 390-391.

7

Professor Kalven once introduced a discussion of these eases with the apt heading, “You Can’t Tell the Players without a Score Card.” Kalven, The Reasonable Man and the First Amendment: Iiill, Butts, and Walker, 1967 Sup. Ct. Rev. 267, 275. Only three other Justices joined Mr. Justice Harlan’s analysis of the issues involved. In his concurring opinion, Mr. Chief Justice Warren stated the principle for which these cases stand — that the New York Times test reaches both public figures and public officials. Mr. Justice Brennan and Mr. Justice White agreed with the Chief Justice on that question. Mr. Justice Black and Mr. Justice Douglas reiterated their view that publishers should have an absolute immunity from liability for defamation, but they acquiesced in the Chief Justice’s reasoning in order to enable a majority of the Justices to agree on the question of the appropriate constitutional privilege for defamation of public figures.

Mr. Justice Marshall

dissented in Rosenbloom in an opinion joined by Mr. Justice Stewart. Id., at 78. He thought that the plurality's “public or general interest” test for determining the applicability of the New York Times privilege would involve the courts in the dangerous business of deciding “what information is relevant to self-government.” Id., at 79. He also contended that the plurality's position inadequately served “society’s interest in protecting private individuals from being thrust into the public eye by the distorting light of defamation.” Ibid. Mr. Justice Marshall therefore reached the conclusion, also reached by Mr. Justice Harlan, that the States should be “essentially free to continue the evolution of the common law of defamation and to articulate whatever fault standard best suits the State's need,” so long as the States did not impose liability without fault. Id., at 86. The principal point of disagreement among the three dissenters concerned punitive damages. Whereas Mr. Justice Harlan thought that the States could allow punitive damages in amounts bearing “a reasonable and purposeful relationship to the actual harm done . . . ,” id., at 75, Mr. Justice Marshall concluded that the size and unpredictability of jury awards of exemplary damages unnecessarily exacerbated the problems of media self-censorship and that such damages should therefore be forbidden.

Ill

We begin with the common ground. Under the First Amendment there is no such thing as a false idea. However pernicious an opinion may seem, we depend for its correction not on the conscience of judges and juries but *340on the competition of other ideas.8 But there is no constitutional value in false statements of fact. Neither the intentional lie nor the careless error materially advances society's interest in “uninhibited, robust, and wide-open” debate on public issues. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 270. They belong to that category of utterances which “are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.” Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 572 (1942).

Although the erroneous statement of fact is not worthy of constitutional protection, it is nevertheless inevitable in free debate. As James Madison pointed out in the Report on the Virginia Resolutions of 1798: “Some degree of abuse is inseparable from the proper use of every thing; and in no instance is this more true than in that of the press.” 4 J. Elliot, Debates on the Federal Constitution of 1787, p. 571 (1876). And punishment of error runs the risk of inducing a cautious and restrictive exercise of the constitutionally guaranteed freedoms of speech and press. Our decisions recognize that a rule of strict liability that compels a publisher or broadcaster to guarantee the accuracy of his factual assertions may lead to intolerable self-censorship. Allowing the media to avoid liability only by proving the truth of all injurious statements does not accord adequate protection to First Amendment liberties. As the Court stated in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra, at 279: “Allowance of the defense of truth, *341with the burden of proving it on the defendant, does not mean that only false speech will be deterred.” The First Amendment requires that we protect some falsehood in order to protect speech that matters.

The need to avoid self-censorship by the news media is, however, not the only societal value at issue. If it were, this Court would have embraced long ago the view that publishers and broadcasters enjoy an unconditional and indefeasible immunity from liability for defamation. See New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra, at 293 (Black, J., concurring); Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S., at 80 (Douglas, J., concurring); Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S., at 170 (opinion of Black, J.). Such a rule would, indeed, obviate the fear that the prospect of civil liability for injurious falsehood might dissuade a timorous press from the effective exercise of First Amendment freedoms. Yet absolute protection for the communications media requires a total sacrifice' of the competing value served by the law of defamation.

The legitimate state interest underlying the law of libel is the compensation of individuals for the harm inflicted on them by defamatory falsehood. We would not lightly require the State to abandon this purpose, for, as Mr. Justice Stewart has reminded us, the individual’s right to the protection of his own good name

"reflects no more than our basic concept of the essential dignity and worth of every human being — a concept at the root of any decent system of ordered liberty. The protection of private personality, like the protection of life itself, is left primarily to the individual States under the Ninth and Tenth Amendments. But this does not mean that the right is entitled to any less recognition by this Court as a basic of our constitutional system.” Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, 92 (1966) (concurring opinion).

*342Some tension necessarily exists between the need for a vigorous and uninhibited press and the legitimate interest in redressing wrongful injury. As Mr. Justice Harlan stated, “some antithesis between freedom of speech and press and libel actions persists, for libel remains premised on the content of speech and limits the freedom of the publisher to express certain sentiments, at least without guaranteeing legal proof of their substantial accuracy.” Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, supra, at 152. In our continuing effort to define the proper accommodation between these competing concerns, we have been especially anxious to assure to the freedoms of speech and press that “breathing space”' essential to their fruitful exercise. NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433 (1963). To that end this Court has extended a measure of strategic protection to defamatory falsehood.

The New York Times standard defines the level of constitutional protection appropriate to the context of defamation of a public person. Those who, by reason of the notoriety of their achievements or the vigor and success with which they seek the public’s attention, are properly classed as public figures and those who hold governmental office may recover for injury to reputation only on clear and convincing proof that the defamatory falsehood was made with knowledge of its falsity or with reckless disregard for the truth. This standard administers an extremely powerful antidote to the inducement to media self-censorship of the common-law rule of strict liability for libel and slander. And it exacts a correspondingly high price from the victims of defamatory falsehood. Plainly many deserving plaintiffs, including some intentionally subjected to injury, will be unable to surmount the barrier of the New York Times test. Despite this *343substantial abridgment of the state law right to compensation for wrongful hurt to one’s reputation, the Court has concluded that the protection of the New York Times privilege should be available to publishers and broadcasters of defamatory falsehood concerning public officials and public figures. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra; Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, supra. We think that these decisions are correct, but we do not find their holdings justified solely by reference to the interest of the press and broadcast media in immunity from liability. Rather, we believe that the New York Times rule states an accommodation between this concern and the limited state interest present in the context of libel actions brought by public persons. For the reasons stated below, we conclude that the state interest in compensating injury to the reputation of private individuals requires that a different rule should obtain with respect to them.

Theoretically, of course, the balance between the needs of the press and the individual’s claim to compensation for wrongful injury might be struck on a case-by-case basis. As Mr. Justice Harlan hypothesized, “it might seem, purely as an abstract matter, that the most utilitarian approach would be to scrutinize carefully every jury verdict in every libel case, in order to ascertain whether the final judgment leaves fully protected whatever First Amendment values transcend the legitimate state interest in protecting the particular plaintiff who prevailed.” Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S., at 63 (footnote omitted). But this approach would lead to unpredictable results and uncertain expectations, and it could render our duty to supervise the lower courts unmanageable. Because an ad hoc resolution of the competing interests at stake in each particular ease is not feasible, we must lay down broad rules of general *344application. Such rules necessarily treat alike various cases involving differences as well as similarities. Thus it is often true that not all of the considerations which justify adoption of a given rule will obtain in each particular case decided under its authority.

With that caveat we have no difficulty in distinguishing among defamation plaintiffs. The first remedy of any victim of defamation is self-help — using available opportunities to contradict the lie or correct the error and thereby to minimize its adverse impact on reputation. Public officials and public figures usually enjoy significantly greater access to the channels of effective communication and hence have a more realistic opportunity to counteract false statements than private individuals normally enjoy.9 Private individuals are therefore more vulnerable to injury, and the state interest in protecting them is correspondingly greater.

More important than the likelihood that private individuals will lack effective opportunities for rebuttal, there is a compelling normative consideration underlying the distinction between public and private defamation plaintiffs. An individual who decides to seek governmental office must accept certain necessary consequences of that involvement in public affairs. He runs the risk of closer public scrutiny than might otherwise be the case. And society’s interest in the officers of government is not strictly limited to the formal discharge of official duties. As the Court pointed out in Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S., at 77, the public’s interest extends to “anything *345which might touch on an official's fitness for office .... Few personal attributes are more germane to fitness for office than dishonesty, malfeasance, or improper motivation, even though these characteristics may also affect the official's private character.”

Those classed as public figures stand in a similar position. Hypothetically, it may be possible for someone to become a public figure through no purposeful action of his own, but the instances of truly involuntary public figures must be exceedingly rare. For the most part those who attain this status have assumed roles of especial prominence in the affairs of society. Some occupy positions of such persuasive power and influence that they are deemed public figures for all purposes. More commonly, those classed as public figures have thrust themselves to the forefront of particular public controversies in order to influence the resolution of the issues involved. In either event, they invite attention and comment.

Even if the foregoing generalities do not obtain in every instance, the communications media are entitled to act on the assumption that public officials and public figures have voluntarily exposed themselves to increased risk of injury from defamatory falsehood concerning them. No such assumption is justified with respect to a private individual. He has not accepted public office or assumed an “influential role in ordering society.” Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S., at 164 (Warren, C. J., concurring in result). He has relinquished no part of his interest in the protection of his own good name, and consequently he has a more compelling call on the courts for redress of injury inflicted by defamatory falsehood. Thus, private individuals are not only more vulnerable to injury than public officials and public figures; they are also more deserving of recovery.

For these reasons we conclude that the States should retain substantial latitude in their efforts to enforce a *346legal remedy for defamatory falsehood injurious to the reputation of a private individual. The extension of the New York Times test proposed by the Rosenbloom plurality would abridge this legitimate state interest to a degree that we find unacceptable. And it would occasion the additional difficulty of forcing state and federal judges to decide on an ad hoc basis which publications address issues of “general or public interest” and which do not — to determine, in the words of Mr. Justice Marshall, “what information is relevant to self-government.” Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S., at 79. We doubt the wisdom of committing this task to the conscience of judges. Nor does the Constitution require us to draw so thin a line between the drastic alternatives of the New York Times privilege and the common law of strict liability for defamatory error. The “public or general interest” test for determining the applicability of the New York Times standard to private defamation actions inadequately serves both of the competing values at stake. On the one hand, a private individual whose reputation is injured by defamatory falsehood that does concern an issue of public or general interest has no recourse unless he can meet the rigorous requirements of New York Times. This is true despite the factors that distinguish the state interest in compensating private individuals from the analogous interest involved in the context of public persons. On the other hand, a publisher or broadcaster of a defamatory error which a court deems unrelated to an issue of public or general interest may be held liable in damages even if it took every reasonable precaution to ensure the accuracy of its assertions. And liability may far exceed compensation for any actual injury to the plaintiff, for the jury may be permitted to presume damages without proof of loss and even to award punitive damages.

*347We hold that, so long as they do not impose liability without fault, the States may define for themselves the appropriate standard of liability for a publisher or broadcaster of defamatory falsehood injurious to a private individual.10 This approach provides a more equitable *348boundary between the competing concerns involved here. It recognizes the strength of the legitimate state interest in compensating private individuals for wrongful injury to reputation, yet shields the press and broadcast media from the rigors of strict liability for defamation. At least this conclusion obtains where, as here, the substance of the defamatory statement “makes substantial danger to reputation apparent.” 11 This phrase places in perspective the conclusion we announce today. Our inquiry would involve considerations somewhat different from those discussed above if a State purported to condition civil liability on a factual misstatement whose content did not warn a reasonably prudent editor or broadcaster of its defamatory potential. Cf. Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374 (1967). Such a case is not now before us, and we intimate no view as to its proper resolution.

IV

Our accommodation of the competing values at stake in defamation suits by private individuals allows the States to impose liability on the publisher or broadcaster of defamatory falsehood on a less demanding showing than that required by New York Times. This conclusion is not based on a belief that the considerations which prompted the adoption of the New York Times privilege for defamation of public officials and its extension to public figures are wholly inapplicable to the context of private individuals. Rather, we endorse this approach in recognition of the strong and legitimate state interest in compensating private individuals for injury to reputa*349tion. But this countervailing state interest extends no further than compensation for actual injury. For the reasons stated below, we hold that the States may not permit recovery of presumed or punitive damages, at least when liability is not based on a showing of knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard for the truth.

The common law of defamation is an oddity of tort law, for it allows recovery of purportedly compensatory damages without evidence of actual loss. Under the traditional rules pertaining to actions for libel, the existence of injury is presumed from the fact of publication. Juries may award substantial sums as compensation for supposed damage to reputation without any proof that such harm actually occurred. The largely uncontrolled discretion of juries to award damages where there is no loss unnecessarily compounds the potential of any system of liability for defamatory falsehood to inhibit the vigorous exercise of First Amendment freedoms. Additionally, the doctrine of presumed damages invites juries to punish unpopular opinion rather than to compensate individuals for injury sustained by the publication of a false fact. More to the point, the States have no substantial interest in securing for plaintiffs such as this petitioner gratuitous awards of money damages far in excess of any actual injury.

We would not, of course, invalidate state law simply because we doubt its wisdom, but here we are attempting to reconcile state law with a competing interest grounded in the constitutional command of the First Amendment. It is therefore appropriate to require that state remedies for defamatory falsehood reach no farther than is necessary to protect the legitimate interest involved. It is necessary to restrict defamation plaintiffs who do not prove knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard for the truth to compensation for actual injury. We *350need not define “actual injury,” as trial courts have wide experience in framing appropriate jury instructions in tort actions. Suffice it to say that actual injury is not limited to out-of-pocket loss. Indeed, the more customary types of actual harm inflicted by defamatory falsehood include impairment of reputation and standing in the community, personal humiliation, and mental anguish and suffering. Of course, juries must be limited by appropriate instructions, and all awards must be supported by competent evidence concerning the injury, although there need be no evidence which assigns an actual dollar value to the injury.

We also find no justification for allowing awards of punitive damages against publishers and broadcasters held liable under state-defined standards of liability for defamation. In most jurisdictions jury discretion over the amounts awarded is limited only by the gentle rule that they not be excessive. Consequently, juries assess punitive damages in wholly unpredictable amounts bearing no necessary relation to the actual harm caused. And they remain free to use their discretion selectively to punish expressions of unpopular views. Like the doctrine of presumed damages, jury discretion to award punitive damages unnecessarily exacerbates the danger of media self-censorship, but, unlike the former rule, punitive damages are wholly irrelevant to the state interest that justifies a negligence standard for private defamation actions. They are not compensation for injury. Instead, they are private fines levied by civil juries to punish reprehensible conduct and to deter its future occurrence. In short, the private defamation plaintiff who establishes liability under a less demanding standard than that stated by New York Times may recover only such damages as are sufficient to compensate him for actual injury.

*351V

Notwithstanding our refusal to extend the New York Times privilege to defamation of private individuals, respondent contends that we should affirm the judgment below on the ground that petitioner is either a public official or a public figure. There is little basis for the former assertion. Several years prior to the present incident, petitioner had served briefly on housing committees appointed by the mayor of Chicago, but at the time of publication he had never held any remunerative governmental position. Respondent admits this but argues that petitioner's appearance at the coroner’s inquest rendered him a "de facto public official.” Our cases recognize no such concept. Respondent’s suggestion would sweep all lawyers under the New York Times rule as officers of the court and distort the plain meaning of the “public official” category beyond all recognition. We decline to follow it.

Respondent’s characterization of petitioner as a public figure raises a different question. That designation may rest on either of two alternative bases. In some instances an individual may achieve such pervasive fame or notoriety that he becomes a public figure for all purposes and in all contexts. More commonly, an individual voluntarily injects himself or is drawn into a particular public controversy and thereby becomes a public figure for a limited range of issues. In either case such persons assume special prominence in the resolution of public questions.

Petitioner has long been active in community and professional affairs. He has served as an officer of local civic groups and of various professional organizations, and he has published several books and articles on legal subjects. Although petitioner was consequently well known in some circles, he had achieved no general fame *352or notoriety in the community. None of the prospective jurors called at the trial had ever heard of petitioner prior to this litigation, and respondent offered no proof that this response was atypical of the local population. We would not lightly assume that a citizen’s participation in community and professional affairs rendered him a public figure for all purposes. Absent clear evidence of general fame or notoriety in the community, and pervasive involvement in the affairs of society, an individual should not be deemed a public personality for all aspects of his life. It is preferable to reduce the public-figure question to a more meaningful context by looking to the nature and extent of an individual’s participation in the particular controversy giving rise to the defamation.

In this context it is plain that petitioner was not a public figure. He played a minimal role at the coroner’s inquest, and his participation related solely to his representation of a private client. He took no part in the criminal prosecution of Officer Nuccio. Moreover, he never discussed either the criminal or civil litigation with the press and was never quoted as having done so. He plainly did not thrust himself into the vortex of this public issue, nor did he engage the public’s attention in an attempt to influence its outcome. We are persuaded that the trial court did not err in refusing to characterize petitioner as a public figure for the purpose of this litigation.

We therefore conclude that the New York Times standard is inapplicable to this case and that the trial court erred in entering judgment for respondent. Because the jury was allowed to impose liability without fault and was permitted to presume damages without proof of injury, a new trial is necessary. We reverse and remand for further proceedings in accord with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

8

As Thomas Jefferson made the point in his first Inaugural Address: "If there be any among us who would wish to dissolve this Union or change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it.”

9

Of course, an opportunity for rebuttal seldom suffices to undo harm of defamatory falsehood. Indeed, the law of defamation is rooted in our experience that the truth rarely catches up with a lie. But the fact that the self-help remedy of rebuttal, standing alone, is inadequate to its task does not mean that it is irrelevant to our inquiry.

10

Our caveat against strict liability is the prime target of Mr. Justice White’s dissent. He would hold that a publisher or broadcaster may be required to prove the truth of a defamatory statement concerning a private individual and, failing such proof, that the publisher or broadcaster may be held liable for defamation even though he took every conceivable precaution to ensure the accuracy of the offending statement prior to its dissemination. Post, at 388-392. In Mr. Justice White’s view, one who publishes a statement that later turns out to be inaccurate can never be “without fault” in any meaningful sense, for “[i]t is he who circulated a falsehood that he was not required to 'publish.” Post, at 392 (emphasis added).

Mr. Justice White characterizes New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), as simply a case of seditious libel. Post, at 387. But that rationale is certainly inapplicable to Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S. 130 (1967), where Mr. Justice White joined four other Members of the Court to extend the knowing-or-reckless-falsity standard to media defamation of persons identified as public figures but not connected with the Government. Mr. Justice White now suggests that he would abide by that vote, post, at 398, but the full thrust of his dissent — as we read it — contradicts that suggestion. Finally, in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29, 57 (1971), Mr. Justice White voted to apply the New York Times privilege to media defamation of an individual who was neither a public official nor a public figure. His opinion states that the knowing-or-reckless-falsity standard should apply to media “comment upon the official actions of public servants,” id., at 62, including defamatory falsehood about a person arrested by the police. If adopted by the Court, this conclusion would significantly extend the New York Times privilege.

Mr. Justice White asserts that our decision today “trivializes and denigrates the interest in reputation,” Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, ante, at 262 (concurring opinion), that it “scuttle[s] the libel laws of the States in . . . wholesale fashion” and renders ordinary citizens “powerless to protect themselves.” Post, at 370. In light of the progressive extension of the knowing-or-reckless-falsity *348requirement detailed in the preceding paragraph, one might have viewed today’s decision allowing recovery under any standard save strict liability as a more generous accommodation of the state interest in comprehensive reputational injury to private individuals than the law presently affords.

11

Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, supra, at 155.

*353Mr. Justice Blackmun,

concurring.

I joined Mr. Justice Brennan’s opinion for the plurality in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29 (1971). I did so because I concluded that, given New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), and its progeny (noted by the Court, ante, at 334-336, n. 6), as well as Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts and Associated Press v. Walker, 388 U. S. 130 (1967), the step taken in Rosen-bloom, extending the New York Times doctrine to an event of public or general interest, was logical and inevitable. A majority of the Court evidently thought otherwise, as is particularly evidenced by Mr. Justice White’s separate concurring opinion there and by the respective dissenting opinions of Mr. Justice Harlan and of Mr. Justice Marshall joined by Mr. Justice Stewart.

The Court today refuses to apply New York Times to the private individual, as contrasted with the public official and the public figure. It thus withdraws to the factual limits of the pre-Rosenbloom cases. It thereby fixes the outer boundary of the New York Times doctrine and says that beyond that boundary, a State is free to define for itself the appropriate standard of media liability so long as it does not impose liability without fault. As my joinder in Rosenbloom’s plurality opinion would intimate, I sense some illogic in this.

The Court, however, seeks today to strike a balance between competing values where necessarily uncertain assumptions about human behavior color the result. Although the Court’s opinion in the present case departs from the rationale of the Rosenbloom plurality, in that the Court now conditions a libel action by a private person upon a showing of negligence, as contrasted with a showing of willful or reckless disregard, I am willing to *354join, and do join, the Court’s opinion and its judgment for two reasons:

1. By removing the specters of presumed and punitive damages in the absence of New York Times malice, the Court eliminates significant and powerful motives for self-censorship that otherwise are present in the traditional libel action. By so doing, the Court leaves what should prove to be sufficient and adequate breathing space for a vigorous press. What the Court has done, I believe, will have little, if any, practical effect on the functioning of responsible journalism.

2. The Court was sadly fractionated in Bosenbloom. A result of that kind inevitably leads to uncertainty. I feel that it is of profound importance for the Court to come to rest in the defamation area and to have a clearly defined majority position that eliminates the unsureness engendered by Rosenbloom’s diversity. If my vote were not needed to create a majority, I would adhere to my prior view. A definitive ruling, however, is paramount. See Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S., at 170 (Black, J., concurring); Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 398 (1967) (Black, J., concurring); United States v. Vuitch, 402 U. S. 62, 97 (1971) (separate statement).

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

Mr. Chief Justice Burger,

dissenting.

The doctrines of the law of defamation have had a gradual evolution primarily in the state courts. In New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), and its progeny this Court entered this field.

Agreement or disagreement with the law as it has evolved to this time does not alter the fact that it has been orderly development with a consistent basic rationale. In today’s opinion the Court abandons the tradi*355tional thread so far as the ordinary private citizen is concerned and introduces the concept that the media will be liable for negligence in publishing defamatory statements with respect to such persons. Although I agree with much of what Mr. Justice White states, I do not read the Court’s new doctrinal approach in quite the way he does. I am frank to say I do not know the parameters of a “negligence” doctrine as applied to the news media. Conceivably this new doctrine could inhibit some editors, as the dissents of Mr. Justice Douglas and Mr. Justice Brennan suggest. But I would prefer to allow this area of law to continue to evolve as it has up to now with respect to private citizens rather than embark on a new doctrinal theory which has no jurisprudential ancestry.

The petitioner here was performing a professional representative role as an advocate in the highest tradition of the law, and under that tradition the advocate is not to be invidiously identified with his client. The important public policy which underlies this tradition — the right to counsel — would be gravely jeopardized if every lawyer who takes an “unpopular” case, civil or criminal, would automatically become fair game for irresponsible reporters and editors who might, for example, describe the lawyer as a “mob mouthpiece” for representing a client with a serious prior criminal record, or as an “ambulance chaser” for representing a claimant in a personal injury action.

I would reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals and remand for reinstatement of the verdict of the jury and the entry of an appropriate judgment on that verdict.

Mr. Justice Douglas,

dissenting.

The Court describes this case as a return to the struggle of “defin[ing] the proper accommodation between the law of defamation and the freedoms of speech and press protected by the First Amendment.” It is indeed a struggle, once described by Mr. Justice Black as “the same *356quagmire” in which the Court “is now helplessly struggling in the field of obscenity.” Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S. 130, 171 (concurring opinion). I would suggest that the struggle is a quite hopeless one, for, in light of the command of the First Amendment, no “accommodation” of its freedoms can be “proper” except those made by the Framers themselves.

Unlike the right of privacy which, by the terms of the Fourth Amendment, must be accommodated with reasonable searches and seizures and warrants issued by magistrates, the rights of free speech and of a free press were protected by the Framers in verbiage whose proscription seems clear. I have stated before my view that the First Amendment would bar Congress from passing any libel law.1 This was the view held by Thomas Jefferson2 and it is one Congress has never challenged through enactment of a civil libel statute. The sole congressional attempt at this variety of First Amendment muzzle was in the Sedition Act of 1798 — a criminal libel act never tested in this Court and one which expired by its terms three years after enactment. As President, Thomas Jefferson pardoned those who were convicted under the Act, and fines levied in its prosecution were repaid by Act of Congress.3 The general *357consensus was that the Act constituted a regrettable legislative exercise plainly in violation of the First Amendment.4

With the First Amendment made applicable to the States through the Fourteenth,5 I do not see how States have any more ability to “accommodate” freedoms of speech or of the press than does Congress. This is true whether the form of the accommodation is civil or criminal since “[w]hat a State may not constitutionally bring about by means of a criminal statute is likewise beyond the reach of its civil law of libel.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 277. Like Congress, States are without power “to use a civil libel law or any other law to impose damages for merely discussing public affairs.” Id., at 295 (Black, J., concurring).6

*358Continued recognition of the possibility of state libel suits for public discussion of public issues leaves the freedom of speech honored by the Fourteenth Amendment a diluted version of First Amendment protection. This view is only possible if one accepts the position that the First Amendment is applicable to the States only through the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth, due process freedom of speech being only that freedom which this Court might deem to be “implicit in the concept of ordered liberty.” 7 But the Court frequently has rested *359state free speech and free press decisions on the Fourteenth Amendment generally8 rather than on the Due Process Clause alone. The Fourteenth Amendment speaks not only of due process but also of “privileges and immunities” of United States citizenship. I can conceive of no privilege or immunity with a higher claim to recognition against state abridgment than the freedoms of speech and of the press. In our federal system we are all subject to two governmental regimes, and freedoms of speech and of the press protected against the infringement of only one are quite illusory. The identity of the oppressor is, I would think, a matter of relative indifference to the oppressed.

There can be no doubt that a State impinges upon free and open discussion when it sanctions the imposition of damages for such discussion through its civil libel laws. Discussion of public affairs is often marked by highly charged emotions, and jurymen, not unlike us all, are subject to those emotions. It is indeed this very type of speech which is the reason for the First Amendment since speech which arouses little emotion is little in need of protection. The vehicle for publication in this case was the American Opinion, a most controversial periodical which disseminates the views of the John Birch Society, an organization which many deem to be *360quite offensive. The subject matter involved “Communist plots,” “conspiracies against law enforcement agencies,” and the killing of a private citizen by the police. With any such amalgam of controversial elements pressing upon the jury, a jury determination, unpredictable in the most neutral circumstances, becomes for those who venture to discuss heated issues, a virtual roll of the dice separating them from liability for often massive claims of damage.

It is only the hardy publisher who will engage in discussion in the face of such risk, and the Court’s preoccupation with proliferating standards in the area of libel increases the risks. It matters little whether the standard be articulated as “malice” or “reckless disregard of the truth” or “negligence,” for jury determinations by any of those criteria are virtually unreviewable. This Court, in its continuing delineation of variegated mantles of First Amendment protection, is, like the potential publisher, left with only speculation on how jury findings were influenced by the effect the subject matter of the publication had upon the minds and viscera of the jury. The standard announced today leaves the States free to “define for themselves the appropriate standard of liability for a publisher or broadcaster” in the circumstances of this case. This of course leaves the simple negligence standard as an option, with the jury free to impose damages upon a finding that the publisher failed to act as “a reasonable man.” With such continued erosion of First Amendment protection, I fear that it may well be the reasonable man who refrains from speaking.

Since in my view the First and Fourteenth Amendments prohibit the imposition of damages upon respondent for this discussion of public affairs, I would affirm the judgment below.

1

See, e. g., Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75, 90 (concurring).

2

In 1798 Jefferson stated:

“[The First Amendment] thereby guard[s] in the same sentence, and under the same words, the freedom of religion, of speech, and of the press: insomuch, that whatever violates either, throws down the sanctuary which covers the others, and that libels, falsehood, and defamation, equally with heresy and false religion, are withheld from the cognizance of federal tribunals. ...” 8 The Works of Thomas Jefferson 464-465 (Ford ed. 1904) (emphasis added).

3

See, e. g., Act of July 4, 1840, c. 45, 6 Stat. 802, accompanied by H. R. Rep. No. 86, 26th Cong., 1st Sess. (1840).

4

Senator Calhoun in reporting to Congress assumed the invalidity of the Act to be a matter “which no one now doubts.” Report with Senate Bill No. 122, S. Doc. No. 118, 24th Cong., 1st Sess., 3 (1836).

5

See Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359, 368-369.

6

Since this case involves a discussion of public affairs, I need not decide at this point whether the First Amendment prohibits all libel actions. “An unconditional right to say what one pleases about public affairs is what I consider to be the minimum guarantee of the First Amendment.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 297 (Black, J., concurring) (emphasis added). But “public affairs” includes a great deal more than merely political affairs. Matters of science, economics, business, art, literature, etc., are all matters of interest to the general public. Indeed, any matter of sufficient general interest to prompt media coverage may be said to be a public affair. Certainly police killings, “Communist conspiracies,” and the like qualify.

A more regressive view of free speech has surfaced but it has thus far gained no judicial acceptance. Solicitor General Bork has stated:

“Constitutional protection should be accorded only to speech that is explicitly political. There is no basis for judicial intervention to protect any other form of expression, be it scientific, literary or *358that variety of expression we call obscene or pornographic. Moreover, within that category of speech we ordinarly call political, there should be no constitutional obstruction to laws making criminal any speech that advocates forcible overthrow of the government or the violation of any law.” Bork, Neutral Principles and Some First Amendment Problems, 47 Ind. L. J. 1, 20 (1971).

According to this view, Congress, upon finding a painting aesthetically displeasing or a novel poorly written or a revolutionary new scientific theory unsound could constitutionally prohibit exhibition of the painting, distribution of the book or discussion of the theory. Congress might also proscribe the advocacy of the violation of any law, apparently without regard to the law’s constitutionality. Thus, were Congress to pass a blatantly invalid law such as one prohibiting newspaper editorials critical of the Government, a publisher might be punished for advocating its violation. Similarly, the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., could have been punished for advising blacks to peacefully sit in the front of buses or to ask for service in restaurants segregated by law.

7

See Palko v. Connecticut, 302 U. S. 319, 325. As Mr. Justice Black has noted, by this view the test becomes “whether the government has an interest in abridging the right involved and, if so, whether that interest is of sufficient importance, in the opinion of a majority of the Supreme Court, to justify the government’s action in doing so. Such a doctrine can be used to justify almost any government suppression of First Amendment freedoms. As I have stated many times before, I cannot subscribe to this doctrine because I believe that the First Amendment’s unequivocal command that there shall be no abridgement of the rights of free speech shows that the men *359who drafted our Bill of Rights did all the ‘balancing’ that was to be done in this field.” H. Black, A Constitutional Faith 52 (1969).

8

See, e. g., Bridges v. California, 314 U. S. 252, 263 n. 6 (Black, J.); Murdock v. Pennsylvania, 319 U. S. 105, 108 (Douglas, J.); Saia v. New York, 334 U. S. 558, 560 (Douglas, J.); Talley v. California, 362 U. S. 60, 62 (Black, J.); DeGregory v. Attorney General of New Hampshire, 383 U. S. 825, 828 (Douglas, J.); Elfbrandt v. Bussell, 384 U. S. 11, 18 (Douglas, J.); Mills v. Alabama, 384 U. S. 214, 218 (Black, J.); Mine Workers v. Illinois Bar Assn., 389 U. S. 217, 221-222, and n. 4 (Black, J.).

*361Mr. Justice Brennan,

dissenting.

I agree with the conclusion, expressed in Part V of the Court’s opinion, that, at the time of publication of respondent’s article, petitioner could not properly have been viewed as either a “public official” or “public figure”; instead, respondent’s article, dealing with an alleged conspiracy to discredit local police forces, concerned petitioner’s purported involvement in “an event of public or general interest.” Roosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29, 31-32 (1971); see ante, at 331-332, n. 4. I cannot agree, however, that free and robust debate— so essential to the proper functioning of our system of government — -is permitted adequate “breathing space,” NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433 (1963), when, as the Court holds, the States may impose all but strict liability for defamation if the defamed party is a private person and “the substance of the defamatory statement ‘makes substantial danger to reputation apparent.’ ” Ante, at 348.1 I adhere to my view expressed in Rosen-bloom v. Metromedia, Inc., supra, that we strike the proper accommodation between avoidance of media self-censorship and protection of individual reputations only when we require States to apply the New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), knowing-or-reckless-falsity standard in civil libel actions concerning media reports of the involvement of private individuals in events of public or general interest.

The Court does not hold that First Amendment guarantees do not extend to speech concerning private persons’ involvement in events of public or general interest. It recognizes that self-governance in this country perseveres because of our “profound national com*362mitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open.” Id., at 270 (emphasis added). Thus, guarantees of free speech and press necessarily reach “far more than knowledge and debate about the strictly official activities of various levels of government,” Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., supra, at 41; for “[f]reedom of discussion, if it would fulfill its historic function in this nation, must embrace all issues about which information is needed or appropriate to enable the members of society to cope with the exigencies of their period.” Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 102 (1940).

The teaching to be distilled from our prior cases is that, while public interest in events may at times be influenced by the notoriety of the individuals involved, “[t]he public’s primary interest is in the event[,] . . . tile conduct of the participant and the content, effect, and significance of the conduct....” Rosenbloom, supra, at 43. Matters of public or general interest do not “suddenly become less so merely because a private individual is involved, or because in some sense the individual did not ‘voluntarily’ choose to become involved.” Ibid. See Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 388 (1967).

Although acknowledging that First Amendment values are of no less significance when media reports concern private persons’ involvement in matters of public concern, the Court refuses to provide, in such cases, the same level of constitutional protection that has been afforded the media in the context of defamation of public persons. The accommodation that this Court has established between free speech and libel laws in cases involving public officials and public figures — that defamatory falsehood be shown by clear and convincing evidence to have been published with knowledge of falsity or with reckless disregard of truth — is not apt, the Court holds, because *363the private individual does not have the same degree of access to the media to rebut defamatory comments as does the public person and he has not voluntarily exposed himself to public scrutiny.

While these arguments are forcefully and eloquently presented, I cannot accept them, for the reasons I stated in Rosenbioom:

“The New York Times standard was applied to libel of a public official or public figure to give effect to the [First] Amendment's function to encourage ventilation of public issues, not because the public official has any less interest in protecting his reputation than an individual in private life. While the argument that public figures need less protection because they can command media attention to counter criticism may be true for some very prominent people, even then it is the rare case where the denial overtakes the original charge. Denials, retractions, and corrections are not ‘hot’ news, and rarely receive the prominence of the original story. When the public official or public figure is a minor functionary, or has left the position that put him in the public eye . . . , the argument loses all of its force. In the vast majority of libels involving public officials or public figures, the ability to respond through the media will depend on the same complex factor on which the ability of a private individual depends: the unpredictable event of the media’s continuing interest in the story. Thus the unproved, and highly improbable, generalization that an as yet [not fully defined] class of ‘public figures’ involved in matters of public concern will be better able to respond through the media than private individuals also involved in such matters seems too insubstantial *364a reed on which to rest a constitutional distinction.” 403 U. S., at 46-47.

Moreover, the argument that private persons should not be required to prove New York Times knowing-or-reckless falsity because they do not assume the risk of defamation by freely entering the public arena “bears little relationship either to the values protected by the First Amendment or to the nature of our society.” Id., at 47. Social interaction exposes all of us to some degree of public view. This Court has observed that “[t]he risk of this exposure is an essential incident of life in a society which places a primary value on freedom of speech and of press.” Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S., at 388. Therefore,

“[v]oluntarily or not, we are all ‘public’ men to some degree. Conversely, some aspects of the lives of even the most public men fall outside the area of matters of public or general concern. See . . . Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965). Thus, the idea that certain ‘public’ figures have voluntarily exposed their entire lives to public inspection, while private individuals have kept theirs carefully shrouded from public view is, at best, a legal fiction. In any event, such a distinction could easily produce the paradoxical result of dampening discussion of issues of public or general concern because they happen to involve private citizens while extending constitutional encouragement to discussion of aspects of the lives of ‘public figures’ that are not in the area of public or general concern.” Rosenbloom, supra, at 48 (footnote omitted).

To be sure, no one commends publications which defame the good name and reputation of any person: “In an ideal world, the responsibility of the press would match the freedom and public trust given it.” Id., at *36551.2 Rather, as the Court agrees, some abuse of First Amendment freedoms is tolerated only to insure that would-be commentators on events of public or general interest are not “deterred from voicing their criticism, even though it is believed to be true and even though it is in fact true, because of doubt whether it can be proved in court or fear of the expense of having to do so.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 279. The Court's holding and a fortiori my Brother White’s views, see n. 1, supra, simply deny free expression its needed “breathing space.” Today’s decision will exacerbate the rule of self-censorship of legitimate utterance as publishers “steer far wider of the .unlawful zone,” Speiser v. Randall, 357 U. S. 513, 526 (1958).

We recognized in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra, at 279, that a rule requiring a critic of official conduct to guarantee the truth of all of his factual contentions would inevitably lead to self-censorship when *366publishers, fearful of being unable to prove truth or unable to bear the expense of attempting to do so, simply eschewed printing controversial articles. Adoption, by many States, of a reasonable-care standard in cases where private individuals are involved in matters of public interest — the probable result of today’s decision — will likewise lead to self-censorship since publishers will be required carefully to weigh a myriad of uncertain factors before publication. The reasonable-care standard is “elusive,” Time, Inc. v. Hill, supra, at 389; it saddles the press with “the intolerable burden of guessing how a jury might assess the reasonableness of steps taken by it to verify the accuracy of every reference to a name, picture or portrait.” Ibid. Under a reasonable-care regime, publishers and broadcasters will have to make pre-publication judgments about juror assessment of such diverse considerations as the size, operating procedures, and financial condition of the newsgathering system, as well as the relative costs and benefits of instituting less frequent and more costly reporting at a higher level of accuracy. See The Supreme Court, 1970 Term, 85 Harv. L. Rev. 3, 228 (1971). Moreover, in contrast to proof by clear and convincing evidence required under the New York Times test, the burden of proof for reasonable care will doubtless be the preponderance of the evidence.

“In the normal civil suit where [the preponderance of the evidence] standard is employed, ‘we view it as no more serious in general for there to be an erroneous verdict in the defendant’s favor than for there to be an erroneous verdict in the plaintiff’s favor.’ In re Winship, 397 U. S. 358, 371 (1970) (Harlan, J., concurring). In libel cases, however, we view an erroneous verdict for the plaintiff as most serious. Not only does it mulct the defendant for an innocent misstatement . . . but the *367possibility of such error, even beyond the vagueness of the negligence standard itself, would create a strong impetus toward self-censorship, which the First Amendment cannot tolerate.” Rosenbloom, 403 U. S., at 50.

And, most hazardous, the flexibility which inheres in the reasonable-care standard will create the danger that a jury will convert it into “an instrument for the suppression of those 'vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp attacks/ . . . which must be protected if the guarantees of the First and Fourteenth Amendments are to prevail.” Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U.S. 265, 277 (1971).

The Court does not discount altogether the danger that jurors will punish for the expression of unpopular opinions. This probability accounts for the Court’s limitation that “the States may not permit recovery of presumed or punitive damages, at least when liability is not based on a showing of knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard for the truth.” Ante, at 349. But plainly a jury’s latitude to impose liability for want of due care poses a far greater threat of suppressing unpopular views than does a possible recovery of presumed or punitive damages. Moreover, the Court’s broad-ranging examples of “actual injury,” including impairment of reputation and standing in the community, as well as personal humiliation, and mental anguish and suffering, inevitably allow a jury bent on punishing expression of unpopular views a formidable weapon for doing so. Finally, even a limitation of recovery to “actual injury” — however much it reduces the size or frequency of recoveries — will not provide the necessary elbowroom for First Amendment expression.

“It is not simply the possibility of a judgment for damages that results in self-censorship. The very *368possibility of having to engage in litigation, an expensive and protracted process, is threat enough to cause discussion and debate to 'steer far wider of the unlawful zone’ thereby keeping protected discussion from public cognizance. . . . Too, a small newspaper suffers equally from a substantial damage award, whether the label of the award be 'actual’ or 'punitive.’ ” Rosenbloom, supra, at 52-53.

On the other hand, the uncertainties which the media face under today’s decision are largely avoided by the New York Times standard. I reject the argument that my Rosenbloom view improperly commits to judges the task of determining what is and what is not an issue of “general or public interest.” 3 I noted in Rosenbloom *369that performance of this task would not always be easy. Id., at 49 n. 17. But surely the courts, the ultimate arbiters of all disputes concerning clashes of constitutional values, would only be performing one of their traditional functions in undertaking this duty. Also, the difficulty of this task has been substantially lessened by that “sizable body of cases, decided both before and after Rosenbloom, that have employed the concept of a matter of public concern to reach decisions in . . . cases dealing with an alleged libel of a private individual that employed a public interest standard . . . and . . . cases that applied Butts to the alleged libel of a public figure.” Comment, The Expanding Constitutional Protection for the News Media from Liability for Defamation: Predictability and the New Synthesis, 70 Mich. L. Rev. 1547, 1560 (1972). The public interest is necessarily broad; any residual self-censorship that may result from the uncertain contours of the “general or public interest” concept should be of far less concern to publishers and broadcasters than that occasioned by state laws imposing liability for negligent falsehood.

Since petitioner failed, after having been given a full and fair opportunity, to prove that respondent published the disputed article with knowledge of its falsity or with reckless disregard of the truth, see ante, at 329-330, n. 2, I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals.

1

A fortiori I disagree with my Brother White’s view that the States should have free rein to impose strict liability for defamation in cases not involving public persons.

2

A respected commentator has observed that factors other than purely legal constraints operate to control the press:

“Traditions, attitudes, and general rules of political conduct are far more important controls. The fear of opening a credibility gap, and thereby lessening one’s influence, holds some participants in check. Institutional pressures in large organizations, including some of the press, have a similar effect; it is difficult for an organization to have an open policy of making intentionally false accusations.” T. Emerson, The System of Freedom of Expression 538 (1970).
Typical of the press’ own ongoing self-evaluation is a proposal to establish a national news council, composed of members drawn from the public and the journalism profession, to examine and report on complaints concerning the accuracy and fairness of news reporting by the largest newsgathering sources. Twentieth Century Fund Task Force Report for a National News Council, A Free and Responsive Press (1973). See also Comment, The Expanding Constitutional Protection for the News Media from Liability for Defamation: Predictability and the New Synthesis, 70 Mich. L. Rev. 1547, 1569-1570 (1972).

3

The Court, taking a novel step, would not limit application of First Amendment protection to private libels involving issues of general or public interest, but would forbid the States from imposing liability without fault in any case where the substance of the defamatory statement made substantial danger to reputation apparent. As in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29, 44 n. 12, 48-49, n. 17 (1971), I would leave open the question of what constitutional standard, if any, applies when defamatory falsehoods are published or broadcast concerning either a private or public person's activities not within the scope of the general or public interest.

Parenthetically, my Brother White argues that the Court’s view and mine will prevent a plaintiff — unable to demonstrate some degree of fault — from vindicating his reputation by securing a judgment that the publication was false. This argument overlooks the possible enactment of statutes, not requiring proof of fault, which provide for an action for retraction or for publication of a court’s determination of falsity if the plaintiff is able to demonstrate that false statements have been published concerning his activities. Cf. Note, Vindication of the Reputation of a Public Official, 80 Harv. L. Rev. 1730, 1739-1747 (1967). Although it may be that questions could be raised concerning the constitutionality of such statutes, certainly nothing I have said today (and, as I read the Court’s opinion, nothing said there) should be read to imply that a private plaintiff, unable to prove fault, must inevitably be denied the oppor*369tunity to secure a judgment upon the truth or falsity of statements published about him. Cf. Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., supra, at 47, and n. 15.

Me. Justice White,

dissenting.

For some 200 years — from the very founding of the Nation — the law of defamation and right of the ordinary citizen to recover for false publication injurious to his reputation have been almost exclusively the business of *370state courts and legislatures. Under typical state defamation law, the defamed private citizen had to prove only a false publication that would subject him to hatred, contempt, or ridicule. Given such publication, general damage to reputation was presumed, while punitive damages required proof of additional facts. The law governing the defamation of private citizens remained untouched by the First Amendment because until relatively recently, the consistent view of the Court was that libelous words constitute a class of speech wholly unprotected by the First Amendment; subject only to limited exceptions carved out since 1964.

But now, using that Amendment as the chosen instrument, the Court, in a few printed pages, has federalized major aspects of libel law by declaring unconstitutional in important respects the prevailing defamation law in all or most of the 50 States. That result is accomplished by requiring the plaintiff in each and every defamation action to prove not only the defendant’s culpability beyond his act of publishing defamatory material but also actual damage to reputation resulting from the publication. Moreover, punitive damages may not be recovered by showing malice in the traditional sense of ill will; knowing falsehood or reckless disregard of the truth will now be required.

I assume these sweeping changes will be popular with the press, but this is not the road to salvation for a court of law. As I see it, there are wholly insufficient grounds for scuttling the libel laws of the States in such wholesale fashion, to say nothing of deprecating the reputation interest of ordinary citizens and rendering them powerless to protect themselves. I do not suggest that the decision is illegitimate or beyond the bounds of judicial review, but it is an ill-considered exercise of the power entrusted to this Court, particularly when the *371Court has not had the benefit of briefs and argument addressed to most of the major issues which the Court now decides. I respectfully dissent.

I

Lest there be any mistake about it, the changes wrought by the Court’s decision cut very deeply. In 1938, the Restatement of Torts reflected the historic rule that publication in written form of defamatory material— material tending “so to harm the reputation of another as to lower him in the estimation of the community or to deter third persons from associating or dealing with him”1 — subjected the publisher to liability although no special harm to reputation was actually proved.2' Re*372statement of Torts § 569 (1938).3 Truth was a defense, and some libels were privileged; but, given a false circulation, general damage to reputation was presumed and damages could be awarded by the jury, along with any special damages such as pecuniary loss and emotional distress. At the very least, the rule allowed the recovery of nominal damages for any defamatory publication actionable per se and thus performed

“a vindicatory function by enabling the plaintiff publicly to brand the defamatory publication as false. The salutary social value of this rule is preventive in character since it often permits a defamed person to expose the groundless character of a defamatory rumor before harm to the reputation has resulted therefrom.” Id., § 569, comment b, p. 166.

If the defamation was not libel but slander, it was actionable per se only if it imputed a criminal offense; a venereal or loathsome and communicable disease; improper conduct of a lawful business; or unchastity by a woman. Id., § 570. To be actionable, all other types of slanderous statements required proof of special damage other than actual loss of reputation or emotional distress, that special damage almost always being in the form of material or pecuniary loss of some kind. Id., § 575 and comment b, pp. 185-187.

Damages for libel or slander per se included “harm caused thereby to the reputation of the person defamed or in the absence of proof of such harm, for the harm which normally results from such a defamation.” Id., § 621. At the heart of the libel-and-slander-per-se *373damage scheme lay the award of general damages for loss of reputation. They were granted without special proof because the judgment of history was that the content of the publication itself was so likely to cause injury and because “in many cases the effect of defamatory statements is so subtle and indirect that it is impossible directly to trace the effects thereof in loss to the person defamed.” Id., § 621, comment a, p. 314.4 Proof of actual injury to reputation was itself insufficient proof of that special damage necessary to support liability for slander not actionable per se. But if special damage in the form of material or pecuniary loss were proved, general damages for injury to reputation could be had without further proof. “The plaintiff may recover not only for the special harm so caused, but also for general loss of reputation.” Id., § 575, comment a, p. 185.5 The right to recover for emotional distress depended upon the defendant’s otherwise being liable for either libel or slander. Id., § 623. Punitive damages were recoverable upon proof of special facts amounting to express malice. Id., § 908 and comment b, p. 555.

*374Preparations in the mid-1960’s for Restatement (Second) of Torts reflected what were deemed to be substantial changes in the law of defamation, primarily a trend toward limiting per se libels to those where the defamatory nature of the publication is apparent on its face, i. e., where the “defamatory innuendo is apparent from the publication itself without reference to extrinsic facts by way of inducement.” Restatement (Second) of Torts § 569, p. 29 (Tent. Draft No. 12, Apr. 27,1966). Libels of this sort and slanders per se continued to be recognized as actionable without proof of special damage or injury to reputation.6 • All other defamations would require proof of special injury in the form of material or pecuniary loss. Whether this asserted change reflected the prevailing law was heavily debated,7 but it was unquestioned at the time that there are recurring situations in which libel and slander are and should be actionable per se.

In surveying the current state of the law, the proposed Restatement (Second) observed that “[a] 11 courts except Virginia agree that any libel which is defamatory upon its face is actionable without proof of damage . . . .” Restatement (Second) of Torts § 569, p. 84 (Tent. Draft No. 11, Apr. 15, 1965). Ten jurisdictions continued to support the old rule that libel not defamatory on its face and whose innuendo depends on extrinsic facts is actionable without proof of damage although slander would not be. Twenty-four jurisdictions were said to hold that libel not defamatory on its face is to be treated like slander and thus not actionable without proof of damage where *375slander would not be. Id., § 569, p. 86. The law in six jurisdictions was found to be in an unsettled state but most likely consistent with the Restatement (Second). Id., § 569, p. 88. The law in Virginia was thought to consider libel actionable without proof of special damage only where slander would be, regardless of whether the libel is defamatory on its face. Id., § 569, p. 89. All States, therefore, were at that time thought to recognize important categories of defamation that were actionable per se.8 Nor was any question apparently raised at that time that upon proof of special damage in the form of material or pecuinary loss, general damages to reputation could be recovered without further proof.

Unquestionably, state law continued to recognize some absolute, as well as some conditional, privileges to publish defamatory materials, including the privilege of fair comment in defined situations. But it remained true that in a wide range of situations, the ordinary citizen could make out a prima facie case without proving more than a defamatory publication and could recover general damages for injury to his reputation unless defeated by the defense of truth.9

The impact of today’s decision on the traditional law of libel is immediately obvious and indisputable. No longer will the plaintiff be able to rest his case with proof of a libel defamatory on its face or proof of a slander historically actionable per se. In addition, he must prove some further degree of culpable conduct on the part of the *376publisher, such as intentional or reckless falsehood or negligence. And if he succeeds in this respect, he faces still another obstacle: recovery for loss of reputation will be conditioned upon “competent” proof of actual injury to his standing in the community. This will be true regardless of the nature of the defamation and even though it is one of those particularly reprehensible statements that have traditionally made slanderous words actionable without proof of fault by the publisher or of the damaging impact of his publication. The Court rejects the judgment of experience that some publications are so inherently capable of injury, and actual injury so difficult to prove, that the risk of falsehood should be borne by the publisher, not the victim. Plainly, with the additional burden on the plaintiff of proving negligence or other fault, it will be exceedingly difficult, perhaps impossible, for him to vindicate his reputation interest by securing a judgment for nominal damages, the practical effect of such a judgment being a judicial declaration that the publication was indeed false. Under the new rule the plaintiff can lose, not because the statement is true, but because it was not negligently made.

So too, the requirement of proving special injury to reputation before general damages may be awarded will clearly eliminate the prevailing rule, worked out over a very long period of time, that, in the case of defama-tions not actionable per se, the recovery of general damages for injury to reputation may also be had if some form of material or pecuniary loss is proved. Finally, an inflexible federal standard is imposed for the award of punitive damages. No longer will it be enough to prove ill will and an attempt to injure.

These are radical changes in the law and severe invasions of the prerogatives of the States. They should *377at least be shown to be required by the First Amendment or necessitated by our present circumstances. Neither has been demonstrated.

Of course, New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964); Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S. 75 (1966), and Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts and Associated Press v. Walker, 388 U. S. 130 (1967), have themselves worked major changes in defamation law. Public officials and public figures, if they are to recover general damages for injury to reputation, must prove knowing falsehood or reckless disregard for the truth. The States were required to conform to these decisions. Thereafter in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29 (1971), three Members of the Court urged that the same standard be applied whenever the publication concerned an event of public or general concern. But none of these cases purported to foreclose in all circumstances recovery by the ordinary citizen on traditional standards of liability, and until today, a majority of the Court had not supported the proposition that, given liability, a court or jury may not award general damages in a reasonable amount without further proof of injury.

In the brief period since Rosenbloom was decided, at least 17 States and several federal courts of appeals have felt obliged to consider the New York Times constitutional privilege for liability as extending to, in the words of the Rosenbloom plurality, “all discussion and communication involving matters of public or general concern.” Id., at 44.10 Apparently, however, general *378damages still remain recoverable once that standard of liability is satisfied. Except where public officials and public figures are concerned, the Court now repudi*379ates the plurality opinion in Rosenbloom and appears to espouse the liability standard set forth by three other Justices in that ease. The States must now struggle to *380discern the meaning of such ill-defined concepts as “liability without fault” and to fashion novel rules for the recovery of damages. These matters have not been briefed or argued by the parties and their workability has not been seriously explored. Nevertheless, yielding to the apparently irresistible impulse to announce a new and different interpretation of the First Amendment, the Court discards history and precedent in its rush to refashion defamation law in accordance with the inclinations of a perhaps evanescent majority of the Justices.

II

The Court does not contend, and it could hardly do so, that those who wrote the First Amendment intended to prohibit the Federal Government, within its sphere of influence in the Territories and the District of Columbia, from providing the private citizen a peaceful remedy for damaging falsehood. At the time of the adoption of the First Amendment, many of the consequences of libel law already described had developed, particularly the rule that libels and some slanders were so inherently injurious that they were actionable without special proof of damage to reputation. As the Court pointed out in Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, 482 (1957), 10 of the 14 States that had ratified the Constitution by 1792 had themselves provided constitutional guarantees for free *381expression, and 13 of the 14 nevertheless provided for the prosecution of libels. Prior to the Revolution, the American Colonies had adopted the common law of libel.11 Contrary to some popular notions, freedom of the press was sharply curtailed in colonial America.12 Seditious libel was punished as a contempt by the colonial legislatures and as a criminal offense in the colonial courts.13

Scant, if any, evidence exists that the First Amendment was intended to abolish the common law of libel, at least to the extent of depriving ordinary citizens of meaningful redress against their defamers. On the contrary,

“[i]t is conceded on all sides that the common-law rules that subjected the libeler to responsibility for the private injury, or the public scandal or disorder occasioned by his conduct, are not abolished by the protection extended to the press in our constitutions.” 2 T. Cooley, Constitutional Limitations 883 (8th ed. 1927).

Moreover, consistent with the Blackstone formula,14 these *382common-law actions did not abridge freedom of the press. See generally L. Levy, Legacy of Suppression: Freedom of Speech and Press in Early American History 247-248 (1960); Merin, Libel and the Supreme Court, 11 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 371, 376 (1969); Hallen, Fair Comment, 8 Tex. L. Rev. 41, 56 (1929). Alexander Meikle-john, who accorded generous reach to the First Amendment, nevertheless acknowledged:

“No one can doubt that, in any well-governed society, the legislature has both the right and the duty to prohibit certain forms of speech. Libelous assertions may be, and must be, forbidden and punished. So too must slander. . . . All these necessities that speech be limited are recognized and provided for under the Constitution. They were not unknown to the writers of the First Amendment. That amendment, then, we may take it for granted, does not forbid the abridging of speech. But, at the same time, it does forbid the abridging of the freedom of speech. It is to the solving of that paradox, that apparent self-contradiction, that we are summoned if, as free men, we wish to know what the right of freedom of speech is.” Political Freedom, The Constitutional Powers of the People 21 (1965).

See also Leflar, The Free-ness of Free Speech, 15 Yand. L. Rev. 1073,1080-1081 (1962).

Professor Zechariah Chafee, a noted First Amendment scholar, has persuasively argued that conditions in 1791 “do not arbitrarily fix the division between lawful and unlawful speech for all time.” Free Speech in the United States 14 (1954).15 At the same time, however, *383he notes that while the Framers may have intended to abolish seditious libels and to prevent any prosecutions by the Federal Government for criticism of the Government,16 “the free speech clauses do not wipe out the common law as to obscenity, profanity, and defamation of individuals.”17

The debates in Congress and the States over the Bill of Rights are unclear and inconclusive on any articulated intention of the Framers as to the free press guarantee.18 We know that Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and William Cushing favored limiting freedom of the press to truthful statements, while others such as James Wilson suggested a restatement of the Blackstone standard.19 *384Jefferson endorsed Madison’s formula that “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech or the press” only after he suggested:

“The people shall not be deprived of their right to speak, to write, or otherwise to publish anything but false facts affecting injuriously the life, liberty, or reputation of others . . . F. Mott, Jefferson and the Press 14 (1943).20

Doubt has been expressed that the Members of Congress envisioned the First Amendment as reaching even this far. Merin, Libel and the Supreme Court, 11 Win. & Mary L. Rev. 371, §379-380 (1969).

This Court in bygone years has repeatedly dealt with libel and slander actions from the District of Columbia and from the Territories. Although in these cases First Amendment considerations were not expressly discussed, the opinions of the Court unmistakably revealed that the classic law of libel was firmly in place in those areas where federal law controlled. See, e. g., Washington Post Co. v. Chaloner, 250 U. S. 290 (1919); Baker v. Warner, 231 U. S. 588 (1913); Nolle v. Oyster, 230 U. S. 165 (1913); Dorr v. United States, 195 U. S. 138 (1904); Pollard v. Lyon, 91 U. S. 225 (1876); White v. Nicholls, 3 How. 266 (1845).

The Court’s consistent view prior to New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), was that defamatory *385utterances were wholly unprotected by the First Amendment. In Patterson v. Colorado ex rel. Attorney General, 205 U. S. 454, 462 (1907), for example, the Court said that although freedom of speech and press is protected from abridgment by the Constitution, these provisions “do not prevent the subsequent punishment of such as may be deemed contrary to the public welfare.” This statement was repeated in Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U. S. 697, 714 (1931), the Court adding:

“But it is recognized that punishment for the abuse of the liberty accorded to the press is essential to the protection of the public, and that the common law rules that subject the libeler to responsibility for the public offense, as well as for the private injury, are not abolished by the protection extended in our constitutions.” Id., at 715.

Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 571-572 (1942) (footnotes omitted), reflected the same view:

“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. These include the lewd and obscene, the profane, the libelous, and the insulting or ‘fighting’ words — those which by their very utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace. It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.”

Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, 254-257 (1952) (footnotes omitted), repeated the Chaplinsky statement, noting also that nowhere at the time of the adoption of *386the Constitution “was there any suggestion that the crime of libel be abolished.” And in Roth v. United States, 354 U. S., at 483 (footnote omitted), the Court further examined the meaning of the First Amendment:

“In light of this history, it is apparent that the unconditional phrasing of the First Amendment was not intended to protect every utterance. This phrasing did not prevent this Court from concluding that libelous utterances are not within the area of constitutionally protected speech. Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, 266. At the time of the adoption of the First Amendment, obscenity law was not as fully developed as libel law, but there is sufficiently contemporaneous evidence to show that obscenity, too, was outside the protection intended for speech and press.” 21

The Court could not accept the generality of this historic view in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra. There the Court held that the First Amendment was intended to forbid actions for seditious libel and that defamation actions by public officials were therefore not subject to the traditional law of libel and slander. If these officials (and, later, public figures occupying semiofficial or influential, although private, positions) were to. recover, they were required to prove not only that the publication was false but also that it was knowingly false or published with reckless disregard for its truth or falsity. This view that the First Amendment was written to for*387bid seditious libel reflected one side of the dispute that raged at the turn of the nineteenth century22 and also mirrored the views of some later scholars.23

The. central meaning of New York Times, and for me the First Amendment as it relates to libel laws, is that seditious libel — criticism of government and public officials — falls beyond the police power of the State. 376 U. S., at 273-276.24 In a democratic society such as ours, the citizen has the privilege of criticizing his government and its officials. But neither New York Times nor its progeny suggest that the First Amendment intended in all circumstances to deprive the private citizen of his historic recourse to redress published falsehoods damaging to reputation or that, contrary to history and precedent, the Amendment should now be so interpreted. Simply put, the First Amendment did not confer a “license to defame the citizen.” W. Douglas, The Right of the People 36 (1958).

I do not labor the foregoing matters to contend that the Court is foreclosed from reconsidering prior interpretations of the First Amendment.25 But the Court apparently finds a clean slate where in fact we have instructive historical experience dating from long before *388the first settlers, with their notions of democratic government and human freedom, journeyed to this land. Given this rich background of history and precedent and because we deal with fundamentals when we construe the First Amendment, we should proceed with care and be presented with more compelling reasons before we jettison the settled law of the States to an even more radical extent.26

Ill

The Court concedes that the dangers of self-censorship are insufficient to override the state interest in protecting the reputation of private individuals who are both more helpless and more deserving of state concern than public persons with more access to the media to defend themselves. It therefore refuses to condition the private plaintiff’s recovery on a showing of intentional or reckless falsehood as required by New York Times. But the Court nevertheless extends the reach of the First Amendment to all defamation actions by requiring that the ordinary *389citizen, when libeled by a publication defamatory on its face, must prove some degree of culpability on the part of the publisher beyond the circulation to the public of a damaging falsehood. A rule at least as strict would be called for where the defamatory character of the publication is not apparent from its face. Ante, at 348.27 Furthermore, if this major hurdle to establish liability is surmounted, the Court requires proof of actual injury to reputation before any damages for such injury may be awarded.

The Court proceeds as though it were writing on tabula rasa and suggests that it must mediate between two unacceptable choices — on the one hand, the rigors of the New York Times rule which the Court thinks would give insufficient recognition to the interest of the private plaintiff, and, on the other hand, the prospect of imposing “liability without fault” on the press and others who are charged with defamatory utterances. Totally ignoring history and settled First Amendment law, the Court purports to arrive at an “equitable compromise,” rejecting both what it considers faultless liability and New York Times malice, but insisting on some intermediate degree of fault. Of course, the Court necessarily discards the contrary judgment arrived at in the 50 States that the reputation interest of the private citizen is deserving of considerably more protection.

The Court evinces a deep-seated antipathy to “liability without fault.” But this catch-phrase has no talismanic significance and is almost meaningless in this context where the Court appears to be addressing those libels and slanders that are defamatory on their face and where *390the publisher is no doubt aware from the nature of the material that it would be inherently damaging to reputation. He publishes notwithstanding, knowing that he will inflict injury. With this knowledge, he must intend to inflict that injury, his excuse being that he is privileged to do so — that he has published the truth. But as it turns out, what he has circulated to the public is a very damaging falsehood. Is he nevertheless “faultless”?Perhaps it can be said that the mistake about his defense was made in good faith, but the fact remains that it is he who launched the publication knowing that it could ruin a reputation.

In these circumstances, the law has heretofore put the risk of falsehood on the publisher where the victim is a private citizen and no grounds of special privilege are invoked. The Court would now shift this risk to the victim, even though he has done nothing to invite the calumny, is wholly innocent of fault, and is helpless to avoid his injury. I doubt that jurisprudential resistance to liability without fault is sufficient ground for employing the First Amendment to revolutionize the law of libel, and in my view, that body of legal rules poses no realistic threat to the press and its service to the public. The press today is vigorous and robust. To me, it is quite incredible to suggest that threats of libel suits from private citizens are causing the press to refrain from publishing the truth. I know of no hard facts to support that proposition, and the Court furnishes none.

The communications industry has increasingly become concentrated in a few powerful hands operating very lucrative businesses reaching across the Nation and into almost every home.28 Neither the industry as a whole nor *391its individual components are easily intimidated, and we are fortunate that they are not. Requiring them to pay for the occasional damage they do to private reputation will play no substantial part in their future performance or their existence.

In any event, if the Court’s principal concern is to protect the communications industry from large libel judgments, it would appear that its new requirements with respect to general and punitive damages would be ample protection. Why it also feels compelled to escalate the threshold standard of liability I cannot fathom, *392particularly when this will eliminate in many instances the plaintiff’s possibility of securing a judicial determination that the damaging publication was indeed false, whether or not he is entitled to recover money damages. Under the Court’s new rules, the plaintiff must prove not only the defamatory statement but also some degree of fault accompanying it. The publication may be wholly false and the wrong to him unjustified, but his case will nevertheless be dismissed for failure to prove negligence or other fault on the part of the publisher. I find it unacceptable to distribute the risk in this manner and force the wholly innocent victim to bear the injury; for, as between the two, the defamer is the only culpable party. It is he who circulated a falsehood that he was not required to publish.

It is difficult for me to understand why the ordinary citizen should himself carry the risk of damage and suffer the injury in order to vindicate First Amendment values by protecting the press and others from liability for circulating false information. This is particularly true because such statements serve no purpose whatsoever in furthering the public interest or the search for truth but, on the contrary, may frustrate that search and at the same time inflict great injury on the defenseless individual. The owners of the press and the stockholders of the communications enterprises can much better bear the burden. And if they cannot, the public at large should somehow pay for what is essentially a public benefit derived at private expense.

IV

A

Not content with escalating the threshold requirements of establishing liability, the Court abolishes the ordinary damages rule, undisturbed by New York Times *393and later cases, that, as to libels or glanders defamatory on their face, injury to reputation is presumed and general damages may be awarded along with whatever special damages may be sought. Apparently because the Court feels that in some unspecified and unknown number of cases, plaintiffs recover where they have suffered no injury or recover more than they deserve, it dismisses this rule as an “oddity of tort law.” The Court thereby refuses in any case to accept the fact of wide dissemination of a per se libel as prima facie proof of injury sufficient to survive a motion to dismiss at the close of plaintiff’s case.

I have said before, but it bears repeating, that even if the plaintiff should recover no monetary damages, he should be able to prevail and have a judgment that the publication is false. But beyond that, courts and legislatures literally for centuries have thought that in the generality of cases, libeled plaintiffs will be seriously shortchanged if they must prove the extent of the injury to their reputations. Even where libels or slanders are not on their face defamatory and special damage must be shown, when that showing is made, general damages for reputation injury are recoverable without specific proof.29

*394The Court is clearly right when at one point it states that “the law of defamation is rooted in our experience that the truth rarely catches up with a lie.” Ante, at 344 n. 9. But it ignores what that experience teaches, viz., that damage to reputation is recurringly difficult to prove and that requiring actual proof would repeatedly destroy any chance for adequate compensation. Eminent authority has warned that

“it is clear that proof of actual damage will be impossible in a great many cases where, from the character of the defamatory words and the circumstances of publication, it is all but certain that serious harm has resulted in fact.” W. Prosser, Law of Torts §112, p. 765 (4th ed. 1971).30

The Court fears uncontrolled awards of damages by juries, but that not only denigrates the good sense of most jurors — it fails to consider the role of trial and appellate courts in limiting excessive jury verdicts where no reasonable relationship exists between the amount awarded and the injury sustained.31 Available informa*395tion tends to confirm that American courts have ably discharged this responsibility.32

The new rule with respect to general damages appears to apply to all libels or slanders, whether defamatory on their face or not, except,-1 gather, when the plaintiff proves intentional falsehood or' reckless disregard. Although the impact of the publication on the victim is the same, in such circumstances the injury to reputation may apparently be presumed in accordance with the traditional rule. Why a defamatory statement is more apt to cause injury if the lie is intentional than when it is only negligent, I fail to understand. I suggest that judges and juries who must live by these rules will find them equally incomprehensible.

B

With a flourish of the pen, the Court also discards the prevailing rule in libel and slander actions that punitive damages may be awarded on the classic grounds of common-law malice, that is, “‘[ajctual malice’ in the sense of ill will or fraud or reckless indifference to con*396sequences.” C. McCormick, Law of Damages § 118, p. 431 (1935); see also W. Prosser, supra, § 113, p. 772; 1 A. Hanson, Libel and Related Torts ¶ 163, p. 133 (1969) ; Note, Developments in the Law — Defamation, 69 Harv. L. Rev. 875, 938 (1956); Cal. Civ. Code §48a(4)(d) (1954). In its stead, the Court requires defamation plaintiffs to show intentional falsehood or reckless disregard for the truth or falsity of the publication. The Court again complains about substantial verdicts and the possibility of press self-censorship, saying that punitive damages are merely “private fines levied by civil juries to punish reprehensible conduct and to deter its future occurrence.” Ante, at 350. But I see no constitutional difference between publishing with reckless disregard for the truth, where punitive damages will be permitted, and negligent publication where they will not be allowed. It is difficult to understand what is constitutionally wrong with assessing punitive damages to deter a publisher from departing from those standards of care ordinarily followed in the publishing industry, particularly if common-law malice is also shown.

I note also the questionable premise that “juries assess punitive damages in wholly unpredictable amounts bearing no necessary relation to the actual harm caused.” Ibid. This represents an inaccurate view of established practice, “another of those situations in which judges, largely unfamiliar with the relatively rare actions for defamation, rely on words without really going behind them . . . .”33 While a jury award in any type of civil case may certainly be unpredictable, trial and appellate courts have been increasingly vigilant in ensuring that the jury’s result is “based upon a rational consideration of the evidence and the proper application of the *397law.” Reynolds v. Pegler, 123 F. Supp. 36, 39 (SDNY 1954), aff’d, 223 F. 2d 429 (CA2), cert. denied, 350 U. S. 846 (1955). See supra, nn. 31-32. Moreover, some courts require that punitive damages bear a reasonable relation to the compensatory damages award.34 Still others bar common-law punitive damages or condition their award on a refusal to print a retraction.35

“The danger ... of immoderate verdicts, is certainly a real one, and the criterion to be applied by the judge in setting or reducing the amount is concededly a vague and subjective one. Nevertheless the verdict may be twice submitted by the complaining defendant to the common sense of trained judicial minds, once on motion for new trial and again on appeal, and it must be a rare instance when an unjustifiable award escapes correction.” C. McCormick, supra, § 77, p. 278.

The Court points to absolutely no empirical evidence to substantiate its premise. For my part, I would require something more substantial than an undifferentiated fear of unduly burdensome punitive damages awards before retooling the established common-law rule and depriving the States of the opportunity to experiment with different methods for guarding against abuses.

Even assuming the possibility that some verdicts will be “excessive,” I cannot subscribe to the Court’s remedy. On its face it is a classic example of judicial overkill. Apparently abandoning the salutary New York Times policy of case-by-case “ 'independent examination of the whole record’ ... so as to assure ourselves that the judgment does not constitute a forbidden intrusion on *398the field of free expression,” 36 the Court substitutes an inflexible rule barring recovery of punitive damages absent proof of constitutional malice. The First Amendment is a majestic statement of a free people’s dedication to “uninhibited, robust, and wide-open” debate on public issues,37 but we do it a grave disservice when we needlessly spend its force.38 For almost 200 years, punitive damages and the First Amendment have peacefully coexisted. There has been no demonstration that state libel laws as they relate to punitive damages necessitate the majority’s extreme response. I fear that those who read the Court’s decision will find its words inaudible, for the Court speaks “only [with] a voice of power, not of reason.” Mapp v. Ohio, 367 U. S. 643, 686 (1961) (Harlan, J., dissenting).

y

In disagreeing with the Court on the First Amendment’s reach in the area of state libel laws protecting nonpublic persons, I do not repudiate the principle that the First-Amendment “rests on the assumption that the widest possible dissemination of information from diverse and antagonistic sources is essential to the welfare of the public, that a free press is a condition of a free society.” Associated Press v. United States, 326 U. S. 1, 20 (1945); see also Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tor-nillo, ante, at 260 (White, J., concurring). I continue to subscribe to the New York Times decision and those decisions extending its protection to defamatory falsehoods about public persons. My quarrel with the Court stems

*399from its willingness “to sacrifice good sense to a syllogism” 39 — to find in the New York Times doctrine an infinite elasticity. Unfortunately, this expansion is the latest manifestation of the destructive potential of any good idea carried out to its logical extreme.

Recovery under common-law standards for defamatory falsehoods about a private individual, who enjoys no “general fame or notoriety in the community,” who is not “pervasive[ly] involve[d] in the affairs of society,” and who does not “thrust himself into the vortex of [a given] public issue ... in an attempt to influence its outcome,” 40 is simply not forbidden by the First Amendment. A distinguished private study group put it this way:

“Accountability, like subjection to law, is not necessarily a net subtraction from liberty.” “The First Amendment was intended to guarantee free expression, not to create a privileged industry.” Commission on Freedom of the Press, A Free and Responsible Press 130, 81 (1947).

I fail to see how the quality or quantity of public debate will be promoted by further emasculation of state libel laws for the benefit of the news media.41 If any*400thing, this trend may provoke a new and radical imbalance in the communications process. Cf. Barron, Access to the Press — A New First Amendment Right, 80 Harv. L. Rev. 1641, 1657 (1967). It is not at all inconceivable that virtually unrestrained defamatory remarks about private citizens will discourage them from speaking out and concerning themselves with social problems. This would turn the First Amendment on its head. Note, The Scope of First Amendment Protection for Good-Faith Defamatory Error, 75 Yale L. J. 642, 649 (1966); Merin, 11 Wm. & Mary L. Rev., at 418. David Riesman, writing in the midst of World War II on the fascists' effective use of defamatory attacks on their oppo-' nents, commented: “Thus it is that the law of libel, with its ecclesiastic background and domestic character, its aura of heart-balm suits and crusading nineteenth-century editors, becomes suddenly important for modern democratic survival.” Democracy and Defamation: Fair Game and Fair Comment I, 42 Col. L. Rev. 1085, 1088 (1942).

This case ultimately comes down to the importance the Court attaches to society’s “pervasive and strong interest in preventing and redressing attacks upon reputation.” Rosenblatt v. Baer, 383 U. S., at 86. From all that I have seen, the Court has miscalculated and denigrates that interest at a time when escalating assaults on individuality and personal dignity counsel otherwise.42 *401At the very least, the issue is highly debatable, and the Court has not carried its heavy burden of proof to justify tampering with state libel laws.43

*402While some risk of exposure “is a concomitant of life in a civilized community,” Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 388 (1967), the private citizen does not bargain for defamatory falsehoods. Nor is society powerless to vindicate unfair injury to his reputation.

“It is a fallacy ... to assume that the First Amendment is the only guidepost in the area of state defamation laws. It is not. . . .
“The right of a man to the protection of his own reputation from unjustified invasion and wrongful hurt reflects no more than our basic concept of the essential dignity and worth of every human being — • a concept at the root of any decent system of ordered liberty. The protection of private personality, like the protection of life itself, is left primarily to the individual States under the Ninth and Tenth Amendments. But this does not mean that the right is entitled to any less recognition by this Court as a basic of our constitutional system.” Rosenblatt v. Baer, supra, at 92 (Stewart, J., concurring).

The case against razing state libel laws is compelling when considered in light of the increasingly prominent role of mass media in our society and the awesome power it has placed in the hands of a select few.44 Surely, our political “system cannot flourish if regimentation takes hold.” Public Utilities Comm’n v. Pollak, 343 U. S. 451, 469 (1952) (Douglas, J., dissenting). Nor can it survive if our people are deprived of an effective method *403of vindicating their legitimate interest in their good names.45

Freedom and human dignity and decency are not antithetical. Indeed, they cannot survive without each other. Both exist side-by-side in precarious balance, one always threatening to overwhelm the other. Our experience as a Nation testifies to the ability of our democratic institutions to harness this dynamic tension. One of the mechanisms seized upon by the common law to accommodate these forces was the civil libel action tried before a jury of average citizens. And it has essentially fulfilled its role. Not because it is necessarily the best or only answer, but because

“the juristic philosophy of the common law is at bottom the philosophy of pragmatism. Its truth is relative, not absolute. The rule that functions well produces a title deed to recognition.” B. Cardozo, Selected Writings 149 (Hall ed. 1947).

In our federal system, there must be room for allowing the States to take diverse approaches to these vexing questions. We should “continue to forbear from fettering the States with an adamant rule which may embarrass them in coping with their own peculiar problems . . . .” Mapp v. Ohio, 367 U. S., at 681 (Harlan, J., dissenting); see also Murnaghan, From Figment to Fiction to Philosophy — The Requirement of Proof of Damages in Libel Actions, 22 Cath. U. L. Rev. 1, 38 (1972). *404Cf. Younger v. Harris, 401 U. S. 37, 44-45 (1971). Whether or not the course followed by the majority is wise, and I have indicated my doubts that it is, our constitutional scheme compels a proper respect for the role of the States in acquitting their duty to obey the Constitution. Finding no evidence that they have shirked this responsibility, particularly when the law of defamation is even now in'transition, I would await some demonstration of the diminution of freedom of expression before acting.

For the foregoing reasons, I would reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals and reinstate the jury's verdict.

1

Restatement of Torts § 559 (1938); see also W. Prosser, Law of Torts § 111, p. 739 (4th ed. 1971); 1 A. Hanson, Libel and Related Torts ¶ 14, pp. 21-22 (1969); 1 F. Harper & F. James, The Law of Torts §5.1, pp. 349-350 (1956).

2

The observations in Part I of this opinion as to the current state of the law of defamation in the various States are partially based upon the Restatement of Torts, first published in 1938, and Tentative Drafts Nos. 11 and 12 of Restatement of Torts (Second), released in 1965 and 1966, respectively. The recent transmittal of Tentative Draft No. 20, dated April 25, 1974, to the American Law Institute for its consideration has resulted in the elimination of much of the discussion of the prevailing defamation rules and the suggested changes in many of the rules themselves previously found in the earlier Tentative Drafts. This development appears to have been largely influenced by the draftsmen’s “sense for where the law of this important subject should be thought to stand.” Restatement (Second) of Torts, p. vii (Tent. Draft No. 20, Apr. 25, 1974). It is evident that, to a large extent, these latest views are colored by the plurality opinion in Rosenbloom v. Metromedia, Inc., 403 U. S. 29 (1971). See, e. g., Restatement (Second) of Torts, swpra, at xiii, §§ 569, 580, 581A, 581B, 621. There is no indication in the latest draft, however, that the conclusions reached in Tentative Drafts Nos. 11 and 12 are not an accurate reflection of the case law in the States in the mid-1960’s prior to the developments occasioned by the plurality opinion in Rosenbloom. See infra, at 374G575.

3

See also W. Prosser, supra, n. 1, § 112, p. 752 and n. 85; Murnag-han, From Figment to Fiction to Philosophy — The Requirement of Proof of Damages in Libel Actions, 22 Cath. U. L. Rev. 1, 11-13 (1972).

4

Proof of the defamation itself established the fact of injury and the existence of some damage to the right of reputation, and the jury was permitted, even without any other evidence, to assess damages that were considered to be the natural or probable consequences of the defamatory words. Restatement of Torts § 621, comment a, p. 314 (1938); see also C. Gatley, Libel and Slander 1004 (6th ed. 1967); M. Newell, Slander and Libel § 721, p. 810 (4th ed. 1924); see generally C. McCormick, Law of Damages § 116, pp. 422-430 (1935). In this respect, therefore, the damages were presumed because of the impossibility of affixing an exact monetary amount for present and future injury to the plaintiff’s reputation, wounded feelings and humiliation, loss of business, and any consequential physical illness or pain. Ibid.

5

See also Prosser, supra, n. 1, § 112, p. 761; Harper & James, supra, n. 1, §5.14, p. 388; Note, Developments in the Law — Defamation, 69 Harv. L. Rev. 875, 939-940 (1956).

6

Also actionable per se were those libels where the imputation, although not apparent from the material itself, would have been slander per se if spoken rather than written.

7

Restatement (Second) of Torts § 569, pp. 29-45, 47-48 (Tent. Draft No. 12, Apr. 27, 1966); see also Murnaghan, supra, n. 3.

8

Applying settled Illinois law, the District Court in this case held that it is libel per se to label someone a Communist, 306 F. Supp. 310 (ND in. 1969).

9

This appears to have been the law in Illinois at the time Gertz brought his libel suit. See, e. g., Brewer v. Hearst Publishing Co., 185 F. 2d 846 (CA7 1950); Hotz v. Alton Telegraph Printing Co., 324 Ill. App. 1, 57 N. E. 2d 137 (1944); Cooper v. Illinois Publishing & Printing Co., 218 Ill. App. 95 (1920).

10

See, e. g., West v. Northern Publishing Co., 487 P. 2d 1304, 1305-1306 (Alaska 1971) (article linking owners of taxicab companies to illegal liquor sales to minors); Gallman v. Carnes, 254 Ark. 987, 992, 497 S. W. 2d 47, 50 (1973) (matter concerning state law school professor and assistant dean); Belli v. Curtis Publishing Co., 25 Cal. App. 3d 384, 102 Cal. Rptr. 122 (1972) (article concerning attorney *378with national reputation); Moriarty v. Lippe, 162 Conn. 371, 378-379, 294 A. 2d 326, 330-331 (1972) (publication about certain police officers); Firestone v. Time, Inc., 271 So. 2d 745, 750-751 (Fla. 1972) (divorce of prominent citizen not a matter of legitimate public concern); State v. Snyder, 277 So. 2d 660, 666-668 (La. 1973) (criminal defamation prosecution of a defeated mayoral candidate for statements made about another candidate); Twohig v. Boston Herald-Traveler Corp., — Mass. —, —, 291 N. E. 2d 398, 400-401 (1973) (article concerning a candidate’s votes in the legislature); Priestley v. Hastings & Sons Publishing Co. of Lynn, 360 Mass. 118, 271 N. E. 2d 628 (1971) (article about an architect commissioned by a town to build a school); Harnish v. Herald-Mail Co., Inc., 264 Md. 326, 334-336, 286 A. 2d 146, 151 (1972) (article concerning substandard rental property owned by a member of a city housing authority); Standke v. B. E. Darby & Sons, Inc., 291 Minn. 468, 476-477, 193 N. W. 2d 139, 145 (1971) (newspaper editorial concerning performance of grand jurors); Whitmore v. Kansas City Star Co., 499 S. W. 2d 45, 49 (Mo. Ct. App. 1973) (article concerning a juvenile officer, the operation of a detention home, and a grand jury investigation); Trails West, Inc. v. Wolff, 32 N. Y. 2d 207, 214-218, 298 N. E. 2d 52, 55-58 (1973) (suit against a Congressman for an investigation into the death of schoolchildren in a bus accident); Twenty-five East 40th Street Restaurant Corp. v. Forbes, Inc., 30 N. Y. 2d 595, 282 N. E. 2d 118 (1972) (magazine article concerning a restaurant’s food); Kent v. City of Buffalo, 29 N. Y. 2d 818, 277 N. E. 2d 669 (1971) (television station film of plaintiff as a captured robber); Frink v. McEldowney, 29 N. Y. 2d 720, 275 N. E. 2d 337 (1971) (article concerning an attorney representing a town); Mead v. Horvitz Publishing Co. (9th Dist. Ohio Ct. App. June 13, 1973) (unpublished), cert. denied, 416 U. S. 985 (1974) (financial condition of participants in the development of a large apartment complex involving numerous local contractors) ; Washington v. World Publishing Co., 506 P. 2d 913 (Okla. 1973) (article about contract dispute between a candidate for United States Senate and his party’s county chairman); Matus v. Triangle Publications, Inc., 445 Pa. 384, 395-399, 286 A. 2d 357, 363-365 (1971) *379(radio “talk show” host’s discussion of gross overcharging for snowplowing a driveway not considered an event of public or general concern) ; Autobuses Internacionales S. De R.L., Ltd. v. El Continental Publishing Co., 483 S. W. 2d 506 (Tex. Ct. Civ. App. 1972) (newspaper article concerning a bus company’s raising of fares -without notice and in violation of law); Sanders v. Harris, 213 Va. 369, 372-373, 192 S. E. 2d 754, 757-758 (1972) (article concerning English professor at a community college); Old Dominion Branch No. 496 v. Austin, 213 Va. 377, 192 S. E. 2d 737 (1972), rev’d, ante, p. 264 (plaintiff’s failure to join a labor union considered not an issue of public or general concern); Chase v. Daily Record, Inc., 83 Wash. 2d 37, 41, 515 P. 2d 154, 156 (1973) (article concerning port district commissioner); Miller v. Argus Publishing Co., 79 Wash. 2d 816, 827, 490 P. 2d 101, 109 (1971) (article concerning the backer of political candidates); Polzin v. Helmbrecht, 54 Wis. 2d 578, 586, 196 N. W. 2d 685, 690 (1972) (letter to editor of newspaper concerning a reporter and the financing of pollution control measures).

The following United States Courts of Appeals have adopted the plurality opinion in Rosenbloom: Cantrell v. Forest City Publishing Co., 484 F. 2d 150 (CA6 1973), cert. pending, No. 73-5520 (article concerning family members of the victim of a highly publicized bridge disaster not actionable absent proof of actual malice); Porter v. Guam Publications, Inc., 475 F. 2d 744, 745 (CA9 1973) (article concerning citizen’s arrest for theft of a cash box considered an event of general or public interest); Cervantes v. Time, Inc., 464 F. 2d 986, 991 (CA8 1972) (article concerning mayor and alleged organized crime connections conceded to be a matter of public or general concern); Firestone v. Time, Inc., 460 F. 2d 712 (CA5 1972) (magazine article concerning prominent citizen’s use of detectives and electronic surveillance in connection with a divorce); Davis v. National Broadcasting Co., 447 F. 2d 981 (CA5 1971), aff’g 320 F. Supp. 1070 (ED La. 1970) (television report about a person caught up in the events surrounding the assassination of President Kennedy considered a matter of public interest). However, at least one Court of Appeals, faced with an appeal from summary judgment in favor of a publisher in a diversity libel suit brought by a Philadelphia retailer, has expressed “discom*380fort in accepting the Rosenbloom plurality opinion as a definitive statement of the appropriate law . . . .” Gordon v. Random House, Inc., 486 F. 2d 1356, 1359 (CA3 1973).

As previously discussed in n. 2, supra, the latest proposed draft of Restatement (Second) of Torts substantially reflects the views of the Rosenbloom plurality. It also anticipates “that the Supreme Court will hold that strict liability for defamation is inconsistent with the free-speech provision of the First Amendment . . . ,” Restatement (Second) of Torts § 569, p. 59 (Tent. Draft No. 20, Apr. 25, 1974), as well as the demise of pre-Rosenbloom damages rules. See id., § 621, pp. 285-288.

11

Merin, Libel and the Supreme Court, 11 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 371, 373 (1969).

12

A. Sutherland, Constitutionalism in America: Origin and Evolution of Its Fundamental Ideas 118-119 (1965).

13

See generally L. Levy, Legacy of Suppression: Freedom of Speech and Press in Early American History (1960).

14

The men who wrote and adopted the First Amendment were steeped in the common-law tradition of England. They read Blackstone, “a classic tradition of the bar in the United States” and “the oracle of the common law in the minds of the American Framers ... .” J. Hurst, The Growth of American Law: The Law Makers 257 (1950); Levy, supra, n. 13, at 13; see also Sutherland, supra, n. 12, at 124-125; Schick v. United States, 195 U. S. 65, 69 (1904). From him they learned that the major means of accomplishing free speech and press was to prevent prior restraints, the publisher later being subject to legal action if his publication was injurious. 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *150-153.

15

See also Meiklejohn, The First Amendment Is An Absolute, 1961 Sup. Ct. Rev. 245, 264:

“First, the Framers initiated a political revolution whose development is still in process throughout the world. Second, like most *383revolutionaries, the Framers could not foresee the specific issues which would arise as their 'novel idea’ exercised its domination over the governing activities of a rapidly developing nation in a rapidly and fundamentally changing world. In that sense, the Framers did not know what they were doing. And in the same sense, it is still true that, after two centuries of experience, we do not know what they were doing, or what we ourselves are now doing.
“In a more abstract and more significant sense, however, both they and we have been aware that the adoption of the principle of self-government by 'The People’ of this nation set loose upon us and upon the world at large an idea which is still transforming men’s conceptions of what they are and how they may best be governed.”

16

See Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250, 272 (1952) (Black, J., dissenting). Brant, who interprets the Framers’ intention more liberally than Chafee, nevertheless saw the free speech protection as bearing upon criticism of government and other political speech. I. Brant, The Bill of Rights 236 (1965).

17

Z. Chafee, Free Speech in the United States 14 (1954).

18

See 1 Annals of Cong. 729-789 (1789). See also Brant, supra, n. 16, at 224; Levy, supra, n. 13, at 214, 224.

19

Merin, supra, n. 11, at 377. Franklin, for example, observed: “If by the Liberty of the Press were understood merely the Liberty of discussing the Propriety of Public Measures and political opinions, let us have as much of it as you please: But if it means the Liberty of affronting, calumniating, and defaming one another, I, for my *384part, own myself willing to part with my Share of it when our Legislators shall please so to alter the Law, and shall cheerfully consent to exchange my Liberty of Abusing others for the Privilege of not being abus’d myself.” 10 B. Franklin, Writings 38 (Smyth ed. 1907).

20

Jefferson’s noted opposition to public prosecutions for libel of government figures did not extend to depriving them of private libel actions. Mott, supra, at 43. There is even a strong suggestion that he favored state prosecutions. E. Hudon, Freedom of Speech and Press in America 47-48 (1963).

21

For further expressions of the general proposition that libels are not protected by the First Amendment, see Konigsberg v. State Bar of California, 366 U. S. 36, 49-50 and n. 10 (1961); Times Film Corp. v. City of Chicago, 365 U. S. 43, 48 (1961); Pennekamp v. Florida, 328 U. S. 331, 348-349 (1946); cf. Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49, 67 (1973); Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557, 561 n. 5 (1969).

22

See Levy, supra, n. 13, at 247-248.

23

See, e. g., Abrams v. United States, 250 U. S. 616, 630 (1919) (Holmes, J., dissenting).

24

Kalven, The New York Times Case: A Note on “The Central Meaning of the First Amendment,” 1964 Sup. Ct. Rev. 191, 208-209.

25

“The language of the First Amendment is to be read not as barren words found in a dictionary but as symbols of historic experience illumined by the presuppositions of those who employed them. ... As in the case of every other provision of the Constitution that is not crystallized by the nature of its technical concepts, the fact that the First Amendment is not self-defining and self-enforcing neither impairs its usefulness nor compels its paralysis as a living instrument.” Dennis v. United States, 341 U. S. 494, 523 (1951) (Frankfurter, J., concurring).

26

“[T]he law of defamation has been an integral part of the laws of England, the colonies and the states since time immemorial. So many actions have been maintained and judgments recovered under the various laws of libel that the Constitutional validity of libel actions could be denied only by a Court willing to hold all of its predecessors were wrong in their interpretation of the First Amendment and that two hundred years of precedents should be overruled.” Rutledge, The Law of Defamation: Recent Developments, 32 Alabama Lawyer 409, 410 (1971).

The prevailing common-law libel rules in this country have remained in England and the Commonwealth nations. Pedrick, Freedom of the Press and the Law of Libel: The Modern Revised Translation, 49 Cornell L. Q. 581, 583-584 (1964). After many years of reviewing the English law of defamation, the Porter Committee concluded that “though the law as to defamation requires some modification, the basic principles upon which it is founded are not amiss.” Report of the Committee on the Law of Defamation, Cmd. No. 7536, ¶ 222, p. 48 (1948).

27

If I read the Court correctly, it clearly implies that for those publications that do not make “substantial danger to reputation apparent/’ the New York Times actual-malice standard will apply. Apparently, this would be true even where the imputation concerned conduct or a condition that would be per se slander.

28

A recent study has comprehensively detailed the role and impact of mass communications in this Nation. See Note, Media and the First Amendment in a Free Society, 60 Geo. L. J. 867 (1972). For example, 99% of the American households have a radio, and 77% *391hear at least one radio newscast daily. In 1970, the yearly average home television viewing time was almost six hours per day. Id., at 883 n. 53.

“Sixty years ago, 2,442 newspapers were published daily nationwide, and 689 cities had competing dailies. Today, in only 42 of the cities served by one of the 1,748 American daily papers is there a competing newspaper under separate ownership. Total daily circulation has passed 62 million copies, but over 40 percent of this circulation is controlled by only 25 ownership groups.
“Newspaper owners have profited greatly from the consolidation of the journalism industry. Several of them report yearly profits in the tens of millions of dollars, with after tax profits ranging from seven to 14 percent of gross revenues. Unfortunately, the owners have made their profits at the expense of the public interest in free expression. As the broad base of newspaper ownership narrows, the variation of facts and opinions received by the public from antagonistic sources is increasingly limited. Newspaper publication is indeed a leading American industry. Through its evolution in this direction, the press has come to be dominated by a select group whose prime interest is economic.
“The effect of consolidation within the newspaper industry is magnified by the degree of intermedia ownership. Sixty-eight cities have a radio station owned by the only local daily newspaper, and 160 television stations have newspaper affiliations. In 11 cities diversity of ownership is completely lacking with the only television station and newspaper under the same control.” Id., at 892-893 (footnotes omitted).

See also Congress, FCC Consider Newspaper Control of Local TV, 32 Cong. Q. 659-663 (1974).

29

Having held that the defamation plaintiff is limited to recovering for “actual injury," the Court hastens to add:

“Suffice it to say that actual injury is not limited to out-of-pocket loss. Indeed, the more customary types of actual harm inflicted by defamatory falsehood include impairment of reputation and standing in the community, personal humiliation, and mental anguish and suffering.” Ante, at 350.

It should be pointed out that under the prevailing law, where the defamation is not actionable per se and proof of “special damage” is required, a showing of actual injury to reputation is insufficient; but if pecuniary loss is shown, general reputation damages are recoverable. The Court changes the latter, but not the former, rule. Also under present law, pain and suffering, although shown, do not *394warrant damages in any defamation action unless the plaintiff is otherwise entitled to at least nominal damages. By imposing a more difficult standard of liability and requiring proof of actual damage to reputation, recovery for pain and suffering, though real, becomes a much more remote possibility.

30

“The harm resulting from an injury to reputation is difficult to demonstrate both because it may involve subtle differences in the conduct of the recipients toward the plaintiff and because the recipients, the only witnesses able to establish the necessary causal connection, may be reluctant to testify that the publication affected their relationships with the plaintiff. Thus some presumptions are necessary if the plaintiff is to be adequately compensated.” Note, Developments in the Law — Defamation, 69 Harv. L. Rev. 875, 891-892 (1956).

31

“On questions of damages, the judge plays an important role. It is, of course, for him to determine and instruct the jury as to what matters may be taken into consideration by them in arriving *395at a verdict since such questions are clearly matters of substantive law. But the judge also may and frequently does exercise a judgment as to the amount of damages the plaintiff may recover. His function here is primarily to keep the jury within bounds of reason and common sense, to guard against excessive verdicts dictated by passion and prejudice and to see to it that the amount of the verdict has some reasonable relation to the plaintiff's evidence as to his loss or the probability of loss. Thus, the trial judge may grant a new trial or the appellate court may reverse and remand the case for a new trial because of excessive damages or, as is more frequently the case, a remittitur may be ordered, the effect of which is that the plaintiff must accept a specified reduction of his damages or submit to a new trial on the issue of liability as well as damages.” 1 F. Harper & F. James, The Law of Torts § 5.29, p. 467 (1956) (footnote omitted).

32

See Pedrick, supra, n. 26, at 587 n. 23.

33

Murnaghan, supra, n. 3, at 29.

34

Note, Developments in the Law — Defamation, 69 Harv. L. Rev., supra, at 875, 938 and n. 443.

35

Id., at 939, 941-942. See, e. g., Cal. Civ. Code § 48a (2) (1954).

36

376 U. S., at 285.

37

Id., at 270.

38

Judicial review of jury libel awards for excessiveness should be influenced by First Amendment considerations, but it makes little sense to discard an otherwise useful and time-tested rule because it might be misapplied in a few cases.

39

O. Holmes, The Common Law 36 (1881).

40

Ante, at 351, 352.

41

Cf. Pedrick, supra, n. 26, at 601-602:

"A great many forces in our society operate to determine the extent to which men are free in fact to express their ideas. Whether there is a privilege for good faith defamatory misstatements on matters of public concern or whether there is strict liability for such statements may not greatly affect the course of public discussion. How different has life been in those states which heretofore followed the majority rule imposing strict liability for misstatements of fact defaming public figures from life in the minority states where the good faith privilege held sway?”

See also T. Emerson, The System of Freedom of Expression 519 (1970) (footnote omitted): “[0]n the whole the role of libel law in *400the system of freedom of expression has been relatively minor and essentially erratic.”

42

“The man who is compelled to live every minute of his life among others and whose every need, thought, desire, fancy or gratification is subject to public scrutiny, has been deprived of his individuality and human dignity. Such an individual merges with the mass. His opinions, being public, tend never to be different; his aspirations, being known, tend always to be conventionally accepted ones; his feelings, being openly exhibited, tend to lose their *401quality of unique personal warmth and to become the feelings of every man. Such a being, although sentient, is fungible; he is not an individual.” Bloustein, Privacy as an Aspect of Human Dignity: An Answer to Dean Prosser, 39 N. Y. U. L. Rev. 962, 1003 (1964).

43

With the evisceration of the common-law libel remedy for the private citizen, the Court removes from his legal arsenal the most effective weapon to combat assault on personal reputation by the press establishment. The David and Goliath nature of this relationship is all the more accentuated by the Court’s holding today in Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, ante, p. 241, which I have joined, that an individual criticized by a newspaper’s editorial is precluded by the First Amendment from requiring that newspaper to print his reply to that attack. While that case involves an announced candidate for public office, the Court’s finding of a First-Amendment barrier to government “intrusion into the function of editors,” ante, at 258, does not rest on any distinction between private citizens or public officials. In fact, the Court observes that the First Amendment clearly protects from governmental restraint “the exercise of editorial control and judgment,” i. e., “[t]he choice of material to go into a newspaper, and the decisions made as to limitations on the size and content of the paper, and treatment of 'public issues and public officials — whether fair or unfair . . . .” Ibid. (Emphasis added.)

We must, therefore, assume that the hapless ordinary citizen libeled by the press (a) may not enjoin in advance of publication a story about him, regardless of how libelous it may be, Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U. S. 697 (1931); (b) may not compel the newspaper to print his reply; and (e) may not force the newspaper to print a retraction, because a judicially compelled retraction, like a “remedy such as an enforceable right of access,” entails “governmental coercion” as to content, which “at once brings about a confrontation with the express provisions of the First Amendment and the judicial gloss on that Amendment developed over the years.” Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, ante, at 254; but cf. this case, ante, at 368 n. 3 (Brennan, J., dissenting).

My Brother Brennan also suggests that there may constitutionally be room for “the possible enactment of statutes, not requiring proof *402of fault, which provide . . . for publication of a court’s determination of falsity if the plaintiff is able to demonstrate that false statements have been published concerning his activities.” Ibid. The Court, however, does not even consider this less drastic alternative to its new “some fault” libel standards.

44

See n. 28, supra.

45

“No democracy, . . . certainly not the American democracy, will indefinitely tolerate concentrations of private power irresponsible and strong enough to thwart the aspirations of the people. Eventually governmental power will be used to break up private power, or governmental power will be used to regulate private power— if private power is at once great and irresponsible.” Commission on Freedom of the Press, A Free and Responsible Press 80 (1947).

15.23 Buckley v. Valeo 15.23 Buckley v. Valeo

424 U.S. 1
96 S.Ct. 612
46 L.Ed.2d 659
James L. BUCKLEY et al., Appellants,

v.

Francis R. VALEO, Secretary of the United States Senate, et al. (two cases).

Nos. 75-436 and 75-437.
Argued Nov. 10, 1975.
Decided Jan. 30, 1976.
Motion Granted Feb. 27, 1976.

                            See 424 U.S. 936, 96 S.Ct. 1153.

Syllabus

          The Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (Act), as amended in 1974, (a) limits political contributions to candidates for federal elective office by an individual or a group to $1,000 and by a political committee to $5,000 to any single candidate per election, with an overall annual limitation of $25,000 by an individual contributor; (b) limits expenditures by individuals or groups "relative to a clearly identified candidate" to $1,000 per candidate per election, and by a candidate from his personal or family funds to various specified annual amounts depending upon the federal office sought, and restricts overall general election and primary campaign expenditures by candidates to various specified amounts, again depending upon the federal office sought; (c) requires political committees to keep detailed records of contributions and expenditures, including the name and address of each individual contributing in excess of $10, and his occupation and

Page 2

principal place of business if his contribution exceeds $100, and to file quarterly reports with the Federal Election Commission disclosing the source of every contribution exceeding $100 and the recipient and purpose of every expenditure over $100, and also requires every individual or group, other than a candidate or political committee, making contributions or expenditures exceeding $100 "other than by contribution to a political committee or candidate" to file a statement with the Commission; and (d) creates the eight-member Commission as the administering agency with recordkeeping, disclosure, and investigatory functions and extensive rulemaking, adjudicatory, and enforcement powers, and consisting of two members appointed by the President pro tempore of the Senate, two by the Speaker of the House, and two by the President (all subject to confirmation by both Houses of Congress), and the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House as ex officio nonvoting members. Subtitle H of the Internal Revenue Code of 1954 (IRC), as amended in 1974, provides for public financing of Presidential nominating conventions and general election and primary campaigns from general revenues and allocates such funding to conventions and general election campaigns by establishing three categories: (1) "major" parties (those whose candidate received 25% Or more of the vote in the most recent election), which receive full funding; (2) "minor" parties (those whose candidate received at least 5% But less than 25% Of the votes at the last election), which receive only a percentage of the funds to which the major parties are entitled; and (3) "new" parties (all other parties), which are limited to receipt of post-election funds or are not entitled to any funds if their candidate receives less than 5% Of the vote. A primary candidate for the Presidential nomination by a political party who receives more than $5,000 from private sources (counting only the first $250 of each contribution) in each of at least 20 States is eligible for matching public funds. Appellants (various federal officeholders and candidates, supporting political organizations, and others) brought suit against appellees (the Secretary of the Senate, Clerk of the House, Comptroller General, Attorney General, and the Commission) seeking declaratory and injunctive relief against the above statutory provisions on various constitutional grounds. The Court of Appeals, on certified questions from the District Court, upheld all but one of the statutory provisions. A three-judge District Court upheld the constitutionality of Subtitle H. Held :

Page 3

          1. This litigation presents an Art. III "case or controversy," since the complaint discloses that at least some of the appellants have a sufficient "personal stake" in a determination of the constitutional validity of each of the challenged provisions to present "a real and substantial controversy admitting of specific relief through a decree of a conclusive character, as distinguished from an opinion advising what the law would be upon a hypothetical state of facts." Aetna Life Ins. Co. v. Haworth, 300 U.S. 227, 241, 57 S.Ct. 461, 464, 81 L.Ed. 617. P. 11-12.

          2. The Act's contribution provisions are constitutional, but the expenditure provisions violate the First Amendment. Pp. 12-59.

          (a) The contribution provisions, along with those covering disclosure, are appropriate legislative weapons against the reality or appearance of improper influence stemming from the dependence of candidates on large campaign contributions, and the ceilings imposed accordingly serve the basic governmental interest in safeguarding the integrity of the electoral process without directly impinging upon the rights of individual citizens and candidates to engage in political debate and discussion. Pp. 23-38.

          (b) The First Amendment requires the invalidation of the Act's independent expenditure ceiling, its limitation on a candidate's expenditures from his own personal funds, and its ceilings on overall campaign expenditures, since those provisions place substantial and direct restrictions on the ability of candidates, citizens, and associations to engage in protected political expression, restrictions that the First Amendment cannot tolerate. Pp. 39-59.

          3. The Act's disclosure and recordkeeping provisions are constitutional. Pp. 60-84.

          (a) The general disclosure provisions, which serve substantial governmental interests in informing the electorate and preventing the corruption of the political process, are not overbroad insofar as they apply to contributions to minor parties and independent candidates. No blanket exemption for minor parties is warranted since such parties in order to prove injury as a result of application to them of the disclosure provisions need show only a reasonable probability that the compelled disclosure of a party's contributors' names will subject them to threats, harassment, or reprisals in violation of their First Amendment associational rights. Pp. 64-74.

          (b) The provision for disclosure by those who make inde-

Page 4

pendent contributions and expenditures, as narrowly construed to apply only (1) when they make contributions earmarked for political purposes or authorized or requested by a candidate or his agent to some person other than a candidate or political committee and (2) when they make an expenditure for a communication that expressly advocates the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate is not unconstitutionally vague and does not constitute a prior restraint but is a reasonable and minimally restrictive method of furthering First Amendment values by public exposure of the federal election system. Pp. 74-82.

          (c) The extension of the recordkeeping provisions to contributions as small as those just above $10 and the disclosure provisions to contributions above $100 is not on this record overbroad since it cannot be said to be unrelated to the informational and enforcement goals of the legislation. Pp. 82-84.

          4. Subtitle H of the IRC is constitutional. Pp. 85-109.

          (a) Subtitle H is not invalid under the General Welfare Clause but, as a means to reform the electoral process, was clearly a choice within the power granted to Congress by the Clause to decide which expenditures will promote the general welfare. Pp. 90-92.

          (b) Nor does Subtitle H violate the First Amendment. Rather than abridging, restricting, or censoring speech, it represents an effort to use public money to facilitate and enlarge public discussion and participation in the electoral process. Pp. 92-93.

          (c) Subtitle H, being less burdensome than ballot-access regulations and having been enacted in furtherance of vital governmental interests in relieving major-party candidates from the rigors of soliciting private contributions, in not funding candidates who lack significant public support, and in eliminating reliance on large private contributions for funding of conventions and campaigns, does not invidiously discriminate against minor and new parties in violation of the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment. Pp. 93-108.

          (d) Invalidation of the spending-limit provisions of the Act does not render Subtitle H unconstitutional, but the Subtitle is severable from such provisions and is not dependent upon the existence of a generally applicable expenditure limit. Pp. 108-109.

          5. The Commission's composition as to all but its investigative and informative powers violates Art. II, § 2, cl. 2. With respect to the Commission's powers, all of which are ripe for review,

Page 5

to enforce the Act, including primary responsibility for bringing civil actions against violators, to make rules for carrying out the Act, to temporarily disqualify federal candidates for failing to file required reports, and to authorize convention expenditures in excess of the specified limits, the provisions of the Act vesting such powers in the Commission and the prescribed method of appointment of members of the Commission to the extent that a majority of the voting members are appointed by the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House, violate the Appointments Clause, which provides in pertinent part that the President shall nominate, and with the Senate's advice and consent appoint, all "Officers of the United States," whose appointments are not otherwise provided for, but that Congress may vest the appointment of such inferior officers, as it deems proper, in the President alone, in the courts, or in the heads of departments. Hence (though the Commission's past acts are accorded de facto validity and a stay is granted permitting it to function under the Act for not more than 30 days), the Commission, as presently constituted, may not because of that Clause exercise such powers, which can be exercised only by "Officers of the United States" appointed in conformity with the Appointments Clause, although it may exercise such investigative and informative powers as are in the same category as those powers that Congress might delegate to one of its own committees. Pp. 109-143.

          171 U.S.App.D.C. 172, 519 F.2d 821, affirmed in part and reversed in part; D.C., 401 F.Supp. 1235, affirmed.

          Ralph K. Winter, Jr., New Haven, Conn., pro hac vice, by special leave of Court, Joel M. Gora, New York City,

Page 6

Brice M. Clagett, Washington, D.C., for appellants.

          Daniel M. Friedman, Washington, D.C., Archibald Cox, Cambridge, Mass., Lloyd N. Cutler, Washington, D.C., Ralph S. Spritzer, Philadelphia, Pa., for appellees.

           PER CURIAM.

          These appeals present constitutional challenges to the key provisions of the Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (Act), and related provisions of the Internal Revenue Code of 1954, all as amended in 1974.1

Page 7

          The Court of Appeals, in sustaining the legislation in large part against various constitutional challenges,2 viewed it as "by far the most comprehensive reform legislation (ever) passed by Congress concerning the election of the President, Vice-President, and members of Congress." 171 U.S.App.D.C. 172, 182, 519 F.2d 821, 831 (1975). The statutes at issue summarized in broad terms, contain the following provisions: (a) individual political contributions are limited to $1,000 to any single candidate per election, with an overall annual limitation of $25,000 by any contributor; independent expenditures by individuals and groups "relative to a clearly identified candidate" are limited to $1,000 a year; campaign spending by candidates for various federal offices and spending for national conventions by political parties are subject to prescribed limits; (b) contributions and expenditures above certain threshold levels must be reported and publicly disclosed; (c) a system for public funding of Presidential campaign activities is established by Subtitle H of the Internal Revenue Code; 3 and (d) a Federal Election Commission is established to administer and enforce the legislation.

          This suit was originally filed by appellants in the United States District Court for the District of Columbia. Plaintiffs included a candidate for the Presidency of the United States, a United States Senator who is a candidate for re-election, a potential contributor, the

Page 8

Committee for a Constitutional Presidency McCarthy '76, the Conservative Party of the State of New York, the Mississippi Republican Party, the Libertarian Party, the New York Civil Liberties Union, Inc., the American Conservative Union, the Conservative Victory Fund, and Human Events, Inc. The defendants included the Secretary of the United States Senate and the Clerk of the United States House of Representatives, both in their official capacities and as ex officio members of the Federal Election Commission. The Commission itself was named as a defendant. Also named were the Attorney General of the United States and the Comptroller General of the United States.

          Jurisdiction was asserted under 28 U.S.C. §§ 1331, 2201, and 2202, and § 315(a) of the Act, 2 U.S.C. § 437h(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV).4 The complaint sought both a

Page 9

declaratory judgment that the major provisions of the Act were unconstitutional and an injunction against enforcement of those provisions. Appellants requested the convocation of a three-judge District Court as to all matters and also requested certification of constitutional questions to the Court of Appeals, pursuant to the terms of § 315(a). The District Judge denied the application for a three-judge court and directed that the case be transmitted to the Court of Appeals. That court entered an order stating that the case was "preliminarily deemed" to be properly certified under § 315(a). Leave to intervene was granted to various groups and individuals.5 After considering matters regarding factfinding procedures, the Court of Appeals entered an order en banc remanding the case to the District Court to (1) identify the constitutional issues in the complaint; (2) take whatever evidence was found necessary in addition to the submissions suitably dealt with by way of judicial notice; (3) make findings of fact with reference to those issues; and (4) certify the constitutional questions arising from the foregoing steps to the Court of Appeals.6 On remand, the District

Page 10

Judge entered a memorandum order adopting extensive findings of fact and transmitting the augmented record back to the Court of Appeals.

          On plenary review, a majority of the Court of Appeals rejected, for the most part, appellants' constitutional attacks. The court found "a clear and compelling interest," 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 192, 519 F.2d, at 841, in preserving the integrity of the electoral process. On that basis, the court upheld, with one exception,7 the substantive provisions of the Act with respect to contributions, expenditures, and disclosure. It also sustained the constitutionality of the newly established Federal Election Commission. The court concluded that, notwithstanding the manner of selection of its members and the breadth of its powers, which included nonlegislative functions, the Commission is a constitutionally authorized agency created to perform primarily legislative functions.8

Page 11

The provisions for public funding of the three stages of the Presidential selection process were upheld as a valid exercise of congressional power under the General Welfare Clause of the Constitution, Art. I, § 8.

          In this Court, appellants argue that the Court of Appeals failed to give this legislation the critical scrutiny demanded under accepted First Amendment and equal protection principles. In appellants' view, limiting the use of money for political purposes constitutes a restriction on communication violative of the First Amendment, since virtually all meaningful political communications in the modern setting involve the expenditure of money. Further, they argue that the reporting and disclosure provisions of the Act unconstitutionally impinge on their right to freedom of association. Appellants also view the federal subsidy provisions of Subtitle H as violative of the General Welfare Clause, and as inconsistent with the First and Fifth Amendments. Finally, appellants renew their attack on the Commission's composition and powers.

          At the outset we must determine whether the case before us presents a "case or controversy" within the meaning of Art. III of the Constitution. Congress may not, of course, require this Court to render opinions in matters which are not "cases or controversies." Aetna Life Ins. Co. v. Haworth, 300 U.S. 227, 240-241, 57 S.Ct. 461, 463-464, 81 L.Ed. 617 (1937). We must therefore decide whether appellants have the "personal stake in the outcome of the controversy" necessary to meet the requirements of Art. III. Baker v. Carr, 369 U.S. 186, 204, 82 S.Ct. 691, 703, 7 L.Ed.2d 663 (1962). It is clear that Congress, in en-

Page 12

acting 2 U.S.C. § 437h (1970 ed., Supp. IV),9 intended to provide judicial review to the extent permitted by Art. III. In our view, the complaint in this case demonstrates that at least some of the appellants have a sufficient "personal stake" 10 in a determination of the constitutional validity of each of the challenged provisions to present "a real and substantial controversy admitting of specific relief through a decree of a conclusive character, as distinguished from an opinion advising what the law would be upon a hypothetical state of facts." Aetna Life Ins. Co. v. Haworth, supra, 300 U.S. at 241, 57 S.Ct. at 464.11

                  I. CONTRIBUTION AND EXPENDITURE LIMITATIONS

          The intricate statutory scheme adopted by Congress to regulate federal election campaigns includes restric-

Page 13

tions on political contributions and expenditures that apply broadly to all phases of and all participants in the election process. The major contribution and expenditure limitations in the Act prohibit individuals from contributing more than $25,000 in a single year or more than $1,000 to any single candidate for an election campaign 12 and from spending more than $1,000 a year "relative to a clearly identified candidate." 13 Other provisions restrict a candidate's use of personal and family resources in his campaign 14 and limit the overall amount that can be spent by a candidate in campaigning for federal office.15

          The constitutional power of Congress to regulate federal elections is well established and is not questioned by any of the parties in this case.16 Thus, the critical con-

Page 14

stitutional questions presented here go not to the basic power of Congress to legislate in this area, but to whether the specific legislation that Congress has enacted interferes with First Amendment freedoms or invidiously discriminates against nonincumbent candidates and minor parties in contravention of the Fifth Amendment.

A. General Principles

          The Act's contribution and expenditure limitations operate in an area of the most fundamental First Amendment activities. Discussion of public issues and debate on the qualifications of candidates are integral to the operation of the system of government established by our Constitution. The First Amendment affords the broadest protection to such political expression in order "to assure (the) unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of political and social changes desired by the people." Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 484, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1308, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957). Although First Amendment protections are not confined to "the exposition of ideas," Winters v. New York, 333 U.S. 507, 510, 68 S.Ct. 665, 667, 92 L.Ed. 840 (1948), "there is practically universal agreement that a major purpose of that Amendment was to protect the free discussion of governmental affairs. . . . of course includ(ing) discussions of candidates . . . ." Mills v. Alabama, 384 U.S. 214, 218, 86 S.Ct. 1434, 1437, 16 L.Ed.2d 484 (1966). This no more than reflects our "profound national commitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open," New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 270, 84 S.Ct. 710, 721, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964). In a republic where the people are sovereign, the ability of the citizenry to make informed choices among candi-

Page 15

dates for office is essential, for the identities of those who are elected will inevitably shape the course that we follow as a nation. As the Court observed in Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U.S. 265, 272, 91 S.Ct. 621, 625, 28 L.Ed.2d 35 (1971), "it can hardly be doubted that the constitutional guarantee has its fullest and most urgent application precisely to the conduct of campaigns for political office."

          The First Amendment protects political association as well as political expression. The constitutional right of association explicated in NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U.S. 449, 460, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 1170, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488 (1958), stemmed from the Court's recognition that "(e)ffective advocacy of both public and private points of view, particularly controversial ones, is undeniably enhanced by group association." Subsequent decisions have made clear that the First and Fourteenth Amendments guarantee " 'freedom to associate with others for the common advancement of political beliefs and ideas,' " a freedom that encompasses " '(t)he right to associate with the political party of one's choice.' " Kusper v. Pontikes, 414 U.S. 51, 56, 57, 94 S.Ct. 303, 307, 38 L.Ed.2d 260 (1973), quoted in Cousins v. Wigoda, 419 U.S. 477, 487, 95 S.Ct. 541, 547, 42 L.Ed.2d 595 (1975).

          It is with these principles in mind that we consider the primary contentions of the parties with respect to the Act's limitations upon the giving and spending of money in political campaigns. Those conflicting contentions could not more sharply define the basic issues before us. Appellees contend that what the Act regulates is conduct, and that its effect on speech and association is incidental at most. Appellants respond that contributions and expenditures are at the very core of political speech, and that the Act's limitations thus constitute restraints on First Amendment liberty that are both gross and direct.

          In upholding the constitutional validity of the Act's contribution and expenditure provisions on the ground

Page 16

that those provisions should be viewed as regulating conduct, not speech, the Court of Appeals relied upon United States v. O'Brien, 391 U.S. 367, 88 S.Ct. 1673, 20 L.Ed.2d 672 (1968). See 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 191, 519 F.2d, at 840. The O'Brien case involved a defendant's claim that the First Amendment prohibited his prosecution for burning his draft card because his act was " 'symbolic speech' " engaged in as a " 'demonstration against the war and against the draft.' " 391 U.S., at 376, 88 S.Ct., at 1678. On the assumption that "the alleged communicative element in O'Brien's conduct (was) sufficient to bring into play the First Amendment," the Court sustained the conviction because it found "a sufficiently important governmental interest in regulating the nonspeech element" that was "unrelated to the suppression of free expression" and that had an "incidental restriction on alleged First Amendment freedoms . . . no greater than (was) essential to the furtherance of that interest." Id., at 376-377, 88 S.Ct., at 1678. The Court expressly emphasized that O'Brien was not a case "where the alleged governmental interest in regulating conduct arises in some measure because the communication allegedly integral to the conduct is itself thought to be harmful." Id., at 382, 88 S.Ct., at 1682.

          We cannot share the view that the present Act's contribution and expenditure limitations are comparable to the restrictions on conduct upheld in O'Brien. The expenditure of money simply cannot be equated with such conduct as destruction of a draft card. Some forms of communication made possible by the giving and spending of money involve speech alone, some involve conduct primarily, and some involve a combination of the two. Yet this Court has never suggested that the dependence of a communication on the expenditure of money operates itself to introduce a nonspeech element or to reduce the exacting scrutiny required by the First Amendment. See Bigelow v. Virginia, 421 U.S. 809,

Page 17

820, 95 S.Ct. 2222, 2231, 44 L.Ed.2d 600 (1975); New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra, 376 U.S., at 266, 84 S.Ct., at 718. For example, in Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 559, 85 S.Ct. 476, 13 L.Ed.2d 487 (1965), the Court contrasted picketing and parading with a newspaper comment and a telegram by a citizen to a public official. The parading and picketing activities were said to constitute conduct "intertwined with expression and association," whereas the newspaper comment and the telegram were described as a "pure form of expression" involving "free speech alone" rather than "expression mixed with particular conduct." Id., at 563-564, 85 S.Ct., at 480-481.

          Even if the categorization of the expenditure of money as conduct were accepted, the limitations challenged here would not meet the O'Brien test because the governmental interests advanced in support of the Act involve "suppressing communication." The interests served by the Act include restricting the voices of people and interest groups who have money to spend and reducing the overall scope of federal election campaigns. Although the Act does not focus on the ideas expressed by persons or groups subject to its regulations, it is aimed in part at equalizing the relative ability of all voters to affect electoral outcomes by placing a ceiling on expenditures for political expression by citizens and groups. Unlike O'Brien, where the Selective Service System's administrative interest in the preservation of draft cards was wholly unrelated to their use as a means of communication, it is beyond dispute that the interest in regulating the alleged "conduct" of giving or spending money "arises in some measure because the communication allegedly integral to the conduct is itself thought to be harmful." 391 U.S., at 382, 88 S.Ct., at 1682.

          Nor can the Act's contribution and expenditure limitations be sustained, as some of the parties suggest, by reference to the constitutional principles reflected in such

Page 18

decisions as Cox v. Louisiana, supra; Adderley v. Florida, 385 U.S. 39, 87 S.Ct. 242, 17 L.Ed.2d 149 (1966); and Kovacs v. Cooper, 336 U.S. 77, 69 S.Ct. 448, 93 L.Ed. 513 (1949). Those cases stand for the proposition that the government may adopt reasonable time, place, and manner regulations, which do not discriminate among speakers or ideas, in order to further an important governmental interest unrelated to the restriction of communication. See Erznoznik v. City of Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 209, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 2272, 45 L.Ed.2d 125 (1975). In contrast to O'Brien, where the method of expression was held to be subject to prohibition, Cox, Adderley, and Kovacs involved place or manner restrictions on legitimate modes of expression picketing, parading, demonstrating, and using a soundtruck. The critical difference between this case and those time, place, and manner cases is that the present Act's contribution and expenditure limitations impose direct quantity restrictions on political communication and association by persons, groups, candidates, and political parties in addition to any reasonable time, place, and manner regulations otherwise imposed.17

Page 19

          [12] A restriction on the amount of money a person or group can spend on political communication during a campaign necessarily reduces the quantity of expression by restricting the number of issues discussed, the depth of their exploration, and the size of the audience reached.18 This is because virtually every means of communicating ideas in today's mass society requires the expenditure of money. The distribution of the humblest handbill or leaflet entails printing, paper, and circulation costs. Speeches and rallies generally necessitate hiring a hall and publicizing the event. The electorate's increasing dependence on television, radio, and other mass media for news and information has made these expensive modes of communication indispensable instruments of effective political speech.

          The expenditure limitations contained in the Act represent substantial rather than merely theoretical restraints on the quantity and diversity of political speech. The $1,000 ceiling on spending "relative to a clearly identified candidate," 18 U.S.C. § 608(e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), would appear to exclude all citizens and groups except candidates, political parties, and the institutional press 19 from any significant use of the most

Page 20

effective modes of communication.20 Although the Act's limitations on expenditures by campaign organizations and political parties provide substantially greater room for discussion and debate, they would have required restrictions in the scope of a number of past congressional and Presidential campaigns 21 and would operate to constrain campaigning by candidates who raise sums in excess of the spending ceiling.

          By contrast with a limitation upon expenditures for political expression, a limitation upon the amount that any one person or group may contribute to a candidate or political committee entails only a marginal restriction upon the contributor's ability to engage in free com-

Page 21

munication. A contribution serves as a general expression of support for the candidate and his views, but does not communicate the underlying basis for the support. The quantity of communication by the contributor does not increase perceptibly with the size of his contribution, since the expression rests solely on the undifferentiated, symbolic act of contributing. At most, the size of the contribution provides a very rough index of the intensity of the contributor's support for the candidate.22 A limitation on the amount of money a person may give to a candidate or campaign organization thus involves little direct restraint on his political communication, for it permits the symbolic expression of support evidenced by a contribution but does not in any way infringe the contributor's freedom to discuss candidates and issues. While contributions may result in political expression if spent by a candidate or an association to present views to the voters, the transformation of contributions into political debate involves speech by someone other than the contributor.

          Given the important role of contributions in financing political campaigns, contribution restrictions could have a severe impact on political dialogue if the limitations prevented candidates and political committees from amassing the resources necessary for effective advocacy. There is no indication, however, that the contribution limitations imposed by the Act would have any dramatic adverse effect on the funding of campaigns and political associations.23 The overall effect of the Act's contribu-

Page 22

tion ceilings is merely to require candidates and political committees to raise funds from a greater number of persons and to compel people who would otherwise contribute amounts greater than the statutory limits to expend such funds on direct political expression, rather than to reduce the total amount of money potentially available to promote political expression.

          The Act's contribution and expenditure limitations also impinge on protected associational freedoms. Making a contribution, like joining a political party, serves to affiliate a person with a candidate. In addition, it enables like-minded persons to pool their resources in furtherance of common political goals. The Act's contribution ceilings thus limit one important means of associating with a candidate or committee, but leave the contributor free to become a member of any political association and to assist personally in the association's efforts on behalf of candidates. And the Act's contribution limitations permit associations and candidates to aggregate large sums of money to promote effective advocacy. By contrast, the Act's $1,000 limitation on independent expenditures "relative to a clearly identified candidate" precludes most associations from effectively amplifying the voice of their adherents, the original basis for the recognition of First Amendment protection of the freedom of association. See NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U.S., at 460, 78 S.Ct., at 1171. The Act's constraints on the ability of independent associations and candidate campaign organizations to expend resources on political expression "is simultaneously an interference with the freedom of (their) adherents," Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U.S. 234, 250, 77 S.Ct. 1203, 1212, 1 L.Ed.2d 1311 (1957) (plurality opinion). See Cousins v.

Page 23

Wigoda, 419 U.S., at 487-488, 95 S.Ct., at 547-548; NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 431, 83 S.Ct. 328, 337, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1963).

          In sum, although the Act's contribution and expenditure limitations both implicate fundamental First Amendment interests, its expenditure ceilings impose significantly more severe restrictions on protected freedoms of political expression and association than do its limitations on financial contributions.

B. Contribution Limitations

1. The $1,000 Limitation on Contributions by Individuals and Groups to Candidates and Authorized Campaign Committees

          Section 608(b) provides, with certain limited exceptions, that "no person shall make contributions to any candidate with respect to any election for Federal office which, in the aggregate, exceed $1,000." The statute defines "person" broadly to include "an individual, partnership, committee, association, corporation, or any other organization or group of persons." § 591(g). The limitation reaches a gift, subscription, loan, advance, deposit of anything of value, or promise to give a contribution, made for the purpose of influencing a primary election, a Presidential preference primary, or a general election for any federal office.24 §§ 591(e)(1), (2). The

Page 24

$1,000 ceiling applies regardless of whether the contribution is given to the candidate, to a committee authorized in writing by the candidate to accept contributions on his behalf, or indirectly via earmarked gifts passed through an intermediary to the candidate. §§ 608(b)(4), (6).25 The restriction applies to aggregate amounts contributed to the candidate for each election with primaries, run-off elections, and general elections counted separately, and all Presidential primaries held in any calendar year treated together as a single election campaign. § 608(b)(5).

          Appellants contend that the $1,000 contribution ceiling unjustifiably burdens First Amendment freedoms, employs overbroad dollar limits, and discriminates against candidates opposing incumbent officeholders and against minor-party candidates in violation of the Fifth Amendment. We address each of these claims of invalidity in turn.

(a)

          As the general discussion in Part I-A, supra, indicated, the primary First Amendment problem raised by the Act's contribution limitations is their restriction of one aspect of the contributor's freedom of political associ-

Page 25

ation. The Court's decisions involving associational freedoms establish that the right of association is a "basic constitutional freedom," Kusper v. Pontikes, 414 U.S., at 57, 94 S.Ct., at 307, that is "closely allied to freedom of speech and a right which, like free speech, lies at the foundation of a free society." Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U.S. 479, 486, 81 S.Ct. 247, 251, 5 L.Ed.2d 231 (1960). See, e. g., Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U.S. 516, 522-523, 80 S.Ct. 412, 416, 4 L.Ed.2d 480 (1960); NAACP v. Alabama, supra, 357 U.S., at 460-461, 78 S.Ct., at 1170-1171; NAACP v. Button, supra, 371 U.S., at 452, 83 S.Ct., at 347 (Harlan, J., dissenting). In view of the fundamental nature of the right to associate, governmental "action which may have the effect of curtailing the freedom to associate is subject to the closest scrutiny." NAACP v. Alabama, supra, 357 U.S., at 460-461, 78 S.Ct., at 1171. Yet, it is clear that "(n)either the right to associate nor the right to participate in political activities is absolute." CSC v. Letter Carriers, 413 U.S. 548, 567, 93 S.Ct. 2880, 2891, 37 L.Ed.2d 796 (1973). Even a " 'significant interference' with protected rights of political association" may be sustained if the State demonstrates a sufficiently important interest and employs means closely drawn to avoid unnecessary abridgment of associational freedoms. Cousins v. Wigoda, supra, 419 U.S., at 488, 95 S.Ct., at 548; NAACP v. Button, supra, 371 U.S., at 438, 83 S.Ct., at 340; Shelton v. Tucker, supra, 364 U.S., at 488, 81 S.Ct., at 252.

          Appellees argue that the Act's restrictions on large campaign contributions are justified by three governmental interests. According to the parties and amici, the primary interest served by the limitations and, indeed, by the Act as a whole, is the prevention of corruption and the appearance of corruption spawned by the real or imagined coercive influence of large financial contributions on candidates' positions and on their actions if elected to office. Two "ancillary" interests underlying the Act are also allegedly furthered by the $1,000 limits on contributions. First, the limits serve to mute the voices of affluent persons and groups in the election

Page 26

process and thereby to equalize the relative ability of all citizens to affect the outcome of elections.26 Second, it is argued, the ceilings may to some extent act as a brake on the skyrocketing cost of political campaigns and thereby serve to open the political system more widely to candidates without access to sources of large amounts of money.27

          It is unnecessary to look beyond the Act's primary purpose to limit the actuality and appearance of corruption resulting from large individual financial contributions in order to find a constitutionally sufficient justification for the $1,000 contribution limitation. Under a system of private financing of elections, a candidate lacking immense personal or family wealth must depend on financial contributions from others to provide the resources necessary to conduct a successful campaign. The increasing importance of the communications media and sophisticated mass-mailing and polling operations to effective campaigning make the raising of large sums of money an ever more essential ingredient of an effective candidacy. To the extent that large contributions are given to secure a political quid pro quo from current and potential office holders, the integrity of our system of

Page 27

representative democracy is undermined. Although the scope of such pernicious practices can never be reliably ascertained, the deeply disturbing examples surfacing after the 1972 election demonstrate that the problem is not an illusory one.28

          Of almost equal concern as the danger of actual quid pro quo arrangements is the impact of the appearance of corruption stemming from public awareness of the opportunities for abuse inherent in a regime of large individual financial contributions. In CSC v. Letter Carriers, supra, the Court found that the danger to "fair and effective government" posed by partisan political conduct on the part of federal employees charged with administering the law was a sufficiently important concern to justify broad restrictions on the employees' right of partisan political association. Here, as there, Congress could legitimately conclude that the avoidance of the appearance of improper influence "is also critical . . . if confidence in the system of representative Government is not to be eroded to a disastrous extent." 413 U.S., at 565, 93 S.Ct., at 2890.29

          Appellants contend that the contribution limitations must be invalidated because bribery laws and narrowly drawn disclosure requirements constitute a less restrictive means of dealing with "proven and suspected quid pro quo arrangements." But laws making criminal

Page 28

the giving and taking of bribes deal with only the most blatant and specific attempts of those with money to influence governmental action. And while disclosure requirements serve the many salutary purposes discussed elsewhere in this opinion,30 Congress was surely entitled to conclude that disclosure was only a partial measure, and that contribution ceilings were a necessary legislative concomitant to deal with the reality or appearance of corruption inherent in a system permitting unlimited financial contributions, even when the identities of the contributors and the amounts of their contributions are fully disclosed.

          The Act's $1,000 contribution limitation focuses precisely on the problem of large campaign contributions the narrow aspect of political association where the actuality and potential for corruption have been identified while leaving persons free to engage in independent political expression, to associate actively through volunteering their services, and to assist to a limited but nonetheless substantial extent in supporting candidates and committees with financial resources.31 Significantly, the

Page 29

Act's contribution limitations in themselves do not undermine to any material degree the potential for robust and effective discussion of candidates and campaign issues by individual citizens, associations, the institutional press, candidates, and political parties.

          We find that, under the rigorous standard of review established by our prior decisions, the weighty interests served by restricting the size of financial contributions to political candidates are sufficient to justify the limited effect upon First Amendment freedoms caused by the $1,000 contribution ceiling.

(b)

          Appellants' first overbreadth challenge to the contribution ceilings rests on the proposition that most large contributors do not seek improper influence over a candidate's position or an officeholder's action. Although the truth of that proposition may be assumed, it does not

Page 30

undercut the validity of the $1,000 contribution limitation. Not only is it difficult to isolate suspect contributions, but, more importantly, Congress was justified in concluding that the interest in safeguarding against the appearance of impropriety requires that the opportunity for abuse inherent in the process of raising large monetary contributions be eliminated.

          A second, related overbreadth claim is that the $1,000 restriction is unrealistically low because much more than that amount would still not be enough to enable an unscrupulous contributor to exercise improper influence over a candidate or officeholder, especially in campaigns for statewide or national office. While the contribution limitation provisions might well have been structured to take account of the graduated expenditure limitations for congressional and Presidential campaigns,32 Congress' failure to engage in such fine tuning does not invalidate the legislation. As the Court of Appeals observed, "(i)f it is satisfied that some limit on contributions is necessary, a court has no scalpel to probe, whether, say, a $2,000 ceiling might not serve as well as $1,000." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 193, 519 F.2d, at 842. Such distinctions in degree become significant only when they can be said to amount to differences in kind. Compare Kusper v. Pontikes, 414 U.S. 51, 94 S.Ct. 303, 38 L.Ed.2d 260, with Rosario v. Rockefeller, 410 U.S. 752, 93 S.Ct. 1245, 36 L.Ed.2d 1 (1973).

(c)

          Apart from these First Amendment concerns, appellants argue that the contribution limitations work such an invidious discrimination between incumbents

Page 31

and challengers that the statutory provisions must be declared unconstitutional on their face.33 In considering this contention, it is important at the outset to note that the Act applies the same limitations on contributions to all candidates regardless of their present occupations, ideological views, or party affiliations. Absent record evidence of invidious discrimination against challengers as a class, a court should generally be hesitant to invalidate legislation which on its face imposes evenhanded restrictions. Cf. James v. Valtierra, 402 U.S. 137, 91 S.Ct. 1331, 28 L.Ed.2d 678 (1971).

Page 32

          [23] There is no such evidence to support the claim that the contribution limitations in themselves discriminate against major-party challengers to incumbents. Challengers can and often do defeat incumbents in federal elections.34 Major-party challengers in federal elections are usually men and women who are well known and influential in their community or State. Often such challengers are themselves incumbents in important local, state, or federal offices. Statistics in the record indicate that major-party challengers as well as incumbents are capable of raising large sums for campaigning.35 Indeed, a small but nonetheless significant number of challengers have in recent elections outspent their incumbent rivals.36 And, to the extent that incumbents generally are more likely than challengers to attract very large contributions, the Act's $1,000 ceiling has the practical effect of benefiting challengers as a class.37 Contrary to the broad gen-

Page 33

eralization drawn by the appellants, the practical impact of the contribution ceilings in any given election will clearly depend upon the amounts in excess of the ceilings that, for various reasons, the candidates in that election would otherwise have received and the utility of these additional amounts to the candidates. To be sure, the limitations may have a significant effect on particular challengers or incumbents, but the record provides no basis for predicting that such adventitious factors will invariably and invidiously benefit incumbents as a class.38 Since the danger of corruption and the appearance of corruption apply with equal force to challengers and to incumbents, Congress had ample justification for imposing the same fundraising constraints upon both.

          The charge of discrimination against minor-party and independent candidates is more troubling, but the record provides no basis for concluding that the Act invidiously disadvantages such candidates. As noted above, the Act on its face treats all candidates equally with regard to contribution limitations. And the restriction would appear to benefit minor-party and independent candidates relative to their major-party opponents because major-party candidates receive far more money in large contributions.39 Although there is some

Page 34

force to appellants' response that minor-party candidates are primarily concerned with their ability to amass the resources necessary to reach the electorate rather than with their funding position relative to their major-party opponents, the record is virtually devoid of support for the claim that the $1,000 contribution limitation will have a serious effect on the initiation and scope of minor-party and independent candidacies.40 Moreover, any at-

Page 35

tempt to exclude minor parties and independents en masse from the Act's contribution limitations overlooks the fact that minor-party candidates may win elective office or have a substantial impact on the outcome of an election.41

          In view of these considerations, we conclude that the impact of the Act's $1,000 contribution limitation on major-party challengers and on minor-party candidates does not render the provision unconstitutional on its face.

2. The $5,000 Limitation on Contributions by Political Committees

          Section 608(b)(2) permits certain committees, designated as "political committees," to contribute up to $5,000 to any candidate with respect to any election for federal office. In order to qualify for the higher contribution ceiling, a group must have been registered with the Commission as a political committee under 2 U.S.C. § 433 (1970 ed., Supp. IV) for not less than six months, have received contributions from more than 50 persons, and, except for state political party organizations, have contributed to five or more candidates for federal office. Appellants argue that these qualifications unconstitutionally discriminate against ad hoc organizations in favor of established interest groups and impermissibly burden free association. The argument is without merit. Rather than undermining freedom of association, the basic provision enhances the opportunity of bona fide groups to participate in the election process, and the registration, contribution, and candidate conditions serve the permissible purpose of preventing indivi-

Page 36

duals from evading the applicable contribution limitations by labeling themselves committees.

3. Limitations on Volunteers' Incidental Expenses

          The Act excludes from the definition of contribution "the value of services provided without compensation by individuals who volunteer a portion or all of their time on behalf of a candidate or political committee." § 591(e)(5)(A). Certain expenses incurred by persons in providing volunteer services to a candidate are exempt from the $1,000 ceiling only to the extent that they do not exceed $500. These expenses are expressly limited to (1) "the use of real or personal property and the cost of invitations, food, and beverages, voluntarily provided by an individual to a candidate in rendering voluntary personal services on the individual's residential premises for candidate-related activities," § 591(e)(5)(B); (2) "the sale of any food or beverage by a vendor for use in a candidate's campaign at a charge (at least equal to cost but) less than the normal comparable charge," § 591(e)(5)(C); and (3) "any unreimbursed payment for travel expenses made by an individual who on his own behalf volunteers his personal services to a candidate," § 591(e)(5)(D).

          If, as we have held, the basic contribution limitations are constitutionally valid, then surely these provisions are a constitutionally acceptable accommodation of Congress' valid interest in encouraging citizen participation in political campaigns while continuing to guard against the corrupting potential of large financial contributions to candidates. The expenditure of resources at the candidate's direction for a fundraising event at a volunteer's residence or the provision of in-kind assistance in the form of food or beverages to be resold to raise funds or consumed by the participants in such an event provides material financial assistance to a candidate. The ulti-

Page 37

mate effect is the same as if the person had contributed the dollar amount to the candidate and the candidate had then used the contribution to pay for the fundraising event or the food. Similarly, travel undertaken as a volunteer at the direction of the candidate or his staff is an expense of the campaign and may properly be viewed as a contribution if the volunteer absorbs the fare. Treating these expenses as contributions when made to the candidate's campaign or at the direction of the candidate or his staff forecloses an avenue of abuse 42 without limiting actions voluntarily undertaken by citizens independently of a candidate's campaign.43

Page 38

4. The $25,000 Limitation on Total Contributions During any Calendar Year

          In addition to the $1,000 limitation on the nonexempt contributions that an individual may make to a particular candidate for any single election, the Act contains an overall $25,000 limitation on total contributions by an individual during any calendar year. § 608(b)(3). A contribution made in connection with an election is considered, for purposes of this subsection, to be made in the year the election is held. Although the constitutionality of this provision was drawn into question by appellants, it has not been separately addressed at length by the parties. The overall $25,000 ceiling does impose an ultimate restriction upon the number of candidates and committees with which an individual may associate himself by means of financial support. But this quite modest restraint upon protected political activity serves to prevent evasion of the $1,000 contribution limitation by a person who might otherwise contribute massive amounts of money to a particular candidate through the use of unearmarked contributions to political committees likely to contribute to that candidate, or huge contributions to the candidate's political party. The limited, additional restriction on associational freedom imposed by the overall ceiling is thus no more than a corollary of the basic individual contribution limitation that we have found to be constitutionally valid.

Page 39

C. Expenditure Limitations

          The Act's expenditure ceilings impose direct and substantial restraints on the quantity of political speech. The most drastic of the limitations restricts individuals and groups, including political parties that fail to place a candidate on the ballot,44 to an expenditure of $1,000 "relative to a clearly identified candidate during a calendar year." § 608(e)(1). Other expenditure ceilings limit spending by candidates, § 608(a), their campaigns, § 608(c), and political parties in connection with election campaigns, § 608(f). It is clear that a primary effect of these expenditure limitations is to restrict the quantity of campaign speech by individuals, groups, and candidates. The restrictions, while neutral as to the ideas expressed, limit political expression "at the core of our electoral process and of the First Amendment freedoms." Williams v. Rhodes, 393 U.S. 23, 32, 89 S.Ct. 5, 11, 21 L.Ed.2d 24 (1968).

          Section 608(e)(1) provides that "(n)o person may make any expenditure . . . relative to a clearly identified candidate during a calendar year which, when added to all other expenditures made by such person during the year advocating the election or defeat of such candidate, exceeds $1,000." 45 The plain effect of § 608(e)(1) is to

Page 40

prohibit all individuals, who are neither candidates nor owners of institutional press facilities, and all groups, except political parties and campaign organizations, from voicing their views "relative to a clearly identified candidate" through means that entail aggregate expenditures of more than $1,000 during a calendar year. The provision, for example, would make it a federal criminal offense for a person or association to place a single one-quarter page advertisement "relative to a clearly identified candidate" in a major metropolitan newspaper.46

          Before examining the interests advanced in support of § 608(e)(1)'s expenditure ceiling, consideration must be given to appellants' contention that the provision is unconstitutionally vague.47 Close examination of the

Page 41

specificity of the statutory limitation is required where, as here, the legislation imposes criminal penalties in an area permeated by First Amendment interests. See Smith v. Goguen, 415 U.S. 566, 573, 94 S.Ct. 1242, 1247, 39 L.Ed.2d 605 (1974); Cramp v. Board of Public Instruction, 368 U.S. 278, 287-288, 82 S.Ct. 275, 280-281, 7 L.Ed.2d 285 (1961); Smith v. California, 361 U.S. 147, 151, 80 S.Ct. 215, 217, 4 L.Ed.2d 205 (1959).48 The test is whether the language of § 608(e)(1) affords the "(p)recision of regulation (that) must be the touchstone in an area so closely touching our most precious freedoms." NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S., at 438, 83 S.Ct., at 340.

          The key operative language of the provision limits "any expenditure . . . relative to a clearly identified candidate." Although "expenditure," "clearly identified," and "candidate" are defined in the Act, there is no definition clarifying what expenditures are "relative to" a candidate. The use of so indefinite a phrase as "relative to" a candidate fails to clearly mark the boundary between permissible and impermissible speech, unless other portions of § 608(e)(1) make sufficiently explicit the range of

Page 42

covered by the limitation. The section prohibits "any expenditure . . . relative to a clearly identified candidate during a calendar year which, when added to all other expenditures . . . advocating the election or defeat of such candidate, exceeds, $1,000." (Emphasis added.) This context clearly permits, if indeed it does not require, the phrase "relative to" a candidate to be read to mean "advocating the election or defeat of" a candidate.49

          But while such a construction of § 608(e)(1) refocuses the vagueness question, the Court of Appeals was mistaken in thinking that this construction eliminates the problem of unconstitutional vagueness altogether. 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 204, 519 F.2d, at 853. For the distinction between discussion of issues and candidates and advocacy of election or defeat of candidates may often dissolve in practical application. Candidates, especially incumbents, are intimately tied to public issues involving legislative proposals and governmental actions. Not only do candidates campaign on the basis of their positions on various public issues, but campaigns themselves generate issues of public interest.50 In an analo-

Page 43

gous context, this Court in Thomas v. Collins, 323 U.S. 516, 65 S.Ct. 315, 89 L.Ed.2d 430 (1945), observed:

          "(W)hether words intended and designed to fall short of invitation would miss that mark is a question both of intent and of effect. No speaker, in such circumstances, safely could assume that anything he might say upon the general subject would not be understood by some as an invitation. In short, the supposedly clear-cut distinction between discussion, laudation, general advocacy, and solicitation puts the speaker in these circumstances wholly at the mercy of the varied understanding of his hearers and consequently of whatever inference may be drawn as to his intent and meaning.

          "Such a distinction offers no security for free discussion. In these conditions it blankets with uncertainty whatever may be said. It compels the speaker to hedge and trim." Id., at 535, 65 S.Ct., at 325.

          See also United States v. Auto. Workers, 352 U.S. 567, 595-596, 77 S.Ct. 529, 543-544, 1 L.Ed.2d 563 (1957) (Douglas, J., dissenting); Gitlow v. New York, 268 U.S. 652, 673, 45 S.Ct. 625, 632, 69 L.Ed. 1138 (1925) (Holmes, J., dissenting).

          The constitutional deficiencies described in Thomas v. Collins can be avoided only by reading § 608(e)(1) as limited to communications that include explicit words of advocacy of election or defeat of a candidate, much as the definition of "clearly identified" in § 608(e)(2) requires that an explicit and unambiguous reference to the candidate appear as part of the communication. 51 This

Page 44

is the reading of the provision suggested by the non-governmental appellees in arguing that "(f)unds spent to propagate one's views on issues without expressly calling for a candidate's election or defeat are thus not covered." We agree that in order to preserve the provision against invalidation on vagueness grounds, § 608(e)(1) must be construed to apply only to expenditures for communications that in express terms advocate the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate for federal office.52

          We turn then to the basic First Amendment question whether § 608(e)(1), even as thus narrowly and explicitly construed, impermissibly burdens the constitutional right of free expression. The Court of Appeals summarily held the provision constitutionally valid on the ground that "section 608(e) is a loophole-closing provision only" that is necessary to prevent circumvention of the contribution limitations. 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 204, 519 F.2d, at 853. We cannot agree.

          The discussion in Part I-A, supra, explains why the Act's expenditure limitations impose far greater restraints on the freedom of speech and association than do its contribution limitations. The markedly greater burden on basic freedoms caused by § 608(e)(1) thus cannot be sustained simply by invoking the interest in maximizing the effectiveness of the less intrusive contribution limitations. Rather, the constitutionality of § 608(e)(1) turns on whether the governmental interests advanced in its support satisfy the exacting scrutiny applicable to limita-

Page 45

tions on core First Amendment rights of political expression.

          We find that the governmental interest in preventing corruption and the appearance of corruption is inadequate to justify § 608(e)(1)'s ceiling on independent expenditures. First, assuming, arguendo, that large independent expenditures pose the same dangers of actual or apparent quid pro quo arrangements as do large contributions, § 608(e)(1) does not provide an answer that sufficiently relates to the elimination of those dangers. Unlike the contribution limitations' total ban on the giving of large amounts of money to candidates, § 608(e)(1) prevents only some large expenditures. So long as persons and groups eschew expenditures that in express terms advocate the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate, they are free to spend as much as they want to promote the candidate and his views. The exacting interpretation of the statutory language necessary to avoid unconstitutional vagueness thus undermines the limitation's effectiveness as a loophole-closing provision by facilitating circumvention by those seeking to exert improper influence upon a candidate or office-holder. It would naively underestimate the ingenuity and resourcefulness of persons and groups desiring to buy influence to believe that they would have much difficulty devising expenditures that skirted the restriction on express advocacy of election or defeat but nevertheless benefited the candidate's campaign. Yet no substantial societal interest would be served by a loophole-closing provision designed to check corruption that permitted unscrupulous persons and organizations to expend unlimited sums of money in order to obtain improper influence over candidates for elective office. Cf. Mills v. Alabama, 384 U.S., at 220, 86 S.Ct., at 1437.

          Second, quite apart from the shortcomings of § 608(e)

Page 46

(1) in preventing any abuses generated by large independent expenditures, the independent advocacy restricted by the provision does not presently appear to pose dangers of real or apparent corruption comparable to those identified with large campaign contributions. The parties defending § 608(e)(1) contend that it is necessary to prevent would-be contributors from avoiding the contribution limitations by the simple expedient of paying directly for media advertisements or for other portions of the candidate's campaign activities. They argue that expenditures controlled by or coordinated with the candidate and his campaign might well have virtually the same value to the candidate as a contribution and would pose similar dangers of abuse. Yet such controlled or coordinated expenditures are treated as contributions rather than expenditures under the Act.53 Section 608(b)'s

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contribution ceilings rather than § 608(e)(1)'s independent expenditure limitation prevent attempts to circumvent the Act through prearranged or coordinated expenditures amounting to disguised contributions. By contrast, § 608(e)(1) limits expenditures for express advocacy of candidates made totally independently of the candidate and his campaign. Unlike contributions, such independent expenditures may well provide little assistance to the candidate's campaign and indeed may prove counterproductive. The absence of prearrangement and coordination of an expenditure with the candidate or his agent not only undermines the value of the expenditure to the candidate, but also alleviates the danger that expenditures will be given as a quid pro quo for improper commitments from the candidate. Rather than preventing circumvention of the contribution limitations, § 608(e)(1) severely restricts all independent advocacy despite its substantially diminished potential for abuse.

          While the independent expenditure ceiling thus fails to serve any substantial governmental interest in stemming

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the reality or appearance of corruption in the electoral process, it heavily burdens core First Amendment expression. For the First Amendment right to " 'speak one's mind . . . on all public institutions' " includes the right to engage in " 'vigorous advocacy' no less than 'abstract discussion.' " New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S., at 269, 84 S.Ct., at 721, quoting Bridges v. California, 314 U.S. 252, 270, 62 S.Ct. 190, 197, 86 L.Ed. 192 (1941), and NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S., at 429, 83 S.Ct., at 335. Advocacy of the election or defeat of candidates for federal office is no less entitled to protection under the First Amendment than the discussion of political policy generally or advocacy of the passage or defeat of legislation.54

            It is argued, however, that the ancillary governmental interest in equalizing the relative ability of individuals and groups to influence the outcome of elections serves to justify the limitation on express advocacy of the election or defeat of candidates imposed by § 608(e)(1)'s expenditure ceiling. But the concept that government may restrict the speech of some elements of our society in

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order to enhance the relative voice of others is wholly foreign to the First Amendment, which was designed "to secure 'the widest possible dissemination of information from diverse and antagonistic sources,' " and " 'to assure unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of political and social changes desired by the people.' " New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, supra, 376 U.S., at 266, 269, 84 S.Ct., at 718, quoting Associated Press v. United States, 326 U.S. 1, 20, 65 S.Ct. 1416, 1424, 89 L.Ed. 2013 (1945), and Roth v. United States, 354 U.S., at 484, 77 S.Ct., at 1308. The First Amendment's protection against governmental abridgment of free expression cannot properly be made to depend on a person's financial ability to engage in public discussion. Cf. Eastern R. Conf. v. Noerr Motors, 365 U.S. 127, 139, 81 S.Ct. 523, 530, 5 L.Ed.2d 464 (1961).55

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          The Court's decisions in Mills v. Alabama, 384 U.S. 214, 86 S.Ct. 1434, 16 L.Ed.2d 484 (1966), and Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, 418 U.S. 241, 94 S.Ct. 2831, 41 L.Ed.2d 730 (1974), held that legislative restrictions on advocacy of the election or defeat of political candidates are wholly at odds with the guarantees of the First Amendment. In Mills, the Court addressed the question whether "a State, consistently with the United States Constitution, can make it a crime for the editor of a daily newspaper to write and publish an editorial on election day urging people to vote a certain way on issues submitted to them." 384 U.S., at 215, 86 S.Ct., at 1435 (emphasis in original). We held that "no test of reasonableness can save (such) a state law from invalidation as a violation of the First Amendment." Id., at 220, 86 S.Ct., at 1437. Yet the prohibition of election day-editorials invalidated in Mills is clearly a lesser intrusion on constitutional freedom than a $1,000 limitation on the amount of money any person or association can spend during an entire election year in advocating the election or defeat of a candidate for public office. More recently in Tornillo, the Court held that Florida could not constitutionally require a news-

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paper to make space available for a political candidate to reply to its criticism. Yet under the Florida statute, every newspaper was free to criticize any candidate as much as it pleased so long as it undertook the modest burden of printing his reply. See 418 U.S., at 256-257, 94 S.Ct., at 2838-2839. The legislative restraint involved in Tornillo thus also pales in comparison to the limitations imposed by § 608(e) (1).56

          For the reasons stated, we conclude that § 608(e)(1)'s independent expenditure limitation is unconstitutional under the First Amendment.

2. Limitation on Expenditures by Candidates from Personal or Family Resources

          The Act also sets limits on expenditures by a candidate "from his personal funds, or the personal funds of his immediate family, in connection with his campaigns during any calendar year." § 608(a)(1). These ceilings vary from $50,000 for Presidential or Vice Presidential candidates to $35,000 for senatorial candidates, and $25,000 for most candidates for the House of Representatives.57

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          [41] The ceiling on personal expenditures by candidates on their own behalf, like the limitations on independent expenditures contained in § 608(e)(1), imposes a substantial restraint on the ability of persons to engage in protected First Amendment expression.58 The candidate, no less than any other person, has a First Amendment right to engage in the discussion of public issues and vigorously and tirelessly to advocate his own election and the election of other candidates. Indeed, it is of particular importance that candidates have the un-

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fettered opportunity to make their views known so that the electorate may intelligently evaluate the candidates' personal qualities and their positions on vital public issues before choosing among them on election day. Mr. Justice Brandeis' observation that in our country "public discussion is a political duty," Whitney v. California, 274 U.S. 357, 375, 47 S.Ct. 641, 648, 71 L.Ed. 1095 (1927) (concurring opinion), applies with special force to candidates for public office. Section 608(a)'s ceiling on personal expenditures by a candidate in furtherance of his own candidacy thus clearly and directly interferes with constitutionally protected freedoms.

          The primary governmental interest served by the Act the prevention of actual and apparent corruption of the political process does not support the limitation on the candidate's expenditure of his own personal funds. As the Court of Appeals concluded: "Manifestly, the core problem of avoiding undisclosed and undue influence on candidates from outside interests has lesser application when the monies involved come from the candidate himself or from his immediate family." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 206, 519 F.2d, at 855. Indeed, the use of personal funds reduces the candidate's dependence on outside contributions and thereby counteracts the coercive pressures and attendant risks of abuse to which the Act's contribution limitations are directed.59

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          [44,45] The ancillary interest in equalizing the relative financial resources of candidates competing for elective office, therefore, provides the sole relevant rationale for § 608(a)'s expenditure ceiling. That interest is clearly not sufficient to justify the provision's infringement of fundamental First Amendment rights. First, the limitation may fail to promote financial equality among candidates. A candidate who spends less of his personal resources on his campaign may nonetheless outspend his rival as a result of more successful fundraising efforts. Indeed, a candidate's personal wealth may impede his efforts to persuade others that he needs their financial contributions or volunteer efforts to conduct an effective campaign. Second, and more fundamentally, the First Amendment simply cannot tolerate § 608(a)'s restriction upon the freedom of a candidate to speak without legislative limit on behalf of his own candidacy. We therefore hold that § 608(a)'s restriction on a candidate's personal expenditures is unconstitutional.

3. Limitations on Campaign Expenditures

          Section 608(c) places limitations on overall campaign expenditures by candidates seeking nomination for election and election to federal office. 60 Presidential candidates may spend $10,000,000 in seeking nomination for office and an additional $20,000,000 in the general election campaign. §§ 608(c)(1)(A), (B).61

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The ceiling on senatorial campaigns is pegged to the size of the voting-age population of the State with minimum dollar amounts applicable to campaigns in States with small populations. In senatorial primary elections, the limit is the greater of eight cents multiplied by the voting-age population or $100,000, and in the general election the limit is increased to 12 cents multiplied by the voting-age population or $150,000. §§ 608(c)(1)(C), (D). The Act imposes blanket $70,000 limitations on both primary campaigns and general election campaigns for the House of Representatives with the exception that the senatorial ceiling applies to campaigns in States entitled to only one Representative. §§ 608(c)(1)(C)-(E). These ceilings are to be adjusted upwards at the beginning of each calendar year by the average percentage rise in the consumer price index for the 12 preceding months. § 608(d).62

          No governmental interest that has been suggested is sufficient to justify the restriction on the quantity of political expression imposed by § 608(c)'s campaign expenditure limitations. The major evil associated with rapidly increasing campaign expenditures is the danger of candidate dependence on large contributions. The interest in alleviating the corrupting influence of large contributions is served by the Act's contribution limitations and disclosure provisions rather than by § 608(c)'s campaign expenditure ceilings. The Court of Appeals' assertion that the expenditure restrictions are necessary to reduce the incentive to circumvent direct contribution limits is not persuasive. See 171 U.S.

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App.D.C., at 210, 519 F.2d, at 859. There is no indication that the substantial criminal penalties for violating the contribution ceilings combined with the political repercussion of such violations will be insufficient to police the contribution provisions. Extensive reporting, auditing, and disclosure requirements applicable to both contributions and expenditures by political campaigns are designed to facilitate the detection of illegal contributions. Moreover, as the Court of Appeals noted, the Act permits an officeholder or successful candidate to retain contributions in excess of the expenditure ceiling and to use these funds for "any other lawful purpose." 2 U.S.C. § 439a (1970 ed., Supp. IV). This provision undercuts whatever marginal role the expenditure limitations might otherwise play in enforcing the contribution ceilings.

          The interest in equalizing the financial resources of candidates competing for federal office is no more convincing a justification for restricting the scope of federal election campaigns. Given the limitation on the size of outside contributions, the financial resources available to a candidate's campaign, like the number of volunteers recruited, will normally vary with the size and intensity of the candidate's support.63 There is nothing invidious, improper, or unhealthy in permitting such funds to be spent to carry the candidate's message to the electorate.64 Moreover, the equalization of permissible campaign ex-

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penditures might serve not to equalize the opportunities of all candidates, but to handicap a candidate who lacked substantial name recognition or exposure of his views before the start of the campaign.

          The campaign expenditure ceilings appear to be designed primarily to serve the governmental interests in reducing the allegedly skyrocketing costs of political campaigns. Appellees and the Court of Appeals stressed statistics indicating that spending for federal election campaigns increased almost 300% Between 1952 and 1972 in comparison with a 57.6% Rise in the consumer price index during the same period. Appellants respond that during these years the rise in campaign spending lagged behind the percentage increase in total expenditures for commercial advertising and the size of the gross national product. In any event, the mere growth in the cost of federal election campaigns in and of itself provides no basis for governmental restrictions on the quantity of campaign spending and the resulting limitation on the scope of federal campaigns. The First Amendment denies government the power to determine that spending to promote one's political views is wasteful, excessive, or unwise. In the free society ordained by our Constitution it is not the government, but the people individually as citizens and candidates and collectively as associations and political committees who must retain control over the quantity and range of debate on public issues in a political campaign. 65

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          [52] For these reasons we hold that § 608(c) is constitutionally invalid.66

          In sum, the provisions of the Act that impose a $1,000 limitation on contributions to a single candidate, § 608(b)(1), a $5,000 limitation on contributions by a political committee to a single candidate, § 608(b)(2), and a $25,000 limitation on total contributions by an individual during any calendar year, § 608(b)(3), are constitutionally valid. These limitations, along with the disclosure provisions, constitute the Act's primary weapons against the reality or appearance of improper influence stemming from the dependence of candidates on large campaign contributions. The contribution ceilings thus serve the basic governmental interest in safeguarding the integrity of the electoral process without directly impinging upon the rights of individual citizens and candidates to engage in political debate and discussion. By contrast, the First Amendment requires the invalidation of the Act's independent expenditure ceiling, § 608(e)(1), its limitation on a candidate's expenditures from his own personal funds, § 608(a), and its ceilings on overall campaign expenditures, § 608(c). These provisions place substantial and direct restrictions

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on the ability of candidates, citizens, and associations to engage in protected political expression, restrictions that the First Amendment cannot tolerate.67

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                    II. REPORTING AND DISCLOSURE REQUIREMENTS

          Unlike the limitations on contributions and expenditures imposed by 18 U.S.C. § 608 (1970 ed., Supp. IV), the disclosure requirements of the Act, 2 U.S.C. § 431 et seq. (1970 ed., Supp. IV),68 are not challenged by appellants as per se unconstitutional restrictions on the exercise of First Amendment freedoms of speech and association.69 Indeed, appellants argue that "narrowly drawn disclosure requirements are the proper solution to virtually all of the evils Congress sought to remedy." Brief for Appellants 171. The particular requirements

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embodied in the Act are attacked as overbroad both in their application to minor-party and independent candidates and in their extension to contributions as small as $11 or $101. Appellants also challenge the provision for disclosure by those who make independent contributions and expenditures, § 434(e). The Court of Appeals found no constitutional infirmities in the provisions challenged here.70 We affirm the determination on overbreadth and hold that § 434(e), if narrowly construed, also is within constitutional bounds.

          The first federal disclosure law was enacted in 1910. Act of June 25, 1910, c. 392, 36 Stat. 822. It required political committees, defined as national committees and national congressional campaign committees of parties, and organizations operating to influence congressional elections in two or more States, to disclose names of all contributors of $100 or more; identification of recipients of expenditures of $10 or more was also required. §§ 1, 5-6, 36 Stat. 822-824. Annual expenditures of $50 or more "for the purpose of influencing or controlling, in two or more States, the result of" a congressional election had to be reported independently if they were not made through a political committee. § 7, 36 Stat. 824. In 1911 the Act was revised to include prenomination transactions such as those involved in conventions and primary campaigns. Act of Aug. 19, 1911, § 2, 37 Stat. 26. See United States v. Auto Workers, 352 U.S., at 575-576, 77 S.Ct., at 533-534.

          Disclosure requirements were broadened in the Federal Corrupt Practices Act of 1925 (Title III of the Act of Feb. 28, 1925), 43 Stat. 1070. That Act required political committees, defined as organizations that accept contributions or make expenditures "for the purpose of

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influencing or attempting to influence" the Presidential or Vice Presidential elections (a) in two or more States or (b) as a subsidiary of a national committee, § 302(c), 43 Stat. 1070, to report total contributions and expenditures, including the names and addresses of contributors of $100 or more and recipients of $10 or more in a calendar year. § 305(a), 43 Stat. 1071. The Act was upheld against a challenge that it infringed upon the prerogatives of the States in Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 54 S.Ct. 287, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934). The Court held that it was within the power of Congress "to pass appropriate legislation to safeguard (a Presidential) election from the improper use of money to influence the result." Id., at 545, 54 S.Ct., at 290. Although the disclosure requirements were widely circumvented,71 no further attempts were made to tighten them until 1960, when the Senate passed a bill that would have closed some existing loopholes. S. 2436, 106 Cong.Rec. 1193. The attempt aborted because no similar effort was made in the House.

          The Act presently under review replaced all prior disclosure laws. Its primary disclosure provisions impose reporting obligations on "political committees" and candidates. "Political committee" is defined in § 431(d) as a group of persons that receives"contributions" or makes "expenditures" of over $1,000 in a calendar year. "Contributions" and "expenditures" are defined in lengthy parallel provisions similar to those in Title 18, discussed

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above.72 Both definitions focus on the use of money or other objects of value "for the purpose of . . . influencing" the nomination or election of any person to federal office. § 431(e)(1), (f)(1).

          Each political committee is required to register with the Commission, § 433, and to keep detailed records of both contributions and expenditures, § 432(c), (d). These records must include the name and address of everyone making a contribution in excess of $10, along with the date and amount of the contribution. If a person's contributions aggregate more than $100, his occupation and principal place of business are also to be included. § 432(c) (2). These files are subject to periodic audits and field investigations by the Commission. § 438(a)(8).

          Each committee and each candidate also is required to file quarterly reports. § 434(a). The reports are to contain detailed financial information, including the full name, mailing address, occupation, and principal place of business of each person who has contributed over $100 in a calendar year, as well as the amount and date of the contributions. § 434(b). They are to be made available by the Commission "for public inspection and copying." § 438(a)(4). Every candidate for federal office is required to designate a "principal campaign committee," which is to receive reports of contributions and expenditures made on the candidate's behalf from other political committees and to compile and file these reports, together with its own statements, with the Commission. § 432(f).

          Every individual or group, other than a political committee or candidate, who makes "contributions" or "expenditures" of over $100 in a calendar year "other than

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by contribution to a political committee or candidate" is required to file a statement with the Commission. § 434(e). Any violation of these record-keeping and reporting provisions is punishable by a fine of not more than $1,000 or a prison term of not more than a year, or both. § 441(a).

A. General Principles

          Unlike the overall limitations on contributions and expenditures, the disclosure requirements impose no ceiling on campaign-related activities. But we have repeatedly found that compelled disclosure, in itself, can seriously infringe on privacy of association and belief guaranteed by the First Amendment. E. g., Gibson v. Florida Legislative Comm., 372 U.S. 539, 83 S.Ct. 889, 9 L.Ed.2d 929 (1963); NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 83 S.Ct. 328, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1963); Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U.S. 479, 81 S.Ct. 247, 5 L.Ed.2d 231 (1960); Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U.S. 516, 80 S.Ct. 412, 4 L.Ed.2d 480 (1960); NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U.S. 449, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488 (1958).

          We long have recognized that significant encroachments on First Amendment rights of the sort that compelled disclosure imposes cannot be justified by a mere showing of some legitimate governmental interest. Since NAACP v. Alabama we have required that the subordinating interests of the State must survive exacting scrutiny.73 We also have insisted that there be a "relevant correlation" 74 or "substantial relation" 75 between the governmental interest and the information required to be disclosed. See Pollard v. Roberts, 283 F.Supp. 248, 257 (ED Ark.) (three-judge court), aff'd, 393 U.S. 14, 89 S.Ct. 47, 21 L.Ed.2d 14 (1968)

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(per curiam). This type of scrutiny is necessary even if any deterrent effect on the exercise of First Amendment rights arises, not through direct government action, but indirectly as an unintended but inevitable result of the government's conduct in requiring disclosure. NAACP v. Alabama, supra, 357 U.S., at 461, 78 S.Ct., at 1171. Cf. Kusper v. Pontikes, 414 U.S., at 57-58, 94 S.Ct., at 307-308.

          Appellees argue that the disclosure requirements of the Act differ significantly from those at issue in NAACP v. Alabama and its progeny because the Act only requires disclosure of the names of contributors and does not compel political organizations to submit the names of their members.76

          As we have seen, group association is protected because it enhances "(e) ffective advocacy." NAACP v. Alabama, supra, 357 U.S., at 460, 78 S.Ct., at 1170. The right to join together "for the advancement of beliefs and ideas," ibid., is diluted if it does not include the right to pool money through contributions, for funds are often essential if "advocacy" is

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to be truly or optimally "effective." Moreover, the invasion of privacy of belief may be as great when the information sought concerns the giving and spending of money as when it concerns the joining of organizations, for "(f)inancial transactions can reveal much about a person's activities, associations, and beliefs." California Bankers Ass'n v. Shultz, 416 U.S. 21, 78-79, 94 S.Ct. 1494, 1526, 39 L.Ed.2d 812 (1974) (Powell, J., concurring). Our past decisions have not drawn fine lines between contributors and members but have treated them interchangeably. In Bates, for example, we applied the principles of NAACP v. Alabama and reversed convictions for failure to comply with a city ordinance that required the disclosure of "dues, assessments, and contributions paid, by whom and when paid." 361 U.S., at 518, 80 S.Ct., at 414. See also United States v. Rumely, 345 U.S. 41, 73 S.Ct. 543, 97 L.Ed. 770 (1953) (setting aside a contempt conviction of an organization official who refused to disclose names of those who made bulk purchases of books sold by the organization).

          The strict test established by NAACP v. Alabama is necessary because compelled disclosure has the potential for substantially infringing the exercise of First Amendment rights. But we have acknowledged that there are governmental interests sufficiently important to outweigh the possibility of infringement, particularly when the "free functioning of our national institutions" is involved. Communist Party v. Subversive Activities Control Bd., 367 U.S. 1, 97, 81 S.Ct. 1357, 1411, 6 L.Ed.2d 625 (1961).

          The governmental interests sought to be vindicated by the disclosure requirements are of this magnitude. They fall into three categories. First, disclosure provides the electorate with information "as to where political campaign money comes from and how it is spent by the candidate" 77 in order to aid the voters in evaluating those

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who seek federal office. It allows voters to place each candidate in the political spectrum more precisely than is often possible solely on the basis of party labels and campaign speeches. The sources of a candidate's financial support also alert the voter to the interests to which a candidate is most likely to be responsive and thus facilitate predictions of future performance in office.

          Second, disclosure requirements deter actual corruption and avoid the appearance of corruption by exposing large contributions and expenditures to the light of publicity.78 This exposure may discourage those who would use money for improper purposes either before or after the election. A public armed with information about a candidate's most generous supporters is better able to detect any post-election special favors that may be given in return. 79 And, as we recognized in Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S., at 548, 54 S.Ct., at 291, Congress could reasonably conclude that full disclosure during an election campaign tends "to prevent the corrupt use of money to affect elections." In enacting these requirements it may have been mindful of Mr. Justice Brandeis' advice:

          "Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman." 80

          Third, and not least significant, recordkeeping, report-

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ing, and disclosure requirements are an essential means of gathering the data necessary to detect violations of the contribution limitations described above.

          The disclosure requirements, as a general matter, directly serve substantial governmental interests. In determining whether these interests are sufficient to justify the requirements we must look to the extent of the burden that they place on individual rights.

          It is undoubtedly true that public disclosure of contributions to candidates and political parties will deter some individuals who otherwise might contribute. In some instances, disclosure may even expose contributors to harassment or retaliation. These are not insignificant burdens on individual rights, and they must be weighed carefully against the interests which Congress has sought to promote by this legislation. In this process, we note and agree with appellants' concession 81 that disclosure requirements certainly in most applications appear to be the least restrictive means of curbing the evils of campaign ignorance and corruption that Congress found to exist.82 Appellants argue, however, that the balance tips against disclosure when it is required of contributors to certain parties and candidates. We turn now to this contention.

            B. Application to Minor Parties and Independents

          Appellants contend that the Act's requirements are overbroad insofar as they apply to contributions to minor

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parties and independent candidates because the governmental interest in this information is minimal and the danger of significant infringement on First Amendment rights is greatly increased.

1. Requisite Factual Showing

          In NAACP v.Alabama the organization had "made an uncontroverted showing that on past occasions revelation of the identity of its rank-and-file members (had) exposed these members to economic reprisal, loss of employment, threat of physical coercion, and other manifestations of public hostility," 357 U.S., at 462, 78 S.Ct., at 1172, and the State was unable to show that the disclosure it sought had a "substantial bearing" on the issues it sought to clarify, id., at 464, 78 S.Ct. at 1172. Under those circumstances, the Court held that "whatever interest the State may have in (disclosure) has not been shown to be sufficient to overcome petitioner's constitutional objections." Id., at 465, 78 S.Ct., at 1173.

          The Court of Appeals rejected appellants' suggestion that this case fits into the NAACP v. Alabama mold. It concluded that substantial governmental interests in "informing the electorate and preventing the corruption of the political process" were furthered by requiring disclosure of minor parties and independent candidates, 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 218, 519 F.2d, at 867, and therefore found no "tenable rationale for assuming that the public interest in minority party disclosure of contributions above a reasonable cut-off point is uniformly outweighed by potential contributors' associational rights," id., at 219, 519 F.2d, at 868. The court left open the question of the application of the disclosure requirements to candidates (and parties) who could demonstrate injury of the sort at stake in NAACP v. Alabama. No record of harassment on a similar scale was found in this case.83 We agree with

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the Court of Appeals' conclusion that NAACP v. Alabama is inapposite where, as here, any serious infringement on First Amendment rights brought about by the compelled disclosure of contributors is highly speculative.

          It is true that the governmental interest in disclosure is diminished when the contribution in question is made to a minor party with little chance of winning an election. As minor parties usually represent definite and publicized viewpoints, there may be less need to inform the voters of the interests that specific candidates represent. Major parties encompass candidates of greater diversity. In many situations the label "Republican" or "Democrat" tells a voter little. The candidate who bears it may be supported by funds from the far right, the far left, or any place in between on the political spectrum. It is less likely that a candidate of, say, the Socialist Labor Party will represent interests that cannot be discerned from the party's ideological position.

          The Government's interest in deterring the "buying" of elections and the undue influence of large contributors on officeholders also may be reduced where contributions to a minor party or an independent candidate are concerned, for it is less likely that the candidate will be victorious. But a minor party sometimes can play a significant role in an election. Even when a minor-party candidate has little or no chance of winning, he may be encouraged by major-party interests in order to divert votes from other major-party contenders. 84

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          We are not unmindful that the damage done by disclosure to the associational interests of the minor parties and their members and to supporters of independents could be significant. These movements are less likely to have a sound financial base and thus are more vulnerable to falloffs in contributions. In some instances fears of reprisal may deter contributions to the point where the movement cannot survive. The public interest also suffers if that result comes to pass, for there is a consequent reduction in the free circulation of ideas both within 85 and without 86 the political arena.

          There could well be a case, similar to those before the Court in NAACP v. Alabama and Bates, where the threat to the exercise of First Amendment rights is so serious and the state interest furthered by disclosure so insubstantial that the Act's requirements cannot be constitutionally applied.87 But no appellant in this case has tendered record evidence of the sort proffered in NAACP v. Alabama. Instead, appellants primarily rely on "the clearly articulated fears of individuals, well experienced in the political process." Brief for Appellants 173. At

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best they offer the testimony of several minor-party officials that one or two persons refused to make contributions because of the possibility of disclosure.88 On this record, the substantial public interest in disclosure identified by the legislative history of this Act outweighs the harm generally alleged.

          Appellants agree that "the record here does not reflect the kind of focused and insistent harassment of contributors and members that existed in the NAACP cases." Ibid. They argue, however, that a blanket exemption for minor parties is necessary lest irreparable injury be done before the required evidence can be gathered.

          Those parties that would be sufficiently "minor" to be exempted from the requirements of § 434 could be defined, appellants suggest, along the lines used for public-financing purposes, see Part III-A, infra, as those who received less than 25% Of the vote in past elections. Appellants do not argue that this line is constitutionally required. They suggest as an alternative defining "minor parties" as those that do not qualify for automatic ballot access under state law. Presumably, other criteria, such as current political strength (measured by polls or petition), age, or degree of organization, could also be used.89

          The difficulty with these suggestions is that they reflect only a party's past or present political strength and

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that is only one of the factors that must be considered. Some of the criteria are not precisely indicative of even that factor. Age,90 or past political success, for instance, may typically be associated with parties that have a high probability of success. But not all long-established parties are winners some are consistent losers and a new party may garner a great deal of support if it can associate itself with an issue that has captured the public's imagination. None of the criteria suggested is precisely related to the other critical factor that must be considered, the possibility that disclosure will impinge upon protected associational activity.

          An opinion dissenting in part from the Court of Appeals' decision concedes that no one line is "constitutionally required."91 It argues, however, that a flat exemption for minor parties must be carved out, even along arbitrary lines, if groups that would suffer impermissibly from disclosure are to be given any real protection. An approach that requires minor parties to submit evidence that the disclosure requirements cannot constitutionally be applied to them offers only an illusory safeguard, the argument goes, because the "evils" of "chill and harassment . . . are largely incapable of formal proof." 92 This dissent expressed its concern that a minor party, particularly a

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new party, may never be able to prove a substantial threat of harassment, however real that threat may be, because it would be required to come forward with witnesses who are too fearful to contribute but not too fearful to testify about their fear. A strict requirement that chill and harassment be directly attributable to the specific disclosure from which the exemption is sought would make the task even more difficult.

          We recognize that unduly strict requirements of proof could impose a heavy burden, but it does not follow that a blanket exemption for minor parties is necessary. Minor parties must be allowed sufficient flexibility in the proof of injury to assure a fair consideration of their claim. The evidence offered need show only a reasonable probability that the compelled disclosure of a party's contributors' names will subject them to threats, harassment, or reprisals from either Government officials or private parties. The proof may include, for example, specific evidence of past or present harassment of members due to their associational ties, or of harassment directed against the organization itself. A pattern of threats or specific manifestations of public hostility may be sufficient. New parties that have no history upon which to draw may be able to offer evidence of reprisals and threats directed against individuals or organizations holding similar views.

          Where it exists the type of chill and harassment identified in NAACP v. Alabama can be shown. We cannot assume that courts will be insensitive to similar showings when made in future cases. We therefore conclude that a blanket exemption is not required.

C. Section 434(e)

          Section 434(e) requires "(e)very person (other than a political committee or candidate) who makes contribu-

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tions or expenditures" aggregating over $100 in a calendar year "other than by contribution to a political committee or candidate" to file a statement with the Commission.93 Unlike the other disclosure provisions, this section does not seek the contribution list of any association. Instead, it requires direct disclosure of what an individual or group contributes or spends.

          In considering this provision we must apply the same strict standard of scrutiny, for the right of associational privacy developed in NAACP v. Alabama derives from the rights of the organization's members to advocate their personal points of view in the most effective way. 357 U.S., at 458, 460, 78 S.Ct., at 1169-1170. See also NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S., at 429-431, 83 S.Ct., at 335-337; Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U.S., at 250, 77 S.Ct., at 1211.

          Appellants attack § 434(e) as a direct intrusion on privacy of belief, in violation of Talley v. California, 362 U.S. 60, 80 S.Ct. 536, 4 L.Ed.2d 559 (1960), and as imposing "very real, practical burdens . . . certain to deter individuals from making expenditures for their independent political speech" analogous to those held to be impermissible in Thomas v. Collins, 323 U.S. 516, 65 S.Ct. 315, 89 L.Ed. 430 (1945).

1. The Role of § 434(e)

          The Court of Appeals upheld § 434(e) as necessary to enforce the independent-expenditure ceiling imposed by 18 U.S.C. § 608(e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). It said:

          "If . . . Congress has both the authority and a compelling interest to regulate independent expenditures under section 608(e), surely it can require that there be disclosure to prevent misuse of the spending channel." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 220, 519 F.2d, at 869.

          We have found that § 608(e)(1) unconstitutionally in fringes

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upon First Amendment rights.94 If the sole function of § 434(e) were to aid in the enforcement of that provision, it would no longer serve any governmental purpose.

          But the two provisions are not so intimately tied. The legislative history on the function of § 434(e) is bare, but it was clearly intended to stand independently of § 608(e)(1). It was enacted with the general disclosure provisions in 1971 as part of the original Act,95 while § 608(e)(1) was part of the 1974 amendments.96 Like the other disclosure provisions, § 434(e) could play a role in the enforcement of the expanded contribution and expenditure limitations included in the 1974 amendments, but it also has independent functions. Section 434(e) is part of Congress' effort to achieve "total disclosure" by reaching "every kind of political activity" 97 in order to insure that the voters are fully informed and to achieve through publicity the maximum deterrence to corruption and undue influence possible. The provision is responsive to the legitimate fear that efforts would be made, as they had been in the past,98 to avoid the disclosure requirements by routing financial support of candidates through avenues not explicitly covered by the general provisions of the Act.

          In its effort to be all-inclusive, however, the provision raises serious problems of vagueness, particularly treacherous where, as here, the violation of its terms carries criminal penalties 99 and fear of incurring these sanctions

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may deter those who seek to exercise protected First Amendment rights.

          Section 434(e) applies to "(e)very person . . . who makes contributions or expenditures." "Contributions" and "expenditures" are defined in parallel provisions in terms of the use of money or other valuable assets "for the purpose of . . . influencing" the nomination or election of candidates for federal office.100 It is the ambiguity of this phrase that poses constitutional problems.

          Due process requires that a criminal statute provide adequate notice to a person of ordinary intelligence that his contemplated conduct is illegal, for "no man shall be held criminally responsible for conduct which he could not reasonably understand to be proscribed." United States v. Harriss, 347 U.S. 612, 617, 74 S.Ct. 808, 812, 98 L.Ed. 989 (1954). See also Papachristou v. City of Jacksonville, 405 U.S. 156, 92 S.Ct. 839, 31 L.Ed.2d 110 (1972). Where First Amendment rights are involved, an even "greater degree of specificity" is required. Smith v. Goguen, 415 U.S., at 573, 94 S.Ct., at 1247. See Grayned v. City of Rockford, 408 U.S. 104, 109, 92 S.Ct. 2294, 2299, 33 L.Ed.2d 222 (1972); Kunz v. New York, 340 U.S. 290, 71 S.Ct. 312, 95 L.Ed. 280 (1951).

          There is no legislative history to guide us in determining the scope of the critical phrase "for the purpose of . . . influencing." It appears to have been adopted without comment from earlier disclosure Acts.101 Congress "has voiced its wishes in (most) muted strains," leaving us to draw upon "those common-sense assumptions that must be made in determining direction without a compass." Rosado v. Wyman, 397 U.S. 397, 412, 90 S.Ct. 1207, 1218, 25 L.Ed.2d 442 (1970). Where the constitutional requirement of definiteness is at stake, we have the further obligation to construe the statute,

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if that can be done consistent with the legislature's purpose, to avoid the shoals of vagueness. United States v. Harriss, supra, 347 U.S., at 618, 74 S.Ct., at 812; United States v. Rumely, 345 U.S., at 45, 73 S.Ct., at 545.

          In enacting the legislation under review Congress addressed broadly the problem of political campaign financing. It wished to promote full disclosure of campaign-oriented spending to insure both the reality and the appearance of the purity and openness of the federal election process.102 Our task is to construe "for the purpose of . . . influencing," incorporated in § 434(e) through the definitions of "contributions" and "expenditures," in a manner that precisely furthers this goal.

          In Part I we discussed what constituted a "contribution" for purposes of the contribution limitations set forth in 18 U.S.C. § 608(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). 103 We construed that term to include not only contributions made directly or indirectly to a candidate, political party, or campaign committee, and contributions made to other organizations or individuals but earmarked for political purposes, but also all expenditures placed in cooperation with or with the consent of a candidate, his agents, or an authorized committee of the candidate. The definition of "contribution" in § 431(e) for disclosure purposes parallels the definition in Title 18 almost word for word, and we construe the former provision as we have the latter. So defined, "contributions" have a sufficiently close relationship to the goals of the Act, for they are connected with a candidate or his campaign.

          When we attempt to define "expenditure" in a similarly narrow way we encounter line-drawing problems

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of the sort we faced in 18 U.S.C. § 608(e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). Although the phrase, "for the purpose of . . . influencing" an election or nomination, differs from the language used in § 608(e)(1), it shares the same potential for encompassing both issue discussion and advocacy of a political result.104 The general requirement that "political committees" and candidates disclose their expenditures could raise similar vagueness problems, for "political committee" is defined only in terms of amount of annual "contributions" and "expenditures," 105 and could be interpreted to reach groups engaged purely in issue discussion. The lower courts have construed the words "political committee" more narrowly.106 To fulfill the purposes of the Act they need only encompass organizations that are under the control of a candidate or the major purpose of which is the nomination or election of a candidate. Expenditures of candidates and of "political committees" so construed can be assumed to fall within the core area sought to be addressed by Congress. They are, by definition, campaign related.

          But when the maker of the expenditure is not within these categories when it is an individual other than a candidate or a group other than a "political committee" 1075

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—the relation of the information sought to the purposes of the Act may be too remote. To insure that the reach of § 434(e) is not impermissibly broad, we construe "expenditure" for purposes of that section in the same way we construed the terms of § 608(e) to reach only funds used for communications that expressly advocate 108 the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate. This reading is directed precisely to that spending that is unambiguously related to the campaign of a particular federal candidate.

          In summary, § 434(e), as construed, imposes independent reporting requirements on individuals and groups that are not candidates or political committees only in the following circumstances: (1) when they make contributions earmarked for political purposes or authorized or requested by a candidate or his agent, to some person other than a candidate or political committee, and (2) when they make expenditures for communications that expressly advocate the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate.

          Unlike 18 U.S.C. § 608(e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), § 434(e), as construed, bears a sufficient relationship to a substantial governmental interest. As narrowed, § 434(e), like § 608(e)(1), does not reach all partisan discussion for it only requires disclosure of those expenditures that expressly advocate a particular election result. This might have been fatal if the only purpose of § 434(e)

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were to stem corruption or its appearance by closing a loophole in the general disclosure requirements. But the disclosure provisions, including § 434(e), serve another, informational interest, and even as construed § 434(e) increases the fund of information concerning those who support the candidates. It goes beyond the general disclosure requirements to shed the light of publicity on spending that is unambiguously campaign related but would not otherwise be reported because it takes the form of independent expenditures or of contributions to an individual or group not itself required to report the names of its contributors. By the same token, it is not fatal that § 434(e) encompasses purely independent expenditures uncoordinated with a particular candidate or his agent. The corruption potential of these expenditures may be significantly different, but the informational interest can be as strong as it is in coordinated spending, for disclosure helps voters to define more of the candidates' constituencies.

          Section 434(e), as we have construed it, does not contain the infirmities of the provisions before the Court in Talley v. California, 362 U.S. 60, 80 S.Ct. 536, 4 L.Ed.2d 559 (1960), and Thomas v. Collins, 323 U.S. 516, 65 S.Ct. 315, 89 L.Ed. 430 (1945). The ordinance found wanting in Talley forbade all distribution of handbills that did not contain the name of the printer, author, or manufacturer, and the name of the distributor. The city urged that the ordinance was aimed at identifying those responsible for fraud, false advertising, and libel, but the Court found that it was "in no manner so limited." 362 U.S., at 64, 80 S.Ct., at 538. Here, as we have seen, the disclosure requirement is narrowly limited to those situations where the information sought has a substantial connection with the governmental interests sought to be advanced. Thomas held unconstitutional a prior restraint in the form of a registration requirement for labor organizers.

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The Court found the State's interest insufficient to justify the restrictive effect of the statute. The burden imposed by § 434(e) is no prior restraint, but a reasonable and minimally restrictive method of furthering First Amendment values by opening the basic processes of our federal election system to public view.109

D. Thresholds

          Appellants' third contention, based on alleged overbreadth, is that the monetary thresholds in the record-keeping and reporting provisions lack a substantial nexus with the claimed governmental interests, for the amounts involved are too low even to attract the attention of the candidate, much less have a corrupting influence.

          The provisions contain two thresholds. Records are to be kept by political committees of the names and addresses of those who make contributions in excess of $10, § 432(c)(2), and these records are subject to Commission audit, § 438(a)(8). If a person's contributions to a committee or candidate aggregate more than $100, his name and address, as well as his occupation and principal place of business, are to be included in reports filed by committees and candidates with the Commission, § 434(b)(2), and made available for public inspection, § 438(a)(4).

          The Court of Appeals rejected appellants' contention that these thresholds are unconstitutional. It found the challenge on First Amendment grounds to the $10 threshold to be premature, for it could "discern no basis in the statute for authorizing disclosure outside the Com-

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mission . . ., and hence no substantial 'inhibitory effect' operating upon" appellants. 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 216, 519 F.2d, at 865. The $100 threshold was found to be within the "reasonable latitude" given the legislature "as to where to draw the line." Ibid. We agree.

          The $10 and $100 thresholds are indeed low. Contributors of relatively small amounts are likely to be especially sensitive to recording or disclosure of their political preferences. These strict requirements may well discourage participation by some citizens in the political process, a result that Congress hardly could have intended. Indeed, there is little in the legislative history to indicate that Congress focused carefully on the appropriate level at which to require recording and disclosure. Rather, it seems merely to have adopted the thresholds existing in similar disclosure laws since 1910.110 But we cannot require Congress to establish that it has chosen the highest reasonable threshold. The line is necessarily a judgmental decision, best left in the context of this complex legislation to congressional discretion. We cannot say, on this bare record, that the limits designated are wholly without rationality.111

          We are mindful that disclosure serves informational functions, as well as the prevention of corruption and the enforcement of the contribution limitations. Congress is not required to set a threshold that is tailored only to the latter goals. In addition, the enforcement

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goal can never be well served if the threshold is so high that disclosure becomes equivalent to admitting violation of the contribution limitations.

          The $10 recordkeeping threshold, in a somewhat similar fashion, facilitates the enforcement of the disclosure provisions by making it relatively difficult to aggregate secret contributions in amounts that surpass the $100 limit. We agree with the Court of Appeals that there is no warrant for assuming that public disclosure of contributions between $10 and $100 is authorized by the Act. Accordingly, we do not reach the question whether information concerning gifts of this size can be made available to the public without trespassing impermissibly on First Amendment rights. Cf. California Bankers Ass'n v. Shultz, 416 U.S., at 56-57, 94 S.Ct., at 1515.112

          In summary, we find no constitutional infirmities in the recordkeeping reporting, and disclosure provisions of the Act.113

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    III. PUBLIC FINANCING OF PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION CAMPAIGNS

          A series of statutes 114 for the public financing of Presidential election campaigns produced the scheme now found in § 6096 and Subtitle H of the Internal Revenue

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Code of 1954, 26 U.S.C. §§ 6096, 9001-9012, 9031-9042 (1970 ed., Supp. IV).115 Both the District Court, 401 F.Supp. 1235, and the Court of Appeals, 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 229-238, 519 F.2d, at 878-887, sustained Subtitle H against a constitutional attack.116 Appellants renew their challenge here, contending that the legislation violates the First and Fifth Amendments. We find no merit in their claims and affirm.

A. Summary of Subtitle H

          Section 9006 establishes a Presidential Election Campaign Fund (Fund), financed from general revenues in the aggregate amount designated by individual taxpayers, under § 6096, who on their income tax returns may authorize payment to the Fund of one dollar of their tax liability in the case of an individual return or two dollars in the case of a joint return. The Fund consists of three separate accounts to finance (1) party nominating conventions, § 9008(a), (2) general election campaigns, § 9006(a), and (3) primary campaigns, § 9037(a).117

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          Chapter 95 of Title 26, which concerns financing of party nominating conventions and general election campaigns, distinguishes among "major," "minor," and "new" parties. A major party is defined as a party whose candidate for President in the most recent election received 25% Or more of the popular vote. § 9002(6). A minor party is defined as a party whose candidate received at least 5% But less than 25% Of the vote at the most recent election. § 9002(7). All other parties are new parties, § 9002(8), including both newly created parties and those receiving less than 5% Of the vote in the last election.118

          Major parties are entitled to $2,000,000 to defray their national committee Presidential nominating convention expenses, must limit total expenditures to that amount, § 9008(d),119 and may not use any of this money to benefit a particular candidate or delegate, § 9008(c).

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A minor party receives a portion of the major-party entitlement determined by the ratio of the votes received by the party's candidate in the last election to the average of the votes received by the major parties' candidates. § 9008(b)(2). The amounts given to the parties and the expenditure limit are adjusted for inflation, using 1974 as the base year. § 9008(b)(5). No financing is provided for new parties, nor is there any express provision for financing independent candidates or parties not holding a convention.

          For expenses in the general election campaign, § 9004(a)(1) entitles each major-party candidate to $20,000,000.120 This amount is also adjusted for inflation. See § 9004(a)(1). To be eligible for funds the candidate 121 must pledge not to incur expenses in excess of the entitlement under § 9004(a) (1) and not to accept private contributions except to the extent that the fund is insufficient to provide the full entitlement. § 9003(b). Minor-party candidates are also entitled to funding, again based on the ratio of the vote received by the party's candidate in the preceding election to the average of the major-party candidates. § 9004(a)(2)(A). Minor-party candidates must certify that they will not incur campaign expenses in excess of the major-party entitlement and

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that they will accept private contributions only to the extent needed to make up the difference between that amount and the public funding grant. § 9003(c). New-party candidates receive no money prior to the general election, but any candidate receiving 5% Or more of the popular vote in the election is entitled to post-election payments according to the formula applicable to minor-party candidates. § 9004(a)(3). Similarly, minor-party candidates are entitled to post-election funds if they receive a greater percentage of the average major-party vote than their party's candidate did in the preceding election; the amount of such payments is the difference between the entitlement based on the preceding election and that based on the actual vote in the current election. § 9004(a)(3). A further eligibility requirement for minor- and new-party candidates is that the candidate's name must appear on the ballot, or electors pledged to the candidate must be on the ballot, in at least 10 States. § 9002(2)(B).

          Chapter 96 establishes a third account in the Fund, the Presidential Primary Matching Payment Account. § 9037(a). This funding is intended to aid campaigns by candidates seeking Presidential nomination "by a political party," § 9033(b)(2), in "primary elections," § 9032(7).122 The threshold eligibility requirement is that the candidate raise at least $5,000 in each of 20 States, counting only the first $250 from each person contributing to the candidate. § 9033(b)(3), (4). In addition, the candidate must agree to abide by the spending limits in § 9035. See § 9033(b)(1). 123 Funding is

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provided according to a matching formula: each qualified candidate is entitled to a sum equal to the total private contributions received, disregarding contributions from any person to the extent that total contributions to the candidate by that person exceed $250. § 9034(a). Payments to any candidate under Chapter 96 may not exceed 50% Of the overall expenditure ceiling accepted by the candidate. § 9034(b).

                          B. Constitutionality of Subtitle H

          Appellants argue that Subtitle H is invalid (1) as "contrary to the 'general welfare,' " Art. I, § 8(2) because any scheme of public financing of election campaigns is inconsistent with the First Amendment, and (3) because Subtitle H invidiously discriminates against certain interests in violation of the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment. We find no merit in these contentions.

          Appellants' "general welfare" contention erroneously treats the General Welfare Clause as a limitation upon congressional power. It is rather a grant of power, the scope of which is quite expansive, particularly in view of the enlargement of power by the Necessary and Proper Clause. McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 420, 4 L.Ed. 579 (1819). Congress has power to regulate Presidential elections and primaries, United States v. Classic, 313 U.S. 299, 61 S.Ct. 1031, 85 L.Ed. 1368 (1941); Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 54 S.Ct. 287, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934); and public financing of Presidential elections as a means to reform the electoral process was clearly a choice within the granted power. It is for Congress to decide which expenditures will promote the general welfare: "(T)he power of Congress to authorize expenditure of public moneys for public purposes is not

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limited by the direct grants of legislative power found in the Constitution." United States v. Butler, 297 U.S. 1, 66, 56 S.Ct. 312, 319, 80 L.Ed. 477 (1936). See Helvering v. Davis, 301 U.S. 619, 640-641, 57 S.Ct. 904, 908-909, 81 L.Ed. 1307 (1937). Any limitations upon the exercise of that granted power must be found elsewhere in the Constitution. In this case, Congress was legislating for the "general welfare" to reduce the deleterious influence of large contributions on our political process, to facilitate communication by candidates with the electorate, and to free candidates from the rigors of fundraising. See S.Rep.No.93-689, pp. 1-10 (1974). Whether the chosen means appear "bad," "unwise," or "unworkable" to us is irrelevant; Congress has concluded that the means are "necessary and proper" to promote the general welfare, and we thus decline to find this legislation without the grant of power in Art. I, § 8.

          Appellants' challenge to the dollar check-off provision (§ 6096) fails for the same reason. They maintain that Congress is required to permit taxpayers to designate particular candidates or parties as recipients of their money. But the appropriation to the Fund in § 9006 is like any other appropriation from the general revenue except that its amount is determined by reference to the aggregate of the one- and two-dollar authorization on taxpayers' income tax returns. This detail does not constitute the appropriation any less an appropriation by Congress.124 The fallacy of appellants' argument is therefore appar-

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ents every appropriation made by Congress uses public money in a manner to which some taxpayers object.125

          Appellants next argue that "by analogy" to the Religion Clauses of the First Amendment public financing of election campaigns, however meritorious, violates the First Amendment. We have, of course, held that the Religion Clauses "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof" require Congress, and the States through the Fourteenth Amendment, to remain neutral in matters of religion. E. g., Abington School Dist. v. Schempp, 374 U.S. 203, 222-226, 83 S.Ct. 1560, 1571-1573, 10 L.Ed.2d 844 (1963). The government may not aid one religion to the detriment of others or impose a burden on one religion that is not imposed on others, and may not even aid all religions. E. g., Everson v. Board of Education, 330 U.S. 1, 15-16, 67 S.Ct. 504, 511-512, 91 L.Ed. 711 (1947). See Kurland, Of Church and State and the Supreme Court, 29 U.Chi.L.Rev. 1, 96 (1961). But the analogy is patently inapplicable to our issue here. Although "Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press," Subtitle H is a congressional effort, not to abridge, restrict, or censor speech, but rather to use public money to facilitate and enlarge

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discussion and participation in the electoral process, goals vital to a self-governing people.126 Thus, Subtitle H furthers, not abridges, pertinent First Amendment values.127 Appellants argue, however, that as constructed public financing invidiously discriminates in violation of the Fifth Amendment. We turn therefore to that argument.

          Equal protection analysis in the Fifth Amendment area is the same as that under the Fourteenth Amendment. Weinberger v. Wiesenfeld, 420 U.S. 636, 638 n. 2, 95 S.Ct. 1225, 1228, 43 L.Ed.2d 514 (1975), and cases cited. In several situations concerning the electoral process, the principle has been

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developed that restrictions on access to the electoral process must survive exacting scrutiny. The restriction can be sustained only if it furthers a "vital" governmental interest, American Party of Texas v. White, 415 U.S. 767, 780-781, 94 S.Ct. 1296, 1305-1306, 39 L.Ed.2d 744 (1974), that is "achieved by a means that does not unfairly or unnecessarily burden either a minority party's or an individual candidate's equally important interest in the continued availability of political opportunity." Lubin v. Panish, 415 U.S. 709, 716, 94 S.Ct. 1315, 1320, 39 L.Ed.2d 702 (1974). See American Party of Texas v. White, supra, 415 U.S., at 780, 94 S.Ct., at 1305; Storer v. Brown, 415 U.S. 724, 729-730, 94 S.Ct. 1274, 1278-1279, 39 L.Ed.2d 714 (1974). These cases, however, dealt primarily with state laws requiring a candidate to satisfy certain requirements in order to have his name appear on the ballot. These were, of course, direct burdens not only on the candidate's ability to run for office but also on the voter's ability to voice preferences regarding representative government and contemporary issues. In contrast, the denial of public financing to some Presidential candidates is not restrictive of voters' rights and less restrictive of candidates'.128 Subtitle H does not prevent any candidate from getting on the ballot or any voter from casting a vote for the candidate of his choice; the inability, if any, of minor-party candidates to wage effective campaigns will derive not from lack of public funding but from their inability to

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raise private contributions. Any disadvantage suffered by operation of the eligibility formulae under Subtitle H is thus limited to the claimed denial of the enhancement of opportunity to communicate with the electorate that the formulae afford eligible candidates. But eligible candidates suffer a countervailing denial. As we more fully develop later, acceptance of public financing entails voluntary acceptance of an expenditure ceiling. Noneligible candidates are not subject to that limitation.129 Accordingly, we conclude that public financing is generally less restrictive of access to the electoral process than the ballot-access regulations dealt with in prior cases.130 In any event, Congress enacted Subtitle H in furtherance of sufficiently important governmental interests and has

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not unfairly or unnecessarily burdened the political opportunity of any party or candidate.

          It cannot be gainsaid that public financing as a means of eliminating the improper influence of large private contributions furthers a significant governmental interest. S.Rep.No.93-689, pp. 4-5 (1974). In addition, the limits on contributions necessarily increase the burden of fundraising, and Congress properly regarded public financing as an appropriate means of relieving major-party Presidential candidates from the rigors of soliciting private contributions. See id., at 5. The States have also been held to have important interests in limiting places on the ballot to those candidates who demonstrate substantial popular support. E. g., Storer v. Brown, supra, at 736, 94 S.Ct., at 1282; Lubin v. Panish, supra, 415 U.S., at 718-719, 94 S.Ct., at 1321; Jenness v. Fortson, 403 U.S. 431, 442, 91 S.Ct. 1970, 1976, 29 L.Ed.2d 554 (1971); Williams v. Rhodes, 393 U.S., at 31-33, 89 S.Ct., at 10-11. Congress' interest in not funding hopeless candidacies with large sums of public money, S.Rep.No.93-689, supra, at 7, necessarily justifies the withholding of public assistance from candidates without significant public support. Thus, Congress may legitimately require "some preliminary showing of a significant modicum of support," Jenness v. Fortson, supra, 403 U.S., at 442, 91 S.Ct., at 1976, as an eligibility requirement for public funds. This requirement also serves the important public interest against providing artificial incentives to "splintered parties and unrestrained factionalism." Storer v. Brown, supra, 415 U.S., at 736, 94 S.Ct., at 1282; S.Rep.No.93-689, supra, at 8; H.R.Rep.No.93-1239, p. 13 (1974). Cf. Bullock v. Carter, 405 U.S. 134, 145, 92 S.Ct. 849, 856, 31 L.Ed.2d 92 (1972).

          At the same time Congress recognized the constitutional restraints against inhibition of the present opportunity of minor parties to become major political entities if they obtain widespread support. S.Rep.No.93-689, supra, at 8-10; H.R.Rep.No.93-1239, supra, at 13. As

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the Court of Appeals said, "provisions for public funding of Presidential campaigns . . . could operate to give an unfair advantage to established parties, thus reducing, to the nation's detriment, . . . the 'potential fluidity of American political life.' " 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 231, 519 F.2d, at 880, quoting from Jenness v. Fortson, supra, 403 U.S., at 439, 91 S.Ct., at 1974.

1. General Election Campaign Financing

          Appellants insist that Chapter 95 falls short of the constitutional requirement in that its provisions supply larger, and equal, sums to candidates of major parties, use prior vote levels as the sole criterion for pre-election funding, limit new-party candidates to post-election funds, and deny any funds to candidates of parties receiving less than 5% Of the vote. These provisions, it is argued, are fatal to the validity of the scheme, because they work invidious discrimination against minor and new parties in violation of the Fifth Amendment. We disagree.131

          As conceded by appellants, the Constitution does not require Congress to treat all declared candidates the same for public financing purposes. As we said in Jenness v. Fortson, "there are obvious differences in kind between the needs and potentials of a political party with historically established broad support, on the one hand, and a new or small political organization on the other. . . . Sometimes the grossest discrimination can lie in treating

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things that are different as though they were exactly alike, a truism well illustrated in Williams v. Rhodes, supra." 403 U.S., at 441-442, 91 S.Ct., at 1976. Since the Presidential elections of 1856 and 1860, when the Whigs were replaced as a major party by the Republicans, no third party has posed a credible threat to the two major parties in Presidential elections.132 Third parties have been completely incapable of matching the major parties' ability to raise money and win elections. Congress was, of course, aware of this fact of American life, and thus was justified in providing both major parties full funding and all other parties only a percentage of the major-party entitlement.133 Identical treatment of all parties, on the other hand, "would not only make it easy to raid the United States Treasury, it would also artificially foster the proliferation of splinter parties." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 232, 519 F.2d, at 881. The Constitution does not require the Government to "finance the efforts of every nascent political group," American Party of Texas v. White, 415 U.S., at 794, 94 S.Ct., at 1312, merely because Congress chose to finance the efforts of the major parties.

          Furthermore, appellants have made no showing that

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the election funding plan disadvantages nonmajor parties by operating to reduce their strength below that attained without any public financing. First, such parties are free to raise money from private sources,134 and by our holding today new parties are freed from any expenditure limits, although admittedly those limits may be a largely academic matter to them. But since any major-party candidate accepting public financing of a campaign voluntarily assents to a spending ceiling, other candidates will be able to spend more in relation to the major-party candidates. The relative position of minor parties that do qualify to receive some public funds because they received 5% Of the vote in the previous Presidential election is also enhanced. Public funding for candidates of major parties is intended as a substitute for private contributions; but for minor-party candidates 135 such assistance may be viewed as a supplement to private contributions since these candidates may continue to solicit private funds up to the applicable spending limit. Thus, we conclude that the general election funding system does not work an invidious discrimination against candidates of nonmajor parties.

          Appellants challenge reliance on the vote in past elections as the basis for determining eligibility. That challenge is foreclosed, however, by our holding in Jenness v. Fortson, 403 U.S., at 439-440, 91 S.Ct., at 1974-1975, that popular vote totals in the last election are a proper measure of public sup-

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port. And Congress was not obliged to select instead from among appellants' suggested alternatives. Congress could properly regard the means chosen as preferable, since the alternative of petition drives presents cost and administrative problems in validating signatures, and the alternative of opinion polls might be thought inappropriate since it would involve a Government agency in the business of certifying polls or conducting its own investigation of support for various candidates, in addition to serious problems with reliability.136

          Appellants next argue, relying on the ballot-access decisions of this Court, that the absence of any alternative means of obtaining pre-election funding renders the scheme unjustifiably restrictive of minority political interests. Appellants' reliance on the ballot-access decisions is misplaced. To be sure, the regulation sustained in Jenness v. Fortson, for example, incorporated alternative means of qualifying for the ballot, 403 U.S., at 440, 91 S.Ct., at 1975, and the lack of an alternative was a defect in the scheme struck down in Lubin v. Panish, 415 U.S., at 718, 94 S.Ct., at 1320. To

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suggest, however, that the constitutionality of Subtitle H therefore hinges solely on whether some alternative is afforded overlooks the rationale of the operative constitutional principles. Our decisions finding a need for an alternative means turn on the nature and extent of the burden imposed in the absence of available alternatives. We have earlier stated our view that Chapter 95 is far less burdensome upon and restrictive of constitutional rights than the regulations involved in the ballot-access cases. See, supra, at 94-95. Moreover, expenditure limits for major parties and candidates may well improve the chances of nonmajor parties and their candidates to receive funds and increase their spending. Any risk of harm to minority interests is speculative due to our present lack of knowledge of the practical effects of public financing and cannot overcome the force of the governmental interests against use of public money to foster frivolous candidacies, create a system of splintered parties, and encourage unrestrained factionalism.

          Appellants' reliance on the alternative-means analyses of the ballot-access cases generally fails to recognize a significant distinction from the instant case. The primary goal of all candidates is to carry on a successful campaign by communicating to the voters persuasive reasons for electing them. In some of the ballot-access cases the States afforded candidates alternative means for qualifying for the ballot, a step in any campaign that, with rare exceptions, is essential to successful effort. Chapter 95 concededly provides only one method of obtaining pre-election financing; such funding is, however, not as necessary as being on the ballot. See n. 128, supra. Plainly, campaigns can be successfully carried out by means other than public financing; they have been up to this date, and this avenue is still open to all candidates. And, after all, the important achievements of mi-

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nority political groups in furthering the development of American democracy 137 were accomplished without the help of public funds. Thus, the limited participation or nonparticipation of nonmajor parties or candidates in public funding does not unconstitutionally disadvantage them.

          Of course, nonmajor parties and their candidates may qualify for post-election participation in public funding and in that sense the claimed discrimination is not total. Appellants contend, however, that the benefit of any such participation is illusory due to § 9004(c), which bars the use of the money for any purpose other than paying campaign expenses or repaying loans that had been used to defray such expenses. The only meaningful use for post-election funds is thus to repay loans; but loans, except from national banks, are"contributions" subject to the general limitations on contributions, 18 U.S.C. § 591(e) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). Further, they argue, loans are not readily available to nonmajor parties or candidates before elections to finance their campaigns. Availability of post-election funds therefore assertedly gives them nothing. But in the nature of things the willingness of lenders to make loans will depend upon the pre-election probability that the candidate and his party will attract 5% Or more of the voters. When a reasonable prospect of such support appears, the party and candidate may be an acceptable loan risk since the prospect of post-election participation in public funding will be good.138

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          [92,93] Finally, appellants challenge the validity of the 5% Threshold requirement for general election funding. They argue that, since most state regulations governing ballot access have threshold requirements well below 5%, and because in their view the 5% Requirement here is actually stricter than that upheld in Jenness v. Fortson, 403 U.S. 431, 91 S.Ct. 1970, 29 L.Ed.2d 554 (1971),139 the requirement is unreasonable. We have already concluded that the restriction under Chapter 95 is generally less burdensome than ballot-access regulations. Supra, at 94-95. Further, the Georgia provision sustained in Jenness required the candidate to obtain the signatures of 5% Of all eligible voters, without regard to party. To be sure, the public funding formula does not permit anyone who voted for another party in the last election to be part of a candidate's 5%. But under Chapter 95 a Presidential candidate needs only 5% Or more of the actual vote, not the larger universe of eligible voters. As a result, we cannot say that Chapter 95 is numerically more, or less, restrictive than the regulation in Jenness. In any event, the choice of the percentage requirement that best accommodates the competing interests involved was for Congress to make. See Louisville Gas Co. v. Coleman, 277 U.S. 32, 41, 48 S.Ct. 423, 426, 72 L.Ed. 770 (1928) (Holmes, J., dissenting); n. 111, supra. Without any doubt a range of formulations would sufficiently protect the public fisc and not foster factionalism, and would also recognize the public interest in the fluidity of our political

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affairs. We cannot say that Congress' choice falls without the permissible range.140

          The foregoing analysis and reasoning sustaining general election funding apply in large part to convention funding under Chapter 95 and suffice to support our rejection of appellants' challenge to these provisions. Funding of party conventions has increasingly been derived from large private contributions, see H.R.Rep. No. 93-1239, p. 14 (1974), and the governmental interest in eliminating this reliance is as vital as in the case of private contributions to individual candidates. The expenditure limitations on major parties participating in public financing enhance the ability of nonmajor parties to increase their spending relative to the major parties; further, in soliciting private contributions to finance conventions, parties are not subject to the $1,000 contribution limit pertaining to candidates.141 We therefore conclude that appellants' constitutional challenge to the

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provisions for funding nominating conventions must also be rejected.

          Appellants' final challenge is to the constitutionality of Chapter 96, which provides funding of primary campaigns. They contend that these provisions are constitutionally invalid (1) because they do not provide funds for candidates not running in party primaries 142 and (2) because the eligibility formula actually increases the influence of money on the electoral process. In not providing assistance to candidates who do not enter party primaries, Congress has merely chosen to limit at this time the reach of the reforms encompassed in Chapter 96. This Congress could do without constituting the reforms a constitutionally invidious discrimination. The governing principle was stated in Katzenbach v. Morgan, 384 U.S. 641, 657, 86 S.Ct. 1717, 1727, 16 L.Ed.2d 828 (1966):

          "(I)n deciding the constitutional propriety of the limitations in such a reform measure we are guided by the familiar principles that a 'statute is not invalid under the Constitution because it might have gone farther than it did,' Roschen v. Ward, 279 U.S. 337, 339, 49 S.Ct. 336, 73 L.Ed. 722, that a legislature need not 'strike at all evils at the same time,' Semler v. Dental Examiners, 294 U.S. 608, 610, 55 S.Ct. 570, 79 L.Ed. 1086, and that 'reform may take one step at a time, addressing itself to the phase of the problem which seems most acute to the legislative mind,' Williamson v. Lee Optical Co., 348 U.S. 483, 489, 75 S.Ct. 461, 99 L.Ed. 563." 143

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          The choice to limit matching funds to candidates running in primaries may reflect that concern about large private contributions to candidates centered on primary races and that there is no historical evidence of similar abuses involving contributions to candidates who engage in petition drives to qualify for state ballots. Moreover, assistance to candidates and nonmajor parties forced to resort to petition drives to gain ballot access implicates the policies against fostering frivolous candidacies, creating a system of splintered parties, and encouraging unrestrained factionalism.

          The eligibility requirements in Chapter 96 are surely not an unreasonable way to measure popular support for a candidate, accomplishing the objective of limiting subsidization to those candidates with a substantial chance of being nominated. Counting only the first $250 of each contribution for eligibility purposes requires candidates to solicit smaller contributions from numerous people. Requiring the money to come from citizens of a minimum number of States eliminates candidates whose appeal is limited geographically; a President is elected not by popular vote, but by winning the popular vote in enough States to have a majority in the Electoral College.144

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          [98] We also reject as without merit appellants' argument that the matching formula favors wealthy voters and candidates. The thrust of the legislation is to reduce financial barriers 145 and to enhance the importance of smaller contributions.146 Some candidates undoubtedly could raise large sums of money and thus have little need for public funds, but candidates with lesser fundraising capabilities will gain substantial benefits from matching funds. In addition, one eligibility requirement for

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matching funds is acceptance of an expenditure ceiling, and candidates with little fundraising ability will be able to increase their spending relative to candidates capable of raising large amounts in private funds.

          For the reasons stated, we reject appellants' claims that Subtitle H is facially unconstitutional.147

C. Severability

          The only remaining issue is whether our holdings invalidating 18 U.S.C. §§ 608(a), (c), and (e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) require the conclusion that Subtitle H is unconstitutional. There is, of course, a relationship between the spending limits in § 608(c) and the public financing provisions; the expenditure limits accepted by a candidate to be eligible for public funding are identical to the limits in § 608(c). But we have no difficulty in concluding that Subtitle H is severable. "Unless it is evident that the legislature would not have enacted those provisions which are within its power, independently of that which is not, the invalid part may be dropped if what is left is fully operative as a law." Champ-

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lin Refining Co. v. Corporation Commission, 286 U.S. 210, 234, 52 S.Ct. 559, 565, 76 L.Ed. 1062 (1932). Our discussion of "what is left" leaves no doubt that the value of public financing is not dependent on the existence of a generally applicable expenditure limit. We therefore hold Subtitle H severable from those portions of the legislation today held constitutionally infirm.

                          IV. THE FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

          The 1974 amendments to the Act create an eight-member Federal Election Commission (Commission), and vest in it primary and substantial responsibility for administering and enforcing the Act. The question that we address in this portion of the opinion is whether, in view of the manner in which a majority of its members are appointed, the Commission may under the Constitution exercise the powers conferred upon it. We find it unnecessary to parse the complex statutory provisions in order to sketch the full sweep of the Commission's authority. It will suffice for present purposes to describe what appear to be representative examples of its various powers.

          Chapter 14 of Title 2 148 makes the Commission the principal repository of the numerous reports and statements which are required by that chapter to be filed by those engaging in the regulated political activities. Its duties under § 438(a) with respect to these reports and statements include filing and indexing, making them available for public inspection, preservation, and auditing and field investigations. It is directed to "serve as a national clearinghouse for information in respect to the administration of elections." § 438(b).

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          Beyond these recordkeeping, disclosure, and investigative functions, however, the Commission is given extensive rulemaking and adjudicative powers. Its duty under § 438(a)(10) is "to prescribe suitable rules and regulations to carry out the provisions of . . . chapter (14)." Under § 437d(a)(8) the Commission is empowered to make such rules "as are necessary to carry out the provisions of this Act." 149 Section 437d(a)(9) authorizes it to "formulate general policy with respect to the administration of this Act" and enumerated sections of Title 18's Criminal Code,150 as to all of which provisions the Commission "has primary jurisdiction with respect to (their) civil enforcement." § 437c(b).151 The Commission is authorized under § 437f(a) to render advisory opinions with respect to activities possibly violating the Act, the Title 18 sections, or the campaign funding provisions of Title 26,152 the effect of which is that "(n)ot-

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withstanding any other provision of law, any person with respect to whom an advisory opinion is rendered . . . who acts in good faith in accordance with the provisions and findings (thereof) shall be presumed to be in compliance with the (statutory provision) with respect to which such advisory opinion is rendered." § 437f(b). In the course of administering the provisions for Presidential campaign financing, the Commission may authorize convention expenditures which exceed the statutory limits. 26 U.S.C. § 9008(d)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

          The Commission's enforcement power is both direct and wide ranging. It may institute a civil action for (i) injunctive or other relief against "any acts or practices which constitute or will constitute a violation of this Act," § 437g(a)(5); (ii) declaratory or injunctive relief "as may be appropriate to implement or con(s)true any provisions" of Chapter 95 of Title 26, governing administration of funds for Presidential election campaigns and national party conventions, 26 U.S.C. § 9011(b)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV); and (iii) "such injunctive relief as is appropriate to implement any provision" of Chapter 96 of Title 26, governing the payment of matching funds for Presidential primary campaigns, 26 U.S.C. § 9040(c) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). If after the Commission's post-disbursement audit of candidates receiving payments under Chapter 95 or 96 it finds an overpayment, it is empowered to seek repayment of all funds due the Secretary of the Treasury. 26 U.S.C. §§ 9010(b), 9040(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). In no respect do the foregoing civil actions require the concurrence of or participation by the Attorney General; conversely, the decision not to seek judicial relief in the above respects would appear to rest solely with the Commission.153 With respect to the

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referenced Title 18 sections, § 437g(a)(7) provides that if, after notice and opportunity for a hearing before it, the Commission finds an actual or threatened criminal violation, the Attorney General "upon request by the Commission . . . shall institute a civil action for relief." Finally, as "(a)dditional enforcement authority," § 456(a) authorizes the Commission, after notice and opportunity for hearing, to make "a finding that a person . . . while a candidate for Federal office, failed to file" a required report of contributions or expenditures. If that finding is made within the applicable limitations period

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for prosecutions, the candidate is thereby "disqualified from becoming a candidate in any future election for Federal office for a period of time beginning on the date of such finding and ending one year after the expiration of the term of the Federal office for which such person was a candidate." 154

          The body in which this authority is reposed consists of eight members.155 The Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House of Representatives are ex officio members of the Commission without the right to vote. Two members are appointed by the President pro tempore of the Senate "upon the recommendations of the majority leader of the Senate and the minority leader of the Senate." 156 Two more are to be appointed by the Speaker of the House of Representatives, likewise upon the recommendations of its respective majority and minority leaders. The remaining two members are appointed by the President. Each of the six voting members of the Commission must be confirmed by the majority of both Houses of Congress, and each of the three appointing authorities is forbidden to choose both of their appointees from the same political party.

A. Ripeness

          Appellants argue that given the Commission's extensive powers the method of choosing its members under § 437c(a)(1) runs afoul of the separation of powers embedded in the Constitution, and urge that as presently constituted the Commission's "existence be held unconstitutional by this Court." Before embarking on this or any

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related inquiry, however, we must decide whether these issues are properly before us. Because of the Court of Appeals' emphasis on lack of "ripeness" of the issue relating to the method of appointment of the members of the Commission, we find it necessary to focus particularly on that consideration in this section of our opinion.

          We have recently recognized the distinction between jurisdictional limitations imposed by Art. III and "(p)roblems of prematurity and abstractness" that may prevent adjudication in all but the exceptional case. Socialist Labor Party v. Gilligan, 406 U.S. 583, 588, 92 S.Ct. 1716, 1719, 32 L.Ed.2d 317 (1972). In Regional Rail Reorganization Act Cases, 419 U.S. 102, 140, 95 S.Ct. 335, 357, 42 L.Ed.2d 320 (1974), we stated that "ripeness is peculiarly a question of timing," and therefore the passage of months between the time of the decision of the Court of Appeals and our present ruling is of itself significant. We likewise observed in the Reorganization Act Cases:

          "Thus, occurrence of the conveyance allegedly violative of Fifth Amendment rights is in no way hypothetical or speculative. Where the inevitability of the operation of a statute against certain individuals is patent, it is irrelevant to the existence of a justiciable controversy that there will be a time delay before the disputed provisions will come into effect." Id., at 143, 95 S.Ct., at 358.

          The Court of Appeals held that of the five specific certified questions directed at the Commission's authority, only its powers to render advisory opinions and to authorize excessive convention expenditures were ripe for adjudication. The court held that the remaining aspects of the Commission's authority could not be adjudicated because "(in) its present stance, this litigation does not present the court with the concrete facts that are neces-

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sary to an informed decision."157 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 244, 519 F.2d, at 893.

            Since the entry of judgment by the Court of Appeals,

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the Commission has undertaken to issue rules and regulations under the authority of § 438(a)(10). While many of its other functions remain as yet unexercised, the date of their all but certain exercise is now closer

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by several months than it was at the time the Court of Appeals ruled. Congress was understandably most concerned with obtaining a final adjudication of as many issues as possible litigated pursuant to the provisions of § 437h. Thus, in order to decide the basic question whether the Act's provision for appointment of the members of the Commission violates the Constitution, we believe we are warranted in considering all of those aspects of the Commission's authority which have been presented by the certified questions.158

          Party litigants with sufficient concrete interests at stake may have standing to raise constitutional questions of separation of powers with respect to an agency designated to adjudicate their rights. Palmore v. United States, 411 U.S. 389, 93 S.Ct. 1670, 36 L.Ed.2d 342 (1973); Glidden Co. v. Zdanok, 370 U.S. 530, 82 S.Ct. 1459, 8 L.Ed.2d 671 (1962); Coleman v. Miller, 307 U.S. 433, 59 S.Ct. 972, 83 L.Ed. 1385 (1939). In Glidden, of course, the challenged adjudication had already taken place, whereas in this case appellants' claim is of impending future rulings and determinations by the Commission. But this is a question of ripeness, rather than lack of case or controversy under Art. III, and for the reasons to which we have previously

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adverted we hold that appellants' claims as they bear upon the method of appointment of the Commission's members may be presently adjudicated.

B. The Merits

          Appellants urge that since Congress has given the Commission wide-ranging rulemaking and enforcement powers with respect to the substantive provisions of the Act, Congress is precluded under the principle of separation of powers from vesting in itself the authority to appoint those who will exercise such authority. Their argument is based on the language of Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, of the Constitution, which provides in pertinent part as follows:

          "(The President) shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint . . . all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest 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."

          Appellants' argument is that this provision is the exclusive method by which those charged with executing the laws of the United States may be chosen. Congress, they assert, cannot have it both ways. If the Legislature wishes the Commission to exercise all of the conferred powers, then its members are in fact "Officers of the United States" and must be appointed under the Appointments Clause. But if Congress insists upon retaining the power to appoint, then the members of the Commission may not discharge those many functions of the Commission which can be performed only by "Officers of

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the United States," as that term must be construed within the doctrine of separation of powers.

          Appellee Commission and amici in support of the Commission urge that the Framers of the Constitution, while mindful of the need for checks and balances among the three branches of the National Government, had no intention of denying to the Legislative Branch authority to appoint its own officers. Congress, either under the Appointments Clause or under its grants of substantive legislative authority and the Necessary and Proper Clause in Art. I, is in their view empowered to provide for the appointment to the Commission in the manner which it did because the Commission is performing "appropriate legislative functions."

          The majority of the Court of Appeals recognized the importance of the doctrine of separation of powers which is at the heart of our Constitution, and also recognized the principle enunciated in Springer v. Philippine Islands, 277 U.S. 189, 48 S.Ct. 480, 72 L.Ed. 845 (1928), that the Legislative Branch may not exercise executive authority by retaining the power to appoint those who will execute its laws. But it described appellants' argument based upon Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, as "strikingly syllogistic," and concluded that Congress had sufficient authority under the Necessary and Proper Clause of Art. I of the Constitution not only to establish the Commission but to appoint the Commission's members. As we have earlier noted, it upheld the constitutional validity of congressional vesting of certain authority in the Commission, and concluded that the question of the constitutional validity of the vesting of its remaining functions was not yet ripe for review. The three dissenting judges in the Court of Appeals concluded that the method of appointment for the Commission did violate the doctrine of separation of powers.

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1. Separation of Powers

          We do not think appellants' arguments based upon Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, of the Constitution may be so easily dismissed as did the majority of the Court of Appeals. Our inquiry of necessity touches upon the fundamental principles of the Government established by the Framers of the Constitution, and all litigants and all of the courts which have addressed themselves to the matter start on common ground in the recognition of the intent of the Framers that the powers of the three great branches of the National Government be largely separate from one another.

          James Madison, writing in the Federalist No. 47,159 defended the work of the Framers against the charge that these three governmental powers were not entirely separate from one another in the proposed Constitution. He asserted that while there was some admixture, the Constitution was nonetheless true to Montesquieu's well-known maxim that the legislative, executive, and judicial departments ought to be separate and distinct:

          "The reasons on which Montesquieu grounds his maxim are a further demonstration of his meaning. 'When the legislative and executive powers are united in the same person or body,' says he, 'there can be no liberty, because apprehensions may arise lest the same monarch or senate should enact tyrannical laws to execute them in a tyrannical manner.' Again: 'Were the power of judging joined with the legislative, the life and liberty of the subject would be exposed to arbitrary control, for the judge would then be the legislator. Were it joined to the executive power, the judge might behave with all the violence of an oppressor.' Some of these reasons

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          are more fully explained in other passages; but briefly stated as they are here, they sufficiently establish the meaning which we have put on this celebrated maxim of this celebrated author." 160

          Yet it is also clear from the provisions of the Constitution itself, and from the Federalist Papers, that the Constitution by no means contemplates total separation of each of these three essential branches of Government. The President is a participant in the law-making process by virtue of his authority to veto bills enacted by Congress. The Senate is a participant in the appointive process by virtue of its authority to refuse to confirm persons nominated to office by the President. The men who met in Philadelphia in the summer of 1787 were practical statesmen, experienced in politics, who viewed the principle of separation of powers as a vital check against tyranny. But they likewise saw that a hermetic sealing off of the three branches of Government from one another would preclude the establishment of a Nation capable of governing itself effectively.

          Mr. Chief Justice Taft, writing for the Court in Hampton & Co. v. United States, 276 U.S. 394, 48 S.Ct. 348, 72 L.Ed. 624 (1928), after stating the general principle of separation of powers found in the United States Constitution, went on to observe:

          "(T)he rule is that in the actual administration of the government Congress or the Legislature should exercise the legislative power, the President or the state executive, the Governor, the executive power, and the courts or the judiciary the judicial power, and in carrying out that constitutional division into three branches it is a breach of the national fundamental law if Congress gives up its legislative power

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          and transfers it to the President, or to the judicial branch, or if by law it attempts to invest itself or its members with either executive power or judicial power. This is not to say that the three branches are not co-ordinate parts of one government and that each in the field of its duties may not invoke the action of the two other branches in so far as the action invoked shall not be an assumption of the constitutional field of action of another branch. In determining what it may do in seeking assistance from another branch, the extent and character of that assistance must be fixed according to common sense and the inherent necessities of the governmental co-ordination." Id., at 406, 48 S.Ct., at 351.

          More recently, Mr. Justice Jackson, concurring in the opinion and the judgment of the Court in Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U.S. 579, 635, 72 S.Ct. 863, 870, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1952), succinctly characterized this understanding:

          "While the Constitution diffuses power the better to secure liberty, it also contemplates that practice will integrate the dispersed powers into a workable government. It enjoins upon its branches separateness but interdependence, autonomy but reciprocity."

          The Framers regarded the checks and balances that they had built into the tripartite Federal Government as a self-executing safeguard against the encroachment or aggrandizement of one branch at the expense of the other. As Madison put it in Federalist No. 51:

          "This policy of supplying, by opposite and rival interests, the defect of better motives, might be traced through the whole system of human affairs, private as well as public. We see it particularly displayed in all the subordinate distributions of power, where the constant aim is to divide and arrange the

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          several offices in such a manner as that each may be a check on the other that the private interest of every individual may be a sentinel over the public rights. These inventions of prudence cannot be less requisite in the distribution of the supreme powers of the State." 161

          This Court has not hesitated to enforce the principle of separation of powers embodied in the Constitution when its application has proved necessary for the decisions of cases or controversies properly before it. The Court has held that executive or administrative duties of a nonjudicial nature may not be imposed on judges holding office under Art. III of the Constitution. United States v. Ferreira, 54 U.S. 40, 13 How. 40, 14 L.Ed. 42 (1852); Hayburn's Case, 2 U.S. 409, 2 Dall. 409, 1 L.Ed. 436 (1792). The Court has held that the President may not execute and exercise legislative authority belonging only to Congress. Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, supra. In the course of its opinion in that case, the Court said:

          "In the framework of our Constitution, the President's power to see that the laws are faithfully executed refutes the idea that he is to be a lawmaker. The Constitution limits his functions in the lawmaking process to the recommending of laws he thinks wise and the vetoing of laws he thinks bad. And the Constitution is neither silent nor equivocal about who shall make laws which the President is to execute. The first section of the first article says that 'All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States . . . .' " 343 U.S., at 587-588, 72 S.Ct., at 867.

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          More closely in point to the facts of the present case is this Court's decision in Springer v. Philippine Islands, 277 U.S. 189, 48 S.Ct. 480, 72 L.Ed. 845 (1928), where the Court held that the legislature of the Philippine Islands could not provide for legislative appointment to executive agencies.

2. The Appointments Clause

          The principle of separation of powers was not simply an abstract generalization in the minds of the Framers: it was woven into the document that they drafted in Philadelphia in the summer of 1787. Article I, § 1, declares: "All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States." Article II, § 1, vests the executive power "in a President of the United States of America," and Art. III, § 1, declares that "The judicial Power of the United States, shall be vested in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish." The further concern of the Framers of the Constitution with maintenance of the separation of powers is found in the so-called "Ineligibility" and "Incompatibility" Clauses contained in Art. I, § 6:

          "No Senator or Representative shall, during the Time for which he was elected, be appointed to any civil Office under the Authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the Emoluments whereof shall have been encreased during such time; and no Person holding any Office under the United States, shall be a Member of either House during his Continuance in Office."

          It is in the context of these cognate provisions of the document that we must examine the language of Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, which appellants contend provides the only authorization for appointment of those to whom substantial executive or administrative authority is given

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by statute. Because of the importance of its language, we again set out the provision:

          "(The President) shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest 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."

          The Appointments Clause could, of course, be read as merely dealing with etiquette or protocol in describing "Officers of the United States," but the drafters had a less frivolous purpose in mind. This conclusion is supported by language from United States v. Germaine, 99 U.S. 508, 509-510, 25 L.Ed. 482 (1879):

          "The Constitution for purposes of appointment very clearly divides all its officers into two classes. The primary class requires a nomination by the President and confirmation by the Senate. But foreseeing that when offices became numerous, and sudden removals necessary, this mode might be inconvenient, it was provided that, in regard to officers inferior to those specially mentioned, Congress might by law vest their appointment in the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the heads of departments. That all persons who can be said to hold an office under the government about to be established under the Constitution were intended to be included within one or the other of these modes of appointment there can be but little doubt." (Emphasis supplied.)

          We think that the term "Officers of the United States"

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as used in Art. II, defined to include "all persons who can be said to hold an office under the government" in United States v. Germaine, supra, is a term intended to have substantive meaning. We think its fair import is that any appointee exercising significant authority pursuant to the laws of the United States is an "Officer of the United States," and must, therefore, be appointed in the manner prescribed by § 2, cl. 2, of that Article.

          If "all persons who can be said to hold an office under the government about to be established under the Constitution were intended to be included within one or the other of these modes of appointment," United States v. Germaine, supra, it is difficult to see how the members of the Commission may escape inclusion. If a postmaster first class, Myers v. United States, 272 U.S. 52, 47 S.Ct. 21, 71 L.Ed. 160 (1926), and the clerk of a district court, Ex parte Hennen, 38 U.S. 225, 13 Pet. 230, 10 L.Ed. 138 (1839), are inferior officers of the United States within the meaning of the Appointments Clause, as they are, surely the Commissioners before us are at the very least such "inferior Officers" within the meaning of that Clause.162

            Although two members of the Commission are initially selected by the President, his nominations are subject to confirmation not merely by the Senate, but by the House of Representatives as well. The remaining four voting members of the Commission are appointed by the President pro tempore of the Senate and by the Speaker of the House. While the second part of the Clause

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authorizes Congress to vest the appointment of the officers described in that part in "the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments," neither the Speaker of the House nor the President pro tempore of the Senate comes within this language.

          The phrase "Heads of Departments," used as it is in conjunction with the phrase "Courts of Law," suggests that the Departments referred to are themselves in the Executive Branch or at least have some connection with that branch. While the Clause expressly authorizes Congress to vest the appointment of certain officers in the "Courts of Law," the absence of similar language to include Congress must mean that neither Congress nor its officers were included within the language "Heads of Departments" in this part of cl. 2.

          Thus with respect to four of the six voting members of the Commission, neither the President, the head of any department, nor the Judiciary has any voice in their selection.

          The Appointments Clause specifies the method of appointment only for "Officers of the United States" whose appointment is not "otherwise provided for" in the Constitution. But there is no provision of the Constitution remotely providing any alternative means for the selection of the members of the Commission or for anybody like them. Appellee Commission has argued, and the Court of Appeals agreed, that the Appointments Clause of Art. II should not be read to exclude the "inherent power of Congress" to appoint its own officers to perform functions necessary to that body as an institution. But there is no need to read the Appointments Clause contrary to its plain language in order to reach the result sought by the Court of Appeals. Article I, § 3, cl. 5, expressly authorizes the selection of the President pro tempore of the Senate, and § 2, cl. 5, of that Article provides

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for the selection of the Speaker of the House. Ranking nonmembers, such as the Clerk of the House of Representatives, are elected under the internal rules of each House 163 and are designated by statute as "officers of the Congress." 164 There is no occasion for us to decide whether any of these member officers are "Officers of the United States" whose "appointment" is otherwise provided for within the meaning of the Appointments Clause, since even if they were such officers their appointees would not be. Contrary to the fears expressed by the majority of the Court of Appeals, nothing in our holding with respect to Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, will deny to Congress "all power to appoint its own inferior officers to carry out appropriate legislative functions." 165

          Appellee Commission and amici contend somewhat obliquely that because the Framers had no intention of relegating Congress to a position below that of the coequal Judicial and Executive Branches of the National Government, the Appointments Clause must somehow be read to include Congress or its officers as among those

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in whom the appointment power may be vested. But the debates of the Constitutional Convention, and the Federalist Papers, are replete with expressions of fear that the Legislative Branch of the National Government will aggrandize itself at the expense of the other two branches.166 The debates during the Convention, and the evolution of the draft version of the Constitution, seem to us to lend considerable support to our reading of the language of the Appointments Clause itself.

          An interim version of the draft Constitution had vested in the Senate the authority to appoint Ambassadors, public Ministers, and Judges of the Supreme Court, and the language of Art. II as finally adopted is a distinct change in this regard. We believe that it was a deliberate change made by the Framers with the intent to deny Congress any authority itself to appoint those who were "Officers of the United States." The debates on the floor of the Convention reflect at least in part the way the change came about.

          On Monday, August 6, 1787, the Committee on Detail to which had been referred the entire draft of the Constitution reported its draft to the Convention, including the following two articles that bear on the question before us: 167

          Article IX, § 1: "The Senate of the United States shall have power . . . to appoint Ambassadors, and Judges of the Supreme Court."

          Article X, § 2: "(The President) shall commission all

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          the officers of the United States; and shall appoint officers in all cases not otherwise provided for by this Constitution."

          It will be seen from a comparison of these two articles that the appointment of Ambassadors and Judges of the Supreme Court was confided to the Senate, and that the authority to appoint not merely nominate, but to actually appoint all other officers was reposed in the President.

          During a discussion of a provision in the same draft from the Committee on Detail which provided that the "Treasurer" of the United States should be chosen by both Houses of Congress, Mr. Read moved to strike out that clause, "leaving the appointment of the Treasurer as of other officers to the Executive." 168 Opposition to Read's motion was based, not on objection to the principle of executive appointment, but on the particular nature of the office of the "Treasurer." 169

          On Thursday, August 23, the Convention voted to insert after the word "Ambassadors" in the text of draft Art. IX the words "and other public Ministers." Immediately afterwards, the section as amended was referred to the "Committee of Five." 170 The following day the Convention took up Art. X. Roger Sherman objected to the draft language of § 2 because it conferred too much power on the President, and proposed to insert after the words "not otherwise provided for by this Constitution" the words "or by law." This motion was defeated by a vote of nine States to one.171 On Septem-

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ber 3 the Convention debated the Ineligibility and Incompatibility Clauses which now appear in Art. I, and made the Ineligibility Clause somewhat less stringent.172

          Meanwhile, on Friday, August 31, a motion had been carried without opposition to refer such parts of the Constitution as had been postponed or not acted upon to a Committee of Eleven. Such reference carried with it both Arts. IX and X. The following week the Committee of Eleven made its report to the Convention, in which the present language of Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, dealing with the authority of the President to nominate is found, virtually word for word, as § 4 of Art. X.173 The same Committee also reported a revised article concerning the Legislative Branch to the Convention. The changes are obvious. In the final version, the Senate is shorn of its power to appoint Ambassadors and Judges of the Supreme Court. The President is given, not the power to appoint public officers of the United States, but only the right to nominate them, and a provision is inserted by virtue of which Congress may require Senate confirmation of his nominees.

          It would seem a fair surmise that a compromise had been made. But no change was made in the concept of the term "Officers of the United States," which since it had first appeared in Art. X had been taken by all concerned to embrace all appointed officials exercising responsibility under the public laws of the Nation.

          Appellee Commission and amici urge that because of what they conceive to be the extraordinary authority reposed in Congress to regulate elections, this case stands on a different footing than if Congress had exercised its legislative authority in another field. There is, of course, no doubt that Congress has express authority to regulate

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congressional elections, by virtue of the power conferred in Art. I, § 4.174 This Court has also held that it has very broad authority to prevent corruption in national Presidential elections. Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 54 S.Ct. 287, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934). But Congress has plenary authority in all areas in which it has substantive legislative jurisdiction, McCulloch v. Maryland, 17 U.S. 316, 4 W heat. 316, 4 L.Ed. 579 (1819), so long as the exercise of that authority does not offend some other constitutional restriction. We see no reason to believe that the authority of Congress over federal election practices is of such a wholly different nature from the other grants of authority to Congress that it may be employed in such a manner as to offend well-established constitutional restrictions stemming from the separation of powers.

          The position that because Congress has been given explicit and plenary authority to regulate a field of activity, it must therefore have the power to appoint those who are to administer the regulatory statute is both novel and contrary to the language of the Appointments Clause. Unless their selection is elsewhere provided for, all Officers of the United States are to be appointed in accordance with the Clause. Principal officers are selected by the President with the advice and consent of the Senate. Inferior officers Congress may allow to be appointed by the President alone, by the heads of departments, or by the Judiciary. No class or type of officer is excluded because of its special functions. The President appoints judicial as well as executive officers. Neither has it been disputed and apparently

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it is not now disputed that the Clause controls the appointment of the members of a typical administrative agency even though its functions, as this Court recognized in Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U.S. 602, 624, 55 S.Ct. 869, 872, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935), may be "predominantly quasijudicial and quasilegislative" rather than executive. The Court in that case carefully emphasized that although the members of such agencies were to be independent of the Executive in their day-to-day operations, the Executive was not excluded from selecting them. Id., at 625-626, 55 S.Ct., at 872.

          Appellees argue that the legislative authority conferred upon the Congress in Art. I, § 4, to regulate "the Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and Representatives" is augmented by the provision in § 5 that "Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members." Section 5 confers, however, not a general legislative power upon the Congress, but rather a power "judicial in character" upon each House of the Congress. Barry v. United States ex rel. Cunningham, 279 U.S. 597, 613, 49 S.Ct. 452, 455, 73 L.Ed. 867 (1929). The power of each House to judge whether one claiming election as Senator or Representative has met the requisite qualifications, Powell v. McCormack, 395 U.S. 486, 89 S.Ct. 1944, 23 L.Ed.2d 491 (1969), cannot reasonably be translated into a power granted to the Congress itself to impose substantive qualifications on the right to so hold such office. Whatever power Congress may have to legislate, such qualifications must derive from § 4, rather than § 5, of Art. I.

          Appellees also rely on the Twelfth Amendment to the Constitution insofar as the authority of the Commission to regulate practices in connection with the Presidential election is concerned. This Amendment provides that certificates of the votes of the electors be "sealed (and)

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directed to the President of the Senate," and that the "President of the Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the certificates and the votes shall then be counted." The method by which Congress resolved the celebrated disputed Hayes-Tilden election of 1876, reflected in 19 Stat. 227, supports the conclusion that Congress viewed this Amendment as conferring upon its two Houses the same sort of power "judicial in character," Barry v. United States ex rel. Cunningham, supra, 279 U.S., at 613, 49 S.Ct., at 455, as was conferred upon each House by Art. I, § 5, with respect to elections of its own members.

          We are also told by appellees and amici that Congress had good reason for not vesting in a Commission composed wholly of Presidential appointees the authority to administer the Act, since the administration of the Act would undoubtedly have a bearing on any incumbent President's campaign for re-election. While one cannot dispute the basis for this sentiment as a practical matter, it would seem that those who sought to challenge incumbent Congressmen might have equally good reason to fear a Commission which was unduly responsive to members of Congress whom they were seeking to unseat. But such fears, however rational, do not by themselves warrant a distortion of the Framers' work.

          Appellee Commission and amici finally contend, and the majority of the Court of Appeals agreed with them, that whatever shortcomings the provisions for the appointment of members of the Commission might have under Art. II, Congress had ample authority under the Necessary and Proper Clause of Art. I to effectuate this result. We do not agree. The proper inquiry when considering the Necessary and Proper Clause is not the authority of Congress to create an office or a commission, which is broad indeed, but rather its authority to

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that its own officers may make appointments to such office or commission.

          So framed, the claim that Congress may provide for this manner of appointment under the Necessary and Proper Clause of Art. I stands on no better footing than the claim that it may provide for such manner of appointment because of its substantive authority to regulate federal elections. Congress could not, merely because it concluded that such a measure was "necessary and proper" to the discharge of its substantive legislative authority, pass a bill of attainder or ex post facto law contrary to the prohibitions contained in § 9 of Art. I. No more may it vest in itself, or in its officers, the authority to appoint officers of the United States when the Appointments Clause by clear implication prohibits it from doing so.

          The trilogy of cases from this Court dealing with the constitutional authority of Congress to circumscribe the President's power to remove officers of the United States is entirely consistent with this conclusion. In Myers v. United States, 272 U.S. 52, 47 S.Ct. 21, 71 L.Ed. 160 (1926), the Court held that Congress could not by statute divest the President of the power to remove an officer in the Executive Branch whom he was initially authorized to appoint. In explaining its reasoning in that case, the Court said:

          "The vesting of the executive power in the President was essentially a grant of the power to execute the laws. But the President alone and unaided could not execute the laws. He must execute them by the assistance of subordinates. . . . As he is charged specifically to take care that they be faithfully executed, the reasonable implication, even in the absence of express words, was that as part of his executive power he should select those who were

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          to act for him under his direction in the execution of the laws.

          "Our conclusion on the merits, sustained by the arguments before stated, is that article 2 grants to the President the executive power of the government i. e., the general administrative control of those executing the laws, including the power of appointment and removal of executive officers a conclusion confirmed by his obligation to take care that the laws be faithfully executed . . . ." Id., at 117, 163-164, 47 S.Ct., at 25.

          In the later case of Humphrey's Executor, where it was held that Congress could circumscribe the President's power to remove members of independent regulatory agencies, the Court was careful to note that it was dealing with an agency intended to be independent of executive authority "except in its selection." 295 U.S., at 625, 55 S.Ct., at 872 (emphasis in original). Wiener v. United States, 357 U.S. 349, 78 S.Ct. 1275, 2 L.Ed.2d 1377 (1958), which applied the holding in Humphrey's Executor to a member of the War Claims Commission, did not question in any respect that members of independent agencies are not independent of the Executive with respect to their appointments.

          This conclusion is buttressed by the fact that Mr. Justice Sutherland, the author of the Court's opinion in Humphrey's Executor, likewise wrote the opinion for the Court in Springer v. Philippine Islands, 277 U.S. 189, 48 S.Ct. 480, 72 L.Ed. 845 (1928), in which it was said:

          "Not having the power of appointment, unless expressly granted or incidental to its powers, the legislature cannot ingraft executive duties were upon a legislative office, since that would be to usurp the power of appointment by indirection; though the case might be different if the additional duties

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          were devolved upon an appointee of the executive." Id., at 202, 48 S.Ct., at 482.

3. The Commission's Powers

          Thus, on the assumption that all of the powers granted in the statute may be exercised by an agency whose members have been appointed in accordance with the Appointments Clause,175 the ultimate question is which, if any, of those powers may be exercised by the present voting Commissioners, none of whom was appointed as provided by that Clause. Our previous description of the statutory provisions, see supra, at 109-113, disclosed that the Commission's powers fall generally into three categories: functions relating to the flow of necessary information receipt, dissemination, and investigation; functions with respect to the Commission's task of fleshing out the statute rulemaking and advisory opinions; and functions necessary to ensure compliance with the statute and rules informal procedures, administrative determinations and hearings, and civil suits.

          Insofar as the powers confided in the Commission are essentially of an investigative and informative nature, falling in the same general category as those powers which Congress might delegate to one of its own committees, there can be no question that the Commission as presently constituted may exercise them. Kilbourn v. Thompson, 103 U.S. 168, 26 L.Ed. 377 (1881); McGrain v. Daugherty,

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273 U.S. 135, 47 S.Ct. 319, 71 L.Ed. 580 (1927); Eastland v. United States Servicemen's Fund, 421 U.S. 491, 95 S.Ct. 1813, 44 L.Ed.2d 324 (1975). As this Court stated in McGrain, supra, 273 U.S., at 175, 47 S.Ct., at 329:

          "A legislative body cannot legislate wisely or effectively in the absence of information respecting the conditions which the legislation is intended to affect or change; and where the legislative body does not itself possess the requisite information which not infrequently is true recourse must be had to others who do possess it. Experience has taught that mere requests for such information often are unavailing, and also that information which is volunteered is not always accurate or complete; so some means of compulsion are essential to obtain what is needed. All this was true before and when the Constitution was framed and adopted. In that period the power of inquiry, with enforcing process, was regarded and employed as a necessary and appropriate attribute of the power to legislate, indeed, was treated as inhering in it."

          But when we go beyond this type of authority to the more substantial powers exercised by the Commission, we reach a different result. The Commission's enforcement power, exemplified by its discretionary power to seek judicial relief, is authority that cannot possibly be regarded as merely in aid of the legislative function of Congress. A lawsuit is the ultimate remedy for a breach of the law, and it is to the President, and not to the Congress, that the Constitution entrusts the responsibility to "take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed." Art. II, § 3.

          Congress may undoubtedly under the Necessary and Proper Clause create "offices" in the generic sense and provide such method of appointment to those "offices" as it chooses. But Congress' power under that Clause

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is inevitably bounded by the express language of Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, and unless the method it provides comports with the latter, the holders of those offices will not be "Officers of the United States." They may, therefore, properly perform duties only in aid of those functions that Congress may carry out by itself, or in an area sufficiently removed from the administration and enforcement of the public law as to permit their being performed by persons not "Officers of the United States."

          This Court observed more than a century ago with respect to litigation conducted in the courts of the United States:

          "Whether tested, therefore, by the requirements of the Judiciary Act, or by the usage of the government, or by the decisions of this court, it is clear that all such suits, so far as the interests of the United States are concerned, are subject to the direction, and within the control of, the Attorney-General." Confiscation Cases, 74 U.S. 454, 458-459, 7 Wall. 454, 458-459, 19 L.Ed. 196 (1869).

          The Court echoed similar sentiments 59 years later in Springer v. Philippine Islands, 277 U.S., at 202, 48 S.Ct., at 482, saying:

          "Legislative power, as distinguished from executive power, is the authority to make laws, but not to enforce them or appoint the agents charged with the duty of such enforcement. The latter are executive functions. It is unnecessary to enlarge further upon the general subject, since it has so recently received the full consideration of this court. Myers v. United States, 272 U.S. 52, 47 S.Ct. 21, 71 L.Ed. 160.

          "Not having the power of appointment, unless expressly granted or incidental to its powers, the legislature cannot ingraft executive duties upon a legislative office, since that would be to usurp the power of appointment by indirection, though the

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          case might be different if the additional duties were devolved upon an appointee of the executive."

          We hold that these provisions of the Act, vesting in the Commission primary responsibility for conducting civil litigation in the courts of the United States for vindicating public rights, violate Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, of the Constitution. Such functions may be discharged only by persons who are "Officers of the United States" within the language of that section.

          All aspects of the Act are brought within the Commission's broad administrative powers: rulemaking, advisory opinions, and determinations of eligibility for funds and even for federal elective office itself. These functions, exercised free from day-to-day supervision of either Congress 176 or the Executive Branch, are more legislative and judicial in nature than are the Commis-

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sion's enforcement powers, and are of kinds usually performed by independent regulatory agencies or by some department in the Executive Branch under the direction of an Act of Congress. Congress viewed these broad powers as essential to effective and impartial administration of the entire substantive framework of the Act. Yet each of these functions also represents the performance of a significant governmental duty exercised pursuant to a public law. While the President may not insist that such functions be delegated to an appointee of his removable at will, Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U.S. 602, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935), none of them operates merely in aid of congressional authority to legislate or is sufficiently removed from the administration and enforcement of public law to allow it to be performed by the present Commission. These administrative functions may therefore be exercised only by persons who are "Officers of the United States." 177

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          [118] It is also our view that the Commission's inability to exercise certain powers because of the method by which its members have been selected should not affect the validity of the Commission's administrative actions and determinations to this date, including its administration of those provisions, upheld today, authorizing the public financing of federal elections. The past acts of the Commission are therefore accorded de facto validity, just as we have recognized should be the case with respect to legislative acts performed by legislators held to have been elected in accordance with an unconstitutional apportionment plan. Connor v. Williams, 404 U.S. 549, 550-551, 92 S.Ct. 656, 658, 30 L.Ed.2d 704 (1972). See Ryan v. Tinsley, 316 F.2d 430, 431-432 (CA10 1963); Schaefer v. Thomson, 251 F.Supp. 450, 453 (Wyo.1965), aff'd sub nom. Harrison v. Schaeffer, 383 U.S. 269, 86 S.Ct. 929, 15 L.Ed.2d 750 (1966). Cf. City of Richmond v. United States, 422 U.S. 358, 379, 95 S.Ct. 2296, 2308, 45 L.Ed.2d 245 (1975) (Brennan, J., dissenting). We also draw on the Court's practice in

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the apportionment and voting rights cases and stay, for a period not to exceed 30 days, the Court's judgment insofar as it affects the authority of the Commission to exercise the duties and powers granted it under the Act. This limited stay will afford Congress an opportunity to reconstitute the Commission by law or to adopt other valid enforcement mechanisms without interrupting enforcement of the provisions the Court sustains, allowing the present Commission in the interim to function de facto in accordance with the substantive provisions of the Act. Cf. Georgia v. United States, 411 U.S. 526, 541, 93 S.Ct. 1702, 1711, 36 L.Ed.2d 472 (1973); Fortson v. Morris, 385 U.S. 231, 235, 87 S.Ct. 446, 449, 17 L.Ed.2d 330 (1966); Maryland Comm. v. Tawes, 377 U.S. 656, 675-676, 84 S.Ct. 1429, 1440, 12 L.Ed.2d 595 (1964).

CONCLUSION

          In summary,178 we sustain the individual contribution limits, the disclosure and reporting provisions, and the public financing scheme. We conclude, however, that the limitations on campaign expenditures, on independent expenditures by individuals and groups, and on expenditures by a candidate from his personal funds are constitutionally infirm. Finally, we hold that most of the powers conferred by the Act upon the Federal Election Commission can be exercised only by "Officers of the United States," appointed in conformity with Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, of the Constitution, and therefore cannot be exercised by the Commission as presently constituted.

          In No. 75-436, the judgment of the Court of Appeals

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is affirmed in part and reversed in part. The judgment of the District Court in No. 75-437 is affirmed. The mandate shall issue forthwith, except that our judgment is stayed, for a period not to exceed 30 days, insofar as it affects the authority of the Commission to exercise the duties and powers granted it under the Act.

          So ordered.

          Mr. Justice STEVENS took no part in the consideration or decision of these cases.

                            APPENDIX TO PER CURIAM OPINION *

TITLE 2. THE CONGRESS

                        CHAPTER 14 FEDERAL ELECTION CAMPAIGNS

          SUBCHAPTER I. DISCLOSURE OF FEDERAL CAMPAIGN FUNDS

s 431. Definitions

          When used in this subchapter and subchapter II of this chapter

          (a) "election" means

          (1) a general, special, primary, or runoff election;

          (2) a convention or caucus of a political party held to nominate a candidate;

          (3) a primary election held for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party; and

          (4) a primary election held for the expression of a preference for the nomination of persons for election to the office of President;

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          (b) "candidate" means an individual who seeks nomination for election, or election, to Federal office, whether or not such individual is elected, and, for purposes of this paragraph, an individual shall be deemed to seek nomination for election, or election, if he has

          (1) taken the action necessary under the law of a State to qualify himself for nomination for election, or election, to Federal office; or

          (2) received contributions or made expenditures, or has given his consent for any other person to receive contributions or make expenditures, with a view to bringing about his nomination for election, or election, to such office;

          (c) "Federal office" means the office of President or Vice President of the United States; or of Senator or Representative in, or Delegate or Resident Commissioner to, the Congress of the United States;

          (d) "political committee" means any committee, club, association, or other group of persons which receives contributions or makes expenditures during a calendar year in an aggregate amount exceeding $1,000;

          (e) "contribution"

          (1) means a gift, subscription, loan, advance, or deposit of money or anything of value made for the purpose of

          (A) influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office or for the purpose of influencing the results of a primary held for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party; or

          (B) influencing the result of an election held for the expression of a preference for the nomination of persons for election to the office of President of the United States;

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          (2) means a contract, promise, or agreement, expressed or implied, whether or not legally enforceable, to make a contribution for such purposes;

          (3) means funds received by a political committee which are transferred to such committee from another political committee or other source;

          (4) means the payment, by any person other than a candidate or a political committee, of compensation for the personal services of another person which are rendered to such candidate or political committee without charge for any such purpose; but

          (5) does not include

          (A) the value of services provided without compensation by individuals who volunteer a portion or all of their time on behalf of a candidate or political committee;

          (B) the use of real or personal property and the cost of invitations, food, and beverages, voluntarily provided by an individual to a candidate in rendering voluntary personal services on the individual's residential premises for candidate-related activities;

          (C) the sale of any food or beverage by a vendor for use in a candidate's campaign at a charge less than the normal comparable charge, if such charge for use in a candidate's campaign is at least equal to the cost of such food or beverage to the vendor;

          (D) any unreimbursed payment for travel expenses made by an individual who on his own behalf volunteers his personal services to a candidate;

          (E) the payment by a State or local committee of a political party of the costs of prepa-

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          ration, display, or mailing or other distribution incurred by such committee with respect to a printed slate card or sample ballot, or other printed listing, of three or more candidates for any public office for which an election is held in the State in which such committee is organized, except that this clause shall not apply in the case of costs incurred by such committee with respect to a display of any such listing made on broadcasting stations, or in newspapers, magazines, or other similar types of general public political advertising; or

          (F) any payment made or obligation incurred by a corporation or a labor organization which, under the provisions of the last paragraph of section 610 of Title 18, would not constitute an expenditure by such corporation or labor organization; to the extent that the cumulative value of activities by any individual on behalf of any candidate under each of clauses (B), (C), and (D) does not exceed $500 with respect to any election;

          (f) "expenditure"

          (1) means a purchase, payment, distribution, loan, advance, deposit, or gift of money or anything of value, made for the purpose of

          (A) influencing the nomination for election, or the election, of any person to Federal office, or to the office of presidential and vice presidential elector; or

          (B) influencing the results of a primary election held for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party or for the expression of a preference for

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          the nomination of persons for election to the office of President of the United States;

          (2) means a contract, promise, or agreement, express or implied, whether or not legally enforceable, to make any expenditure;

          (3) means the transfer of funds by a political committee to another political committee; but

          (4) does not include

          (A) any news story, commentary, or editorial distributed through the facilities of any broadcasting station, newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication, unless such facilities are owned or controlled by any political party, political committee, or candidate;

          (B) nonpartisan activity designed to encourage individuals to register to vote or to vote;

          (C) any communication by any membership organization or corporation to its members or stockholders, if such membership organization or corporation is not organized primarily for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office;

          (D) the use of real or personal property and the cost of invitations, food, and beverages, voluntarily provided by an individual to a candidate in rendering voluntary personal services on the individual's residential premises for candidate-related activities if the cumulative value of such activities by such individual on behalf of any candidate do (sic ) not exceed $500 with respect to any election;

          (E) any unreimbursed payment for travel expenses made by an individual who on his own behalf volunteers his personal services to a candidate if the cumulative amount for such individual incurred with respect to such candi-

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          date does not exceed $500 with respect to any election;

          (F) any communication by any person which is not made for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office; or

          (G) the payment by a State or local committee of a political party of the costs of preparation, display, or mailing or other distribution incurred by such committee with respect to a printed slate card or sample ballot, or other printed listing, of three or more candidates for any public office for which an election is held in the State in which such committee is organized, except that this clause shall not apply in the case of costs incurred by such committee with respect to a display of any such listing made on broadcasting stations, or in newspapers, magazines or other similar types of general public political advertising; or

          (H) any payment made or obligation incurred by a corporation or a labor organization which, under the provisions of the last paragraph of section 610 of Title 18, would not constitute an expenditure by such corporation or labor organization;

          (g) "Commission" means the Federal Election Commission;

          (h) "person" means an individual, partnership, committee, association, corporation, labor organization, and any other organization or group of persons;

          (i) "State" means each State of the United States, the District of Columbia, the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico, and any territory or possession of the United States;

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          (j) "identification" means

          (1) in the case of an individual, his full name and the full address of his principal place of residence; and

          (2) in the case of any other person, the full name and address of such person;

          (k) "national committee" means the organization which, by virtue of the bylaws of a political party, is responsible for the day-to-day operation of such political party at the national level, as determined by the Commission;

          (l) "State committee" means the organization which, by virtue of the bylaws of a political party, is responsible for the day-to-day operation of such political party at the State level, as determined by the Commission;

          (m) "political party" means an association, committee, or organization which nominates a candidate for election to any Federal office, whose name appears on the election ballot as the candidate of such association, committee, or organization; and

          (n) "principal campaign committee" means the principal campaign committee designated by a candidate under section 432(f)(1) of this title.

s 432. Organization of political committees.

          (a) Chairman; treasurer; vacancies; official authorizations. Every political committee shall have a chairman and a treasurer. No contribution and no expenditure shall be accepted or made by or on behalf of a political committee at a time when there is a vacancy in the office of chairman or treasurer thereof. No expenditure shall be made for or on behalf of a political committee without the authorization of its chairman or treasurer, or their designated agents.

          (b) Account of contributions; segregated funds.

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Every person who receives a contribution in excess of $10 for a political committee shall, on demand of the treasurer, and in any event within 5 days after receipt of such contribution, render to the treasurer a detailed account thereof, including the amount of the contribution and the identification of the person making such contribution, and the date on which received. All funds of a political committee shall be segregated from, and may not be commingled with, any personal funds of officers, members, or associates of such committee.

          (c) Recordkeeping. It shall be the duty of the treasurer of a political committee to keep a detailed and exact account of

          (1) all contributions made to or for such committee;

          (2) the identification of every person making a contribution in excess of $10, and the date and amount thereof and, if a person's contributions aggregate more than $100, the account shall include occupation, and the principal place of business (if any);

          (3) all expenditures made by or on behalf of such committee; and

          (4) the identification of every person to whom any expenditure is made, the date and amount thereof and the name and address of, and office sought by, each candidate on whose behalf such expenditure was made.

          (d) Receipts; preservation. It shall be the duty of the treasurer to obtain and keep a receipted bill, stating the particulars, for every expenditure made by or on behalf of a political committee in excess of $100 in amount, and for any such expenditure in a lesser amount, if the aggregate amount of such expenditures to the same person during a calendar year exceeds $100. The

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shall preserve all receipted bills and accounts required to be kept by this section for periods of time to be determined by the Commission.

          (e) Unauthorized activities; notice. Any political committee which solicits or receives contributions or makes expenditures on behalf of any candidate that is not authorized in writing by such candidate to do so shall include a notice on the face or front page of all literature and advertisements published in connection with such candidate's campaign by such committee or on its behalf stating that the committee is not authorized by such candidate and that such candidate is not responsible for the activities of such committee.

          (f) Principal campaign committees; one candidate limitation; office of President: national committee for candidate; duties. (1) Each individual who is a candidate for Federal office (other than the office of Vice President of the United States) shall designate a political committee to serve as his principal campaign committee. No political committee may be designated as the principal campaign committee of more than one candidate, except that the candidate for the office of President of the United States nominated by a political party may designate the national committee of such political party as his principal campaign committee. Except as provided in the preceding sentence, no political committee which supports more than one candidate may be designated as a principal campaign committee.

          (2) Notwithstanding any other provision of this subchapter, each report or statement of contributions received or expenditures made by a political committee (other than a principal campaign committee) which is required to be filed with the Commission under this subchapter shall be filed instead with the principal campaign

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committee for the candidate on whose behalf such contributions are accepted or such expenditures are made.

          (3) It shall be the duty of each principal campaign committee to receive all reports and statements required to be filed with it under paragraph (2) of this subsection and to compile and file such reports and statements, together with its own reports and statements, with the Commission in accordance with the provisions of this subchapter.

s 433. Registration of political committees.

          (a) Statements of organization. Each political committee which anticipates receiving contributions or making expenditures during the calendar year in an aggregate amount exceeding $1,000 shall file with the Commission a statement of organization, within 10 days after its organization or, if later, 10 days after the date on which it has information which causes the committee to anticipate it will receive contributions or make expenditures in excess of $1,000. Each such committee in existence at the date of enactment of this Act shall file a statement of organization with the Commission at such time as it prescribes.

          (b) Contents of statements. The statement of organization shall include

          (1) the name and address of the committee;

          (2) the names, addresses, and relationships of affiliated or connected organizations;

          (3) the area, scope, or jurisdiction of the committee;

          (4) the name, address, and position of the custodian of books and accounts;

          (5) the name, address, and position of other principal officers, including officers and members of the finance committee, if any;

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          (6) the name, address, office sought, and party affiliation of

          (A) each candidate whom the committee is supporting; and

          (B) any other individual, if any, whom the committee is supporting for nomination for election, or election, to any public office whatever; or, if the committee is supporting the entire ticket of any party, the name of the party;

          (7) a statement whether the committee is a continuing one;

          (8) the disposition of residual funds which will be made in the event of dissolution;

          (9) a listing of all banks, safety deposit boxes, or other repositories used;

          (10) a statement of the reports required to be filed by the committee with State or local officers, and, if so, the names, addresses, and positions of such persons; and

          (11) such other information as shall be required by the Commission.

          (c) Information changes; report. Any change in information previously submitted in a statement of organization shall be reported to the Commission within a 10-day period following the change.

          (d) Disbanding of political committees or contributions and expenditures below prescribed ceiling; notice. Any committee which, after having filed one or more statements of organization, disbands or determines it will no longer receive contributions or make expenditures during the calendar year in an aggregate amount exceeding $1,000 shall so notify the Commission.

          (e) Filing reports and notifications with appropriate principal campaign committees. In the case of a political

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committee which is not a principal campaign committee, reports and notifications required under this section to be filed with the Commission shall be filed instead with the appropriate principal campaign committee.

s 434. rEPORTS BY POLITICAL COMMITTEES AND CANDIDATes.

          (a) Receipts and expenditures; completion date, exception.

          (1) Except as provided by paragraph (2), each treasurer of a political committee supporting a candidate or candidates for election to Federal office, and each candidate for election to such office, shall file with the Commission reports of receipts and expenditures on forms to be prescribed or approved by it. The reports referred to in the preceding sentence shall be filed as follows:

          (A)(i) In any calendar year in which an individual is a candidate for Federal office and an election for such Federal office is held in such year, such reports shall be filed not later than the 10th day before the date on which such election is held and shall be complete as of the 15th day before the date of such election; except that any such report filed by registered or certified mail must be postmarked not later than the close of the 12th day before the date of such election.

          (ii) Such reports shall be filed not later than the 30th day after the day of such election and shall be complete as of the 20th day after the date of such election.

          (B) In any other calendar year in which an individual is a candidate for Federal office, such reports shall be filed after December 31 of such calendar year, but not later than January 31 of the following calendar year and shall be complete as of the close of the calendar year with respect to which the report is filed.

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          (C) Such reports shall be filed not later than the 10th day following the close of any calendar quarter in which the candidate or political committee concerned received contributions in excess of $1,000, or made expenditures in excess of $1,000, and shall be complete as of the close of such calendar quarter; except that any such report required to be filed after December 31 of any calendar year with respect to which a report is required to be filed under subparagraph (B) shall be filed as provided in such subparagraph.

          (D) When the last day for filing any quarterly report required by subparagraph (C) occurs within 10 days of an election, the filing of such quarterly report shall be waived and superseded by the report required by subparagraph (A)(i).

          Any contribution of $1,000 or more received after the 15th day, but more than 48 hours, before any election shall be reported within 48 hours after its receipt.

          (2) Each treasurer of a political committee which is not a principal campaign committee shall file the reports required under this section with the appropriate principal campaign committee.

          (3) Upon a request made by a presidential candidate or a political committee which operates in more than one State, or upon its own motion, the Commission may waive the reporting dates set forth in paragraph (1) (other than the reporting date set forth in paragraph (1)(B)), and require instead that such candidate or political committee file reports not less frequently than monthly. The Commission may not require a presidential candidate or a political committee operating in more than one State to file more than 12 reports (not counting any report referred to in paragraph (1)(B)) during any calendar year. If the Commission acts on its own motion

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under this paragraph with respect to a candidate or a political committee, such candidate or committee may obtain judicial review in accordance with the provisions of chapter 7 of Title 5.

          (b) Contents of reports. Each report under this section shall disclose

          (1) the amount of cash on hand at the beginning of the reporting period;

          (2) the full name and mailing address (occupation and the principal place of business, if any) of each person who has made one or more contributions to or for such committee or candidate (including the purchase of tickets for events such as dinners, luncheons, rallies, and similar fundraising events) within the calendar year in an aggregate amount or value in excess of $100, together with the amount and date of such contributions;

          (3) the total sum of individual contributions made to or for such committee or candidate during the reporting period and not reported under paragraph (2);

          (4) the name and address of each political committee or candidate from which the reporting committee or the candidate received, or to which that committee or candidate made, any transfer of funds, together with the amounts and dates of all transfers;

          (5) each loan to or from any person within the calendar year in an aggregate amount or value in excess of $100, together with the full names and mailing addresses (occupations and the principal places of business, if any) of the lender, endorsers, and guarantors, if any, and the date and amount of such loans;

          (6) the total amount of proceeds from

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          (A) the sale of tickets to each dinner, luncheon, rally, and other fundraising event;

          (B) mass collections made at such events; and

          (C) sales of items such as political campaign pins, buttons, badges, flags, emblems, hats, banners, literature, and similar materials;

          (7) each contribution, rebate, refund, or other receipt in excess of $100 not otherwise listed under paragraphs (2) through (6);

          (8) the total sum of all receipts by or for such committee or candidate during the reporting period, together with total expenditures less transfers between political committees which support the same candidate and which do not support more than one candidate;

          (9) the identification of each person to whom expenditures have been made by such committee or on behalf of such committee or candidate within the calendar year in an aggregate amount or value in excess of $100, the amount, date, and purpose of each such expenditure and the name and address of, and office sought by, each candidate on whose behalf such expenditure was made;

          (10) the identification of each person to whom an expenditure for personal services, salaries, and reimbursed expenses in excess of $100 has been made, and which is not otherwise reported, including the amount, date, and purpose of such expenditure;

          (11) the total sum of expenditures made by such committee or candidate during the calendar year, together with total receipts less transfers between political committees which support the same candidate and which do not support more than one candidate;

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          (12) the amount and nature of debts and obligations owed by or to the committee, in such form as the supervisory officer may prescribe and a continuous reporting of their debts and obligations after the election at such periods as the Commission may require until such debts and obligations are extinguished, together with a statement as to the circumstances and conditions under which any such debt or obligation is extinguished and the consideration therefor; and

          (13) such other information as shall be required by the Commission.

          (c) Cumulative reports for calendar year; amounts for unchanged items carried forward; statement of inactive status. The reports required to be filed by subsection (a) of this section shall be cumulative during the calendar year to which they relate, but where there has been no change in an item reported in a previous report during such year, only the amount need be carried forward. If no contributions or expenditures have been accepted or expended during a calendar year, the treasurer of the political committee or candidate shall file a statement to that effect.

          (d) Members of Congress; reporting exemption. This section does not require a Member of the Congress to report, as contributions received or as expenditures made, the value of photographic, matting, or recording services furnished to him by the Senate Recording Studio, the House Recording Studio, or by an individual whose pay is disbursed by the Secretary of the Senate or the Clerk of the House of Representatives and who furnishes such services as his primary duty as an employee of the Senate or House of Representatives, or if such services were paid for by the Republican or Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee, the Democratic National Congressional

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Committee, or the National Republican Congressional Committee. This subsection does not apply to such recording services furnished during the calendar year before the year in which the Member's term expires.

          (e) Reports by other than political committees. Every person (other than a political committee or candidate) who makes contributions or expenditures, other than by contribution to a political committee or candidate, in an aggregate amount in excess of $100 within a calendar year shall file with the Commission a statement containing the information required by this section. Statements required by this subsection shall be filed on the dates on which reports by political committees are filed but need not be cumulative.

s 437a. Reports by certain persons; exemptions.

          Any person (other than an individual) who expends any funds or commits any act directed to the public for the purpose of influencing the outcome of an election, or who publishes or broadcasts to the public any material referring to a candidate (by name, description, or other reference) advocating the election or defeat of such candidate, setting forth the candidate's position on any public issue, his voting record, or other official acts (in the case of a candidate who holds or has held Federal office), or otherwise designed to influence individuals to cast their votes for or against such candidate or to withhold their votes from such candidate shall file reports with the Commission as if such person were a political committee. The reports filed by such person shall set forth the source of the funds used in carrying out any activity described in the preceding sentence in the same detail as if the funds were contributions within the meaning of section 431(e) of this title, and payments of such funds in the same detail as if they were expenditures within the meaning of section 431(f) of this title. The pro-

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visions of this section do not apply to any publication or broadcast of the United States Government or to any news story, commentary, or editorial distributed through the facilities of a broadcasting station or a bona fide newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication. A news story, commentary, or editorial is not considered to be distributed through a bona fide newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication if

          (1) such publication is primarily for distribution to individuals affiliated by membership or stock ownership with the person (other than an individual) distributing it or causing it to be distributed, and not primarily for purchase by the public at newsstands or paid by subscription; or

          (2) the news story, commentary, or editorial is distributed by a person (other than an individual) who devotes a substantial part of his activities to attempting to influence the outcome of elections, or to influence public opinion with respect to matters of national or State policy or concern.

s 437c. Federal Election Commission.

          (a) Establishment; membership; term of office; vacancies; qualifications; compensation; chairman and vice chairman.

          (1) There is established a commission to be known as the Federal Election Commission. The Commission is composed of the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House of Representatives, ex officio and without the right to vote, and six members appointed as follows:

          (A) two shall be appointed, with the confirmation of a majority of both Houses of the Congress, by the President pro tempore of the Senate upon the recommendations of the majority leader of the Senate and the minority leader of the Senate;

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          (B) two shall be appointed, with the confirmation of a majority of both Houses of the Congress, by the Speaker of the House of Representatives, upon the recommendations of the majority leader of the House and the minority leader of the House; and

          (C) two shall be appointed, with the confirmation of a majority of both Houses of the Congress, by the President of the United States.

          A member appointed under subparagraph (A), (B), or (C) shall not be affiliated with the same political party as the other member appointed under such paragraph.

          (2) Members of the Commission shall serve for terms of 6 years, except that of the members first appointed

          (A) one of the members appointed under paragraph (1)(A) shall be appointed for a term ending on the April 30 first occurring more than 6 months after the date on which he is appointed;

          (B) one of the members appointed under paragraph (1)(B) shall be appointed for a term ending 1 year after the April 30 on which the term of the member referred to in subparagraph (A) of this paragraph ends;

          (C) one of the members appointed under paragraph (1)(C) shall be appointed for a term ending 2 years thereafter;

          (D) one of the members appointed under paragraph (1)(A) shall be appointed for a term ending 3 years thereafter;

          (E) one of the members appointed under paragraph (1)(B) shall be appointed for a term ending 4 years thereafter; and

          (F) one of the members appointed under para-

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          graph (1)(C) shall be appointed for a term ending 5 years thereafter.

          An individual appointed to fill a vacancy occurring other than by the expiration of a term of office shall be appointed only for the unexpired term of the member he succeeds. Any vacancy occurring in the membership of the Commission shall be filled in the same manner as in the case of the original appointment.

          (3) Members shall be chosen on the basis of their maturity, experience, integrity, impartiality, and good judgment and shall be chosen from among individuals who, at the time of their appointment, are not elected or appointed officers or employees in the executive, legislative, or judicial branch of the Government of the United States.

          (4) Members of the Commission (other than the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House of Representatives) shall receive compensation equivalent to the compensation paid at level IV of the Executive Schedule (5 U.S.C. 5315).

          (5) The Commission shall elect a chairman and a vice chairman from among its members (other than the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House of Representatives) for a term of one year. No member may serve as chairman more often than once during any term of office to which he is appointed. The chairman and the vice chairman shall not be affiliated with the same political party. The vice chairman shall act as chairman in the absence or disability of the chairman, or in the event of a vacancy in such office.

          (b) Administration, enforcement, and formulation of policy; primary jurisdiction of civil enforcement.

          The Commission shall administer, seek to obtain compliance with, and formulate policy with respect to this Act and sections 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616,

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and 617 of Title 18. The Commission has primary jurisdiction with respect to the civil enforcement of such provisions.

          (c) Voting requirement; nondelegation of function.

          All decisions of the Commission with respect to the exercise of its duties and powers under the provisions of this subchapter shall be made by a majority vote of the members of the Commission. A member of the Commission may not delegate to any person his vote or any decisionmaking authority or duty vested in the Commission by the provisions of this subchapter.

          (d) Meetings.

          The Commission shall meet at least once each month and also at the call of any member.

          (e) Rules for conduct of activities; seal, judicial notice; principal office.

          The Commission shall prepare written rules for the conduct of its activities, shall have an official seal which shall be judicially noticed, and shall have its principal office in or near the District of Columbia (but it may meet or exercise any of its powers anywhere in the United States).

          (f) Staff director and general counsel: appointment and compensation; appointment and compensation of personnel and procurement of intermittent services by staff director; use of assistance, personnel, and facilities of Federal agencies and departments.

          (1) The Commission shall have a staff director and a general counsel who shall be appointed by the Commission. The staff director shall be paid at a rate not to exceed the rate of basic pay in effect for level IV of the Executive Schedule (5 U.S.C. 5315). The general counsel shall be paid at a rate not to exceed the rate of basic pay in effect for level V of the Executive Schedule (5 U.S.C. 5316). With the approval of the

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Commission, the staff director may appoint and fix the pay of such additional personnel as he considers desirable.

          (2) With the approval of the Commission, the staff director may procure temporary and intermittent services to the same extent as is authorized by section 3109(b) of Title 5, but at rates for individuals not to exceed the daily equivalent of the annual rate of basic pay in effect for grade GS-15 of the general schedule (5 U.S.C. 5332).

          (3) In carrying out its responsibilities under this Act, the Commission shall, to the fullest extent practicable, avail itself of the assistance, including personnel and facilities, of other agencies and departments of the United States Government. The heads of such agencies and departments may make available to the Commission such personnel, facilities, and other assistance, with or without reimbursement, as the Commission may request.

s 437d. Powers of Commission.

          (a) Specific enumeration.

          The Commission has the power

          (1) to require, by special or general orders, any person to submit in writing such reports and answers to questions as the Commission may prescribe; and such submission shall be made within such a reasonable period of time and under oath or otherwise as the Commission may determine;

          (2) to administer oaths or affirmations;

          (3) to require by subpoena, signed by the chairman or the vice chairman, the attendance and testimony of witnesses and the production of all documentary evidence relating to the execution of its duties;

          (4) in any proceeding or investigation, to order testimony to be taken by deposition before any person who is designated by the Commission and has

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          the power to administer oaths and, in such instances, to compel testimony and the production of evidence in the same manner as authorized under paragraph (3) of this subsection;

          (5) to pay witnesses the same fees and mileage as are paid in like circumstances in the courts of the United States;

          (6) to initiate (through civil proceedings for injunctive, declaratory, or other appropriate relief), defend, or appeal any civil action in the name of the Commission for the purpose of enforcing the provisions of this Act, through its general counsel;

          (7) to render advisory opinions under section 437 of this title;

          (8) to make, amend, and repeal such rules, pursuant to the provisions of chapter 5 of Title 5, as are necessary to carry out the provisions of this Act;

          (9) to formulate general policy with respect to the administration of this Act and sections 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, and 617 of Title 18;

          (10) to develop prescribed forms under subsection (a)(1) of this section; and

          (11) to conduct investigations and hearings expeditiously, to encourage voluntary compliance, and to report apparent violations to the appropriate law enforcement authorities.

          (b) Judicial orders for compliance with subpenas and orders of Commission; contempt of court.

          Any United States district court within the jurisdiction of which any inquiry is carried on, may, upon petition by the Commission, in case of refusal to obey a subpoena or order of the Commission issued under subsection (a) of this section, issue an order requiring compliance therewith. Any failure to obey the order of the

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court may be punished by the court as a contempt thereof.

          (c) Civil liability for disclosure of information.

          No person shall be subject to civil liability to any person (other than the Commission or the United States) for disclosing information at the request of the Commission.

          (d) Transmittal to Congress: Budget estimates or requests and legislative recommendations; prior transmittal to Congress: legislative recommendations.

          (1) Whenever the Commission submits any budget estimate or request to the President of the United States or the Office of Management and Budget, it shall concurrently transmit a copy of such estimate or request to the Congress.

          (2) Whenever the Commission submits any legislative recommendations, or testimony, or comments on legislation, requested by the Congress or by any Member of the Congress, to the President of the United States or the Office of Management and Budget, it shall concurrently transmit a copy thereof to the Congress or to the Member requesting the same. No officer or agency of the United States shall have any authority to require the Commission to submit its legislative recommendations, testimony, or comments on legislation, to any office or agency of the United States for approval, comments, or review, prior to the submission of such recommendations, testimony, or comments to the Congress.

s 437e. Reports to President and Congress.

          The Commission shall transmit reports to the President of the United States and to each House of the Congress no later than March 31 of each year. Each such report shall contain a detailed statement with respect to the activities of the Commission in carrying out its duties under this subchapter, together with recommendations

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for such legislative or other action as the Commission considers appropriate.

s 437f. Advisory opinions.

          (a) Written requests; written opinions within reasonable time; specific transactions or activities constituting violations of provisions.

          Upon written request to the Commission by any individual holding Federal office, any candidate for Federal office, or any political committee, the Commission shall render an advisory opinion, in writing, within a reasonable time with respect to whether any specific transaction or activity by such individual, candidate, or political committee would constitute a violation of this Act, of chapter 95 or chapter 96 of Title 26, or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18.

          (b) Presumption of compliance with provisions based on good faith actions.

          Notwithstanding any other provision of law, any person with respect to whom an advisory opinion is rendered under subsection (a) of this section who acts in good faith in accordance with the provisions and findings of such advisory opinion shall be presumed to be in compliance with the provision of this Act, of chapter 95 or chapter 96 of Title 26, or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18, with respect to which such advisory opinion is rendered.

          (c) Requests made public; transmittal to Commission of comments of interested parties with respect to such requests.

          Any request made under subsection (a) shall be made public by the Commission. The Commission shall before rendering an advisory opinion with respect to such request, provide any interested party with an opportunity to transmit written comments to the Commission with respect to such request.

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s 437g. Enforcement.

          (a) Violations; complaints and referrals; notification and investigation by Commission: venue, judicial orders; referral to law enforcement authorities: civil actions by Attorney General: venue, judicial orders, bond; subpenas; review by courts of appeals: time for petition, finality of judgment; review by Supreme Court; docket: advancement and priorities.

          (1)(A) Any person who believes a violation of this Act or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18, has occurred may file a complaint with the Commission.

          (B) In any case in which the Clerk of the House of Representatives or the Secretary of the Senate (who receive reports and statements as custodian for the Commission) has reason to believe a violation of this act or section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18 has occurred he shall refer such apparent violation to the Commission.

          (2) The Commission upon receiving any complaint under paragraph (1)(A), or a referral under paragraph (1)(B), or if it has reason to believe that any person has committed a violation of any such provision, shall notify the person involved of such apparent violation and shall

          (A) report such apparent violation to the Attorney General; or

          (B) make an investigation of such apparent violation.

          (3) Any investigation under paragraph (2)(B) shall be conducted expeditiously and shall include an investigation of reports and statements filed by any complainant under this subchapter, if such complainant is a candidate. Any notification or investigation made under paragraph (2) shall not be made public by the Commission or by

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any other person without the written consent of the person receiving such notification or the person with respect to whom such investigation is made.

          (4) The Commission shall, at the request of any person who receives notice of an apparent violation under paragraph (2), conduct a hearing with respect to such apparent violation.

          (5) If the Commission determines, after investigation, that there is reason to believe that any person has engaged, or is about to engage in any acts or practices which constitute or will constitute a violation of this Act, it may endeavor to correct such violation by informal methods of conference, conciliation, and persuasion. If the Commission fails to correct the violation through informal methods, it may institute a civil action for relief, including a permanent or temporary injunction, restraining order, or any other appropriate order in the district court of the United States for the district in which the person against whom such action is brought is found, resides, or transacts business. Upon a proper showing that such person has engaged or is about to engage in such acts or practices, the court shall grant a permanent or temporary injunction, restraining order, or other order.

          (6) The Commission shall refer apparent violations to the appropriate law enforcement authorities to the extent that violations of provisions of chapter 29 of Title 18 are involved, or if the Commission is unable to correct apparent violations of this Act under the authority given it by paragraph (5), or if the Commission determines that any such referral is appropriate.

          (7) Whenever in the judgment of the Commission, after affording due notice and an opportunity for a hearing, any person has engaged or is about to engage in any acts or practices which constitute or will constitute a violation of any provision of this Act or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18,

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upon request by the Commission the Attorney General on behalf of the United States shall institute a civil action for relief, including a permanent or temporary injunction, restraining order, or any other appropriate order in the district court of the United States for the district in which the person is found, resides, or transacts business. Upon a proper showing that such person has engaged or is about to engage in such acts or practices, a permanent or temporary injunction, restraining order, or other order shall be granted without bond by such court.

          (8) In any action brought under paragraph (5) or (7) of this subsection, subpenas for witnesses who are required to attend a United States district court may run into any other district.

          (9) Any party aggrieved by an order granted under paragraph (5) or (7) of this subsection may, at any time within 60 days after the date of entry thereof, file a petition with the United States court of appeals for the circuit in which such order was issued for judicial review of such order.

          (10) The judgment of the court of appeals affirming or setting aside, in whole or in part, any such order of the district court shall be final, subject to review by the Supreme Court of the United States upon certiorari or certification as provided in section 1254 of Title 28.

          (11) Any action brought under this subsection shall be advanced on the docket of the court in which filed, and put ahead of all other actions (other than other actions brought under this subsection or under section 437h of this title).

          (b) Reports of Attorney General to Commission respecting action taken; reports of Commisson respecting status of referrals.

          In any case in which the Commission refers an apparent violation to the Attorney General, the Attorney

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General shall respond by report to the Commission with respect to any action taken by the Attorney General regarding such apparent violation. Each report shall be transmitted no later than 60 days after the date the Commission refers any apparent violation, and at the close of every 30-day period thereafter until there is final disposition of such apparent violation. The Commission may from time to time prepare and publish reports on the status of such referrals.

s 437h. Judicial review.

          (a) Actions, including declaratory judgments, for construction of constitutional questions; eligible plaintiffs; certification of such questions to courts of appeals sitting en banc.

          The Commission, the national committee of any political party, or any individual eligible to vote in any election for the office of President of the United States may institute such actions in the appropriate district court of the United States, including actions for declaratory judgment, as may be appropriate to construe the constitutionality of any provision of this Act or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18. The district court immediately shall certify all questions of constitutionality of this Act or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18, to the United States court of appeals for the circuit involved, which shall hear the matter sitting en banc.

          (b) Appeal to Supreme Court; time for appeal.

          Notwithstanding any other provision of law, any decision on a matter certified under subsection (a) of this section shall be reviewable by appeal directly to the Supreme Court of the United States. Such appeal shall be brought no later than 20 days after the decision of the court of appeals.

          (c) Advancement on appellate docket and expedited deposition of certified questions.

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          It shall be the duty of the court of appeals and of the Supreme Court of the United States to advance on the docket and to expedite to the greatest possible extent the disposition of any matter certified under subsection (a) of this section.

s 438. administrative and judicial provisions.

          (a) Federal Election Commission; duties.

          It shall be the duty of the Commission

          (1) Forms. To develop and furnish to the person required by the provisions of this Act prescribed forms for the making of the reports and statements required to be filed with it under this subchapter;

          (2) Manual for uniform bookkeeping and reporting methods. To prepare, publish, and furnish to the person required to file such reports and statements a manual setting forth recommended uniform methods of bookkeeping and reporting;

          (3) Filing, coding, and cross-indexing system. To develop a filing, coding, and cross-indexing system consonant with the purposes of this subchapter;

          (4) Public inspection; copies; sale or use restrictions. To make the reports and statements filed with it available for public inspection and copying, commencing as soon as practicable but not later than the end of the second day following the day during which it was received, and to permit copying of any such report or statement by hand or by duplicating machine, as requested by any person, at the expense of such person: Provided, That any information copied from such reports and statements shall not be sold or utilized by any person for the purpose of soliciting contributions or for any commercial purpose;

          (5) Preservation of reports and statements. To preserve such reports and statements for a period of

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          10 years from date of receipt, except that reports and statements relating solely to candidates for the House of Representatives shall be preserved for only 5 years from the date of receipt;

          (6) Index of reports and statements; publication in Federal Register. To compile and maintain a cumulative index of reports and statements filed with it, which shall be published in the Federal Register at regular intervals and which shall be available for purchase directly or by mail for a reasonable price;

          (7) Special reports; publication. To prepare and publish from time to time special reports listing those candidates for whom reports were filed as required by this subchapter and those candidates for whom such reports were not filed as so required;

          (8) Audits; investigations. To make from time to time audits and field investigations with respect to reports and statements filed under the provisions of this subchapter, and with respect to alleged failures to file any report or statement required under the provisions of this subchapter;

          (9) Enforcement authorities; reports of violations. To report apparent violations of law to the appropriate law enforcement authorities; and

          (10) Rules and regulations. To prescribe suitable rules and regulations to carry out the provisions of this subchapter, in accordance with the provisions of subsection (c) of this section.

          (b) Commission; duties: national clearinghouse for information; studies, scope, publication, copies to general public at cost. It shall be the duty of the Commission to serve as a national clearinghouse for information in respect to the administration of elections. In carrying out its duties under this subsection, the Commission shall enter into contracts for the purpose of conducting inde-

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pendent studies of the administration of elections. Such studies shall include, but shall not be limited to, studies of

          (1) the method of selection of, and the type of duties assigned to, officials and personnel working on boards of elections;

          (2) practices relating to the registration of voters; and

          (3) voting and counting methods.

          Studies made under this subsection shall be published by the Commission and copies thereof shall be made available to the general public upon the payment of the cost thereof.

          (c) Proposed rules or regulations; statement, transmittal to Congress; Presidential elections and Congressional elections; "legislative days" defined.

          (1) The Commission, before prescribing any rule or regulation under this section, shall transmit a statement with respect to such rule or regulation to the Senate or the House of Representatives, as the case may be, in accordance with the provisions of this subsection. Such statement shall set forth the proposed rule or regulation and shall contain a detailed explanation and justification of such rule or regulation.

          (2) If the appropriate body of the Congress which receives a statement from the Commission under this subsection does not, through appropriate action, disapprove the proposed rule or regulation set forth in such statement no later than 30 legislative days after receipt of such statement, then the Commission may prescribe such rule or regulation. In the case of any rule or regulation proposed to deal with reports or statements required to be filed under this subchapter by a candidate for the office of Presi-

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          dent of the United States, and by political committees supporting such a candidate both the Senate and the House of Representatives shall have the power to disapprove such proposed rule or regulation. The Commission may not prescribe any rule or regulation which is disapproved under this paragraph.

          (3) If the Commission proposes to prescribe any rule or regulation dealing with reports or statements required to be filed under this subchapter by a candidate for the office of Senator, and by political committees supporting such candidate, it shall transmit such statement to the Senate. If the Commission proposes to prescribe any rule or regulation dealing with reports or statements required to be filed under this subchapter by a candidate for the office of Representative, Delegate, or Resident Commissioner, and by political committees supporting such candidate, it shall transmit such statement to the House of Representatives. If the Commission proposes to prescribe any rule or regulation dealing with reports or statements required to be filed under this subchapter by a candidate for the office of President of the United States, and by political committees supporting such candidate it shall transmit such statement to the House of Representatives and the Senate.

          (4) For purposes of this subsection, the term "legislative days" does not include, with respect to statements transmitted to the Senate, any calendar day on which the Senate is not in session, and with respect to statements transmitted to the House of Representatives, any calendar day on which the House of Representatives is not in session, and with respect to statements transmitted to both such bodies, any calendar day on which both Houses of the Congress are not in session.

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          (d) Rules and regulations; issuance; custody of reports and statements; Congressional cooperation.

          (1) The Commission shall prescribe suitable rules and regulations to carry out the provisions of this subchapter, including such rules and regulations as may be necessary to require that

          (A) reports and statements required to be filed under this subchapter by a candidate for the office of Representative in, or Delegate or Resident Commissioner to, the Congress of the United States, and by political committees supporting such candidate, shall be received by the Clerk of the House of Representatives as custodian for the Commission;

          (B) reports and statements required to be filed under this subchapter by a candidate for the office of Senator, and by political committees supporting such candidate, shall be received by the Secretary of the Senate as custodian for the Commission; and

          (C) the Clerk of the House of Representatives and the Secretary of the Senate, as custodians for the Commission, each shall make the reports and statements received by him available for public inspection and copying in accordance with paragraph (4) of subsection (a) of this section, and preserve such reports and statements in accordance with paragraph (5) of subsection (a) of this section.

          (2) It shall be the duty of the Clerk of the House of Representatives and the Secretary of the Senate to cooperate with the Commission in carrying out its duties under this Act and to furnish such services and facilities as may be required in accordance with this section.

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          § 439. Statements filed with State officers

          (a) "Appropriate State" defined. A copy of each statement required to be filed with the Commission by this subchapter shall be filed with the Secretary of State (or, if there is no office of Secretary of State, the equivalent State officer) of the appropriate State. For purposes of this subsection, the term "appropriate State" means

          (1) for reports relating to expenditures and contributions in connection with the campaign for nomination for election, or election, of a candidate to the office of President or Vice President of the United States, each State in which an expenditure is made by him or on his behalf, and

          (2) for reports relating to expenditures and contributions in connection with the campaign for nomination for election, or election, of a candidate to the office of Senator or Representative in, or Delegate or Resident Commissioner to, the Congress of the United States, the State in which he seeks election.

          (b) Duties of State officers. It shall be the duty of the Secretary of State, or the equivalent State officer, under subsection (a) of this section

          (1) to receive and maintain in an orderly manner all reports and statements required by this subchapter to be filed with him;

          (2) to preserve such reports and statements for a period of 10 years from date of receipt, except that reports and statements relating solely to candidates for the House of Representatives shall be preserved for only 5 years from the date of receipt;

          (3) to make the reports and statements filed with him available for public inspection and copying during regular office hours, commencing as soon

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          as practicable but not later than the end of the day during which it was received and to permit copying of any such report or statement by hand or by duplicating machine, requested by any person, at the expense of such person; and

          (4) to compile and maintain current list of all statements or parts of statements pertaining to each candidate.

s 439a. Use of contributed amounts for certain purposes; rules of Commission.

          Amounts received by a candidate as contributions that are in excess of any amount necessary to defray his expenditures, and any other mounts contributed to an individual for the purpose of supporting his activities as a holder of Federal office, may be used by such candidate or individual, as the case may be, to defray any ordinary and necessary expenses incurred by him in connection with his duties as a holder of Federal office, may be contributed by him to any organization described in section 170(c) of Title 26, or may be used for any other lawful purpose. To the extent any such contribution, amount contributed, or expenditure thereof is not otherwise required to be disclosed under the provisions of this subchapter, such contribution, amount contributed, or expenditure shall be fully disclosed in accordance with rules promulgated by the Commission. The Commission is authorized to prescribe such rules as may be necessary to carry out the provisions of this section.

s 441. Penalties for violations.

          (a) Any person who violates any of the provisions of this subchapter shall be fined not more than $1,000 or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both.

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          (b) In case of any conviction under this subchapter, where the punishment inflicted does not include imprisonment, such conviction shall be deemed a misdemeanor conviction only.

                            SUBCHAPTER II. GENERAL PROVISIONS

s 454. Partial invalidity.

          If any provision of this Act, or the application thereof to any person or circumstance, is held invalid, the validity of the remainder of the Act and the application of such provision to other persons and circumstances shall not be affected thereby.

s 456. Additional enforcement authority.

          (a) Findings, after notice and hearing, or failure to file timely reports; disqualification for prescribed period from candidacy in future Federal elections.

          In any case in which the Commission, after notice and opportunity for a hearing on the record in accordance with section 554 of Title 5, makes a finding that a person who, while a candidate for Federal office, failed to file a report required by subchapter I of this chapter, and such finding is made before the expiration of the time within which the failure to file such report may be prosecuted as a violation of such subchapter I, such person shall be disqualified from becoming a candidate in any future election for Federal office for a period of time beginning on the date of such finding and ending one year after the expiration of the term of the Federal office for which such person was a candidate.

          (b) Judicial review of findings.

          Any finding by the Commission under subsection (a) of this section shall be subject to judicial review in accordance with the provisions of chapter 7 of Title 5.

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                      TITLE 18. CRIMES AND CRIMINAL PROCEDURE

                CHAPTER 29 ELECTIONS AND POLITICAL ACTIVITIES

s 591. Definitions.

          Except as otherwise specifically provided, when used in this section and in sections 597, 599, 600, 602, 608, 610, 611, 614, 615, and 617 of this title

          (a) "election" means

          (1) a general, special, primary, or runoff election,

          (2) a convention or caucus of a political party held to nominate a candidate,

          (3) a primary election held for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party, or

          (4) a primary election held for the expression of a preference for the nomination of persons for election to the office of President;

          (b) a "candidate" means an individual who seeks nomination for election, or election, to Federal office, whether or not such individual is elected, and, for purposes of this paragraph, an individual shall be deemed to seek nomination for election, or election, to Federal office, if he has

          (1) taken the action necessary under the law of a State to qualify himself for nomination for election, or election, or

          (2) received contributions or made expenditures, or has given his consent for any other person to receive contributions or make expenditures, with a view to bringing about his nomination for election, or election, to such office;

          (c) "Federal office" means the office of President or Vice President of the United States, or Senator

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or Representative in, or Delegate or Resident Commissioner to, the Congress of the United States;

          (d) "political committee" means any committee, club, association, or other group of persons which receives contributions or makes expenditures during a calendar year in an aggregate amount, exceeding $1,000;

          (e) "contribution"

          (1) means a gift, subscription, loan, advance, or deposit of money or anything of value (except a loan of money by a national or State bank made in accordance with the applicable banking laws and regulations and in the ordinary course of business, which shall be considered a loan by each endorser or guarantor, in that proportion of the unpaid balance thereof that each endorser or guarantor bears to the total number of endorsers or guarantors), made for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office or for the purpose of influencing the results of a primary held for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party or for the expression of a preference for the nomination of persons for election to the office of President of the United States;

          (2) means a contract, promise, or agreement, express or implied, whether or not legally enforceable, to make a contribution for such purposes;

          (3) means funds received by a political committee which are transferred to such committee from another political committee or other source;

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          (4) means the payment, by any person other than a candidate or a political committee, of compensation for the personal services of another person which are rendered to such candidate or political committee without charge for any such purpose; but

          (5) does not include

          (A) the value of services provided without compensation by individuals who volunteer a portion or all of their time on behalf of a candidate or political committee;

          (B) the use of real or personal property and the cost of invitations, food, and beverages, voluntarily provided by an individual to a candidate in rendering voluntary personal services on the individual's residential premises for candidate-related activities;

          (C) the sale of any food or beverage by a vendor for use in a candidate's campaign at a charge less than the normal comparable charge, if such charge for use in a candidate's campaign is at least equal to the cost of such food or beverage to the vendor;

          (D) any unreimbursed payment for travel expenses made by an individual who on his own behalf volunteers his personal services to a candidate; or

          (E) the payment by a State or local committee of a political party of the costs of preparation, display, or mailing or other distribution incurred by such committee with respect to a printed slate card or sam-

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          ple ballot, or other printed listing, of three or more candidates for any public office for which an election is held in the State in which such committee is organized, except that this clause shall not apply in the case of costs incurred by such committee with respect to a display of any such listing made on broadcasting stations, or in newspapers, magazines or other similar types of general public political advertising;

          to the extent that the cumulative value of activities by any person on behalf of any candidate under each of clauses (B), (C), and (D) does not exceed $500 with respect to any election;

          (f) "expenditure"

          (1) means a purchase, payment, distribution, loan, advance, deposit, or gift of money or anything of value (except a loan of money by a national or State bank made in accordance with the applicable banking laws and regulations and in the ordinary course of business), made for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office or for the purpose of influencing the results of a primary held for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party or for the expression of a preference for the nomination of persons for election to the office of President of the United States;

          (2) means a contract, promise, or agreement, express or implied, whether or not legally enforceable, to make any expenditure; and

          (3) means the transfer of funds by a political committee to another political committee; but

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          (4) does not include

          (A) any news story, commentary or editorial distributed through the facilities of any broadcasting station, newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication, unless such facilities are owned or controlled by any political party, political committee, or candidate;

          (B) nonpartisan activity designed to encourage individuals to register to vote or to vote;

          (C) any communication by any membership organization or corporation to its members or stockholders, if such membership organization or corporation is not organized primarily for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office;

          (D) the use of real or personal property and the cost of invitations, food, and beverages, voluntarily provided by an individual to a candidate in rendering voluntary personal services on the individual's residential premises for candidate-related activities;

          (E) any unreimbursed payment for travel expenses made by an individual who on his own behalf volunteers his personal services to a candidate;

          (F) any communication by any person which is not made for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office;

          (G) the payment by a State or local committee of a political party of the costs of

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          preparation, display, or mailing or other distribution incurred by such committee with respect to a printed slate card or sample ballot, or other printed listing, of three or more candidates for any public office for which an election is held in the State in which such committee is organized, except that this clause shall not apply in the case of costs incurred by such committee with respect to a display of any such listing made on broadcasting stations, or in newspapers, magazines or other similar types of general public political advertising;

          (H) any costs incurred by a candidate in connection with the solicitation of contributions by such candidate, except that this clause shall not apply with respect to costs incurred by a candidate in excess of an amount equal to 20 percent of the expenditure limitation applicable to such candidate under section 608(c) of this title; or

          (I) any costs incurred by a political committee (as such term is defined by section 608(b)(2) of this title) with respect to the solicitation of contributions to such political committee or to any general political fund controlled by such political committee, except that this clause shall not apply to exempt costs incurred with respect to the solicitation of contributions to any such political committee made through broadcasting stations, newspapers, magazines, outdoor advertising facilities, and

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          other similar types of general public political advertising;

          to the extent that the cumulative value of activities by any individual on behalf of any candidate under each of clauses (D) or (E) does not exceed $500 with respect to any election;

          (g) "person" and "whoever" mean an individual, partnership, committee, association, corporation, or any other organization or group of persons;

          (h) "State" means each State of the United States, the District of Columbia, the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico, and any territory or possession of the United States;

          (i) "political party" means any association, committee, or organization which nominates a candidate for election to any Federal office whose name appears on the election ballot as the candidate of such association, committee, or organization;

          (j) "State committee" means the organization which, by virtue of the bylaws of a political party, is responsible for the day-to-day operation of such political party at the State level, as determined by the Federal Election Commission;

          (k) "national committee" means the organization which, by virtue of the bylaws of the political party, is responsible for the day-to-day operation of such political party at the national level, as determined by the Federal Election Commission established under section 437c(a) of Title 2; and

          (l) "principal campaign committee" means the principal campaign committee designated by a candidate under section 432(f)(1) of Title 2.

s 608. Limitations on contributions and expenditures

          (a) Personal funds of candidate and family.

          (1) No candidate may make expenditures from

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          his personal funds, or the personal funds of his immediate family, in connection with his campaigns during any calendar year for nomination for election, or for election, to Federal office in excess of, in the aggregate

          (A) $50,000, in the case of a candidate for the office of President or Vice President of the United States;

          (B) $35,000, in the case of a candidate for the office of Senator or for the office of Representative from a State which is entitled to only one Representative; or

          (C) $25,000, in the case of a candidate for the office of Representative, or Delegate or Resident Commissioner, in any other State.

          For purposes of this paragraph, any expenditure made in a year other than the calendar year in which the election is held with respect to which such expenditure was made, is considered to be made during the calendar year in which such election is held.

          (2) For purposes of this subsection, "immediate family" means a candidate's spouse, and any child, parent, grandparent, brother, or sister of the candidate, and the spouses of such persons.

          (3) No candidate or his immediate family may make loans or advances from their personal funds in connection with his campaign for nomination for election, or for election, to Federal office unless such loan or advance is evidenced by a written instrument fully disclosing the terms and conditions of such loan or advance.

          (4) For purposes of this subsection, any such loan or advance shall be included in computing the total amount of such expenditures only to the

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          of the balance of such loan or advance outstanding and unpaid.

          (b) Contributions by persons and committees.

          (1) Except as otherwise provided by paragraphs (2) and (3), no person shall make contributions to any candidate with respect to any election for Federal office which, in the aggregate, exceed $1,000.

          (2) No political committee (other than a principal campaign committee) shall make contributions to any candidate with respect to any election for Federal office which, in the aggregate, exceed $5,000. Contributions by the national committee of a political party serving as the principal campaign committee of a candidate for the office of President of the United States shall not exceed the limitation imposed by the preceding sentence with respect to any other candidate for Federal office. For purposes of this paragraph, the term "political committee" means an organization registered as a political committee under section 433, Title 2, United States Code, for a period of not less than 6 months which has received contributions from more than 50 persons and, except for any State political party organization, has made contributions to 5 or more candidates for Federal office.

          (3) No individual shall make contributions aggregating more than $25,000 in any calendar year. For purposes of this paragraph, any contribution made in a year other than the calendar year in which the election is held with respect to which such contribution was made, is considered to be made during the calendar year in which such election is held.

          (4) For purposes of this subsection

          (A) contributions to a named candidate made

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          to any political committee authorized by such candidate, in writing, to accept contributions on his behalf shall be considered to be contributions made to such candidate; and

          (B) contributions made to or for the benefit of any candidate nominated by a political party for election to the office of Vice President of the United States shall be considered to be contributions made to or for the benefit of the candidate of such party for election to the office of President of the United States.

          (5) The limitations imposed by paragraphs (1) and (2) of this subsection shall apply separately with respect to each election, except that all elections held in any calendar year for the office of President of the United States (except a general election for such office) shall be considered to be one election.

          (6) For purposes of the limitations imposed by this section, all contributions made by a person, either directly or indirectly, on behalf of a particular candidate, including contributions which are in any way earmarked or otherwise directed through an intermediary or conduit to such candidate, shall be treated as contributions from such person to such candidate. The intermediary or conduit shall report the original source and the intended recipient of such contribution to the Commission and to the intended recipient.

          (c) Limitations on expenditures.

          (1) No candidate shall make expenditures in excess of

          (A) $10,000,000, in the case of a candidate for nomination for election to the office of President of the United States, except that

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          the aggregate of expenditures under this subparagraph in any one State shall not exceed twice the expenditure limitation applicable in such State to a candidate for nomination for election to the office of Senator, Delegate, or Resident Commissioner, as the case may be;

          (B) $20,000,000, in the case of a candidate for election to the office of President of the United States;

          (C) in the case of any campaign for nomination for election by a candidate for the office of Senator or by a candidate for the office of Representative from a State which is entitled to only one Representative, the greater of

          (i) 8 cents multiplied by the voting age population of the State (as certified under subsection (g)); or

          (ii) $100,000;

          (D) in the case of any campaign for election by a candidate for the office of Senator or by a candidate for the office of Representative from a State which is entitled to only one Representative, the greater of

          (i) 12 cents multiplied by the voting age population of the State (as certified under subsection (g)); or

          (ii) $150,000;

          (E) $70,000, in the case of any campaign for nomination for election, or for election, by a candidate for the office of Representative in any other State, Delegate from the District of Columbia, or Resident Commissioner; or

          (F) $15,000, in the case of any campaign for nomination for election, or for election, by

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          a candidate for the office of Delegate from Guam or the Virgin Islands.

          (2) For purposes of this subsection

          (A) expenditures made by or on behalf of any candidate nominated by a political party for election to the office of Vice President of the United States shall be considered to be expenditures made by or on behalf of the candidate of such party for election to the office of President of the United States; and

          (B) an expenditure is made on behalf of a candidate, including a vice presidential candidate, if it is made by

          (i) an authorized committee or any other agent of the candidate for the purposes of making any expenditure; or

          (ii) any person authorized or requested by the candidate, an authorized committee of the candidate, or an agent of the candidate, to make the expenditure.

          (3) The limitations imposed by subparagraphs (C), (D), (E), and (F) of paragraph (1) of this subsection shall apply separately with respect to each election.

          (4) The Commission shall prescribe rules under which any expenditure by a candidate for presidential nomination for use in 2 or more States shall be attributed to such candidate's expenditure limitation in each such State, based on the voting age population in such State which can reasonably be expected to be influenced by such expenditure.

          (d) Adjustment of limitations based on price index.

          (1) At the beginning of each calendar year (commencing in 1976), as there become available neces-

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          sary data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics of the Department of Labor, the Secretary of Labor shall certify to the Commission and publish in the Federal Register the per centum difference between the price index for the 12 months preceding the beginning of such calendar year and the price index for the base period. Each limitation established by subsection (c) and subsection (f) shall be increased by such per centum difference. Each amount so increased shall be the amount in effect for such calendar year.

          (2) For purposes of paragraph (1)

          (A) the term "price index" means the average over a calendar year of the Consumer Price Index (all items United States city average) published monthly by the Bureau of Labor Statistics; and

          (B) the term "base period" means the calendar year 1974.

          (e) Expenditure relative to clearly identified candidate.

          (1) No person may make any expenditure (other than an expenditure made by or on behalf of a candidate within the meaning of subsection (c)(2)(B)) relative to a clearly identified candidate during a calendar year which, when added to all other expenditures made by such person during the year advocating the election or defeat of such candidate, exceeds $1,000.

          (2) For purposes of paragraph (1)

          (A) "clearly identified" means

          (i) the candidate's name appears;

          (ii) a photograph or drawing of the candidate appears; or

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          (iii) the identity of the candidate is apparent by unambiguous reference; and

          (B) "expenditure" does not include any payment made or incurred by a corporation or a labor organization which, under the provisions of the last paragraph of section 610, would not constitute an expenditure by such corporation or labor organization.

          (f) Exceptions for national and State committees.

          (1) Notwithstanding any other provision of law with respect to limitations on expenditures or limitations on contributions, the national committee of a political party and a State committee of a political party, including any subordinate committee of a State committee, may make expenditures in connection with the general election campaign of candidates for Federal office, subject to the limitations contained in paragraphs (2) and (3) of this subsection.

          (2) The national committee of a political party may not make any expenditure in connection with the general election campaign of any candidate for President of the United States who is affiliated with such party which exceeds an amount equal to 2 cents multiplied by the voting age population of the United States (as certified under subsection (g)). Any expenditure under this paragraph shall be in addition to any expenditure by a national committee of a political party serving as the principal campaign committee of a candidate for the office of President of the United States.

          (3) The national committee of a political party, or a State committee of a political party, including any subordinate committee of a State committee, may not make any expenditure in connection with the general election campaign of a candidate for

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          Federal office in a State who is affiliated with such party which exceeds

          (A) in the case of a candidate for election to the office of Senator, or of Representative from a State which is entitled to only one Representative, the greater of

          (i) 2 cents multiplied by the voting age population of the State (as certified under subsection (g)); or

          (ii) $20,000; and

          (B) in the case of a candidate for election to the office of Representative, Delegate, or Resident Commissioner in any other State, $10,000.

          (g) Voting age population estimates. During the first week of January 1975, and every subsequent year, the Secretary of Commerce shall certify to the Commission and publish in the Federal Register an estimate of the voting age population of the United States, of each State, and of each congressional district as of the first day of July next preceding the date of certification. The term "voting age population" means resident population, 18 years of age or older.

          (h) Knowing violations. No candidate or political committee shall knowingly accept any contribution or make any expenditure in violation of the provisions of this section. No officer or employee of a political committee shall knowingly accept a contribution made for the benefit or use of a candidate, or knowingly make any expenditure on behalf of a candidate, in violation of any limitation imposed on contributions and expenditures under this section.

          (i) Penalties. Any person who violates any provision of this section shall be fined not more than $25,000 or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both.

(§ 609. Repealed.)

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s 610. Contributions or expenditures by national banks, corporations or labor organizations.

          It is unlawful for any national bank, or any corporation organized by authority of any law of Congress, to make a contribution or expenditure in connection with any election to any political office, or in connection with any primary election or political convention or caucus held to select candidates for any political office, or for any corporation whatever, or any labor organization to make a contribution or expenditure in connection with any election at which presidential and vice presidential electors or a Senator or Representative in, or a Delegate or Resident Commissioner to Congress are to be voted for, or in connection with any primary election or political convention or caucus held to select candidates for any of the foregoing offices, or for any candidate, political committee, or other person to accept or receive any contribution prohibited by this section.

          Every corporation or labor organization which makes any contribution or expenditure in violation of this section shall be fined not more than $25,000; and every officer or director of any corporation, or officer of any labor organization, who consents to any contribution or expenditure by the corporation or labor organization, as the case may be, and any person who accepts or receives any contribution, in violation of this section, shall be fined not more than $1,000 or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both; and if the violation was willful, shall be fined not more than $50,000 or imprisoned not more than 2 years or both.

          For the purposes of this section "labor organization" means any organization of any kind, or any agency or employee representation committee or plan, in which employees participate and which exist for the purpose,

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in whole or in part, of dealing with employers concerning grievances, labor disputes, wages, rates of pay, hours of employment, or conditions of work.

          As used in this section, the phrase "contribution or expenditure" shall include any direct or indirect payment, distribution, loan, advance, deposit, or gift of money, or any services, or anything of value (except a loan of money by a national or State bank made in accordance with the applicable banking laws and regulations and in the ordinary course of business) to any candidate, campaign committee, or political party or organization, in connection with any election to any of the offices referred to in this section; but shall not include communications by a corporation to its stockholders and their families or by a labor organization to its members and their families on any subject; nonpartisan registration and get-out-the-vote campaigns by a corporation aimed at its stockholders and their families, or by a labor organization aimed at its members and their families; the establishment, administration, and solicitation of contributions to a separate segregated fund to be utilized for political purposes by a corporation or labor organization: Provided, That it shall be unlawful for such a fund to make a contribution or expenditure by utilizing money or anything of value secured by physical force, job discrimination, financial reprisals, or the threat of force, job discrimination, or financial reprisal; or by dues, fees, or other monies required as a condition of membership in a labor organization or as a condition of employment, or by monies obtained in any commercial transaction.

s 611. Contributions by Government contractors.

          Whoever

          (a) entering into any contract with the United States or any department or agency thereof either

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          for the rendition of personal services or furnishing any material, supplies, or equipment to the United States or any department or agency thereof or for selling any land or building to the United States or any department or agency thereof, if payment for the performance of such contract or payment for such material, supplies, equipment, land, or building is to be made in whole or in part from funds appropriated by the Congress, at any time between the commencement of negotiations for and the later of

          (1) the completion of performance under, or

          (2) the termination of negotiations for, such contract or furnishing of material, supplies, equipment, land or buildings,

          directly or indirectly makes any contribution of money or other thing of value, or promises expressly or impliedly to make any such contribution, to any political party, committee, or candidate for public office or to any person for any political purpose or use; or

          (b) knowingly solicits any such contribution from any such person for any such purpose during any such period;

          shall be fined not more than $25,000 or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          This section does not prohibit or make unlawful the establishment or administration of, or the solicitation of contributions to, any separate segregated fund by any corporation or labor organization for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office, unless the provisions of section 610 of this title prohibit or make unlawful the establishment or administration of, or the solicitation of contributions to, such fund.

          For purposes of this section, the term "labor organi-

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zation" has the meaning given it by section 610 of this title.

TITLE 26. INTERNAL REVENUE CODE

s 6096. Designation by individuals.

          (a) In general. Every individual (other than a nonresident alien) whose income tax liability for the taxable year is $1 or more may designate that $1 shall be paid over to the Presidential Election Campaign Fund in accordance with the provisions of section 9006(a). In the case of a joint return of husband and wife having an income tax liability of $2 or more, each spouse may designate that $1 shall be paid to the fund.

          (b) Income tax liability. For purposes of subsection (a), the income tax liability for an individual for any taxable year is the amount of the tax imposed by chapter 1 on such individual for such taxable year (as shown on his return), reduced by the sum of the credits (as shown in his return) allowable under sections 33, 37, 38, 40, and 41.

          (c) Manner and time of designation. A designation under subsection (a) may be made with respect to any taxable year

          (1) at the time of filing the return of the tax imposed by chapter 1 for such taxable year, or

          (2) at any other time (after the time of filing the return of the tax imposed by chapter 1 for such taxable year) specified in regulations prescribed by the Secretary or his delegate.

          Such designation shall be made in such manner as the Secretary or his delegate prescribes by regulations except that, if such designation is made at the time of filing the return of the tax imposed by chapter 1 for such taxable year, such designation shall be made either on the

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first page of the return or on the page bearing the taxpayer's signature.

              CHAPTER 95 PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION CAMPAIGN FUND

s 9001. Short title.

          This chapter may be cited as the "Presidential Election Campaign Fund Act."

s 9002. Definitions.

          For purposes of this chapter

          (1) The term "authorized committee" means, with respect to the candidates of a political party for President and Vice President of the United States, any political committee which is authorized in writing by such candidates to incur expenses to further the election of such candidates. Such authorization shall be addressed to the chairman of such political committee, and a copy of such authorization shall be filed by such candidates with the Commission. Any withdrawal of any authorization shall also be in writing and shall be addressed and filed in the same manner as the authorization.

          (2) The term "candidate" means, with respect to any presidential election, an individual who

          (A) has been nominated for election to the office of President of the United States or the office of Vice President of the United States by a major party, or

          (B) has qualified to have his name on the election ballot (or to have the names of electors pledged to him on the election ballot) as the candidate of a political party for election to either such office in 10 or more States.

          For purposes of paragraphs (6) and (7) of this section and purposes of section 9004(a)(2), the term "candidate" means, with respect to any preceding presidential

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election, an individual who received popular votes for the office of President in such election.

          (3) The term "Commission" means the Federal Election Commission established by section 437c(a)(1) of Title 2, United States Code.

          (4) The term "eligible candidates" means the candidates of a political party for President and Vice President of the United States who have met all applicable conditions for eligibility to receive payments under this chapter set forth in section 9003.

          (5) The term "fund" means the Presidential Election Campaign Fund established by section 9006(a).

          (6) The term "major party" means, with respect to any presidential election, a political party whose candidate for the office of President in the preceding presidential election received, as the candidate of such party, 25 percent or more of the total number of popular votes received by all candidates for such office.

          (7) The term "minor party" means, with respect to any presidential election, a political party whose candidate for the office of President in the preceding presidential election received, as the candidate of such party, 5 percent or more but less than 25 percent of the total number of popular votes received by all candidates for such office.

          (8) The term "new party" means, with respect to any presidential election, a political party which is neither a major party nor a minor party.

          (9) The term "political committee" means any committee, association, or organization (whether or not incorporated) which accepts contributions or makes expenditures for the purpose of influencing, or attempting to influence, the nomination or election of one or more individuals to Federal, State, or local elective public office.

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          (10) The term "presidential election" means the election of presidential and vice-presidential electors.

          (11) The term "qualified campaign expense" means an expense

          (A) incurred

          (i) by the candidate of a political party for the office of President to further his election to such office or to further the election of the candidate of such political party for the office of Vice President, or both,

          (ii) by the candidate of a political party for the office of Vice President to further his election to such office or to further the election of the candidate of such political party for the office of President, or both, or

          (iii) by an authorized committee of the candidates of a political party for the offices of President and Vice President to further the election of either or both of such candidates to such offices;

          (B) incurred within the expenditure report period (as defined in paragraph (12)), or incurred before the beginning of such period to the extent such expense is for property, services, or facilities used during such period; and

          (C) neither the incurring nor payment of which constitutes a violation of any law of the United States or of the State in which such expense is incurred or paid.

          An expense shall be considered as incurred by a candidate or an authorized committee if it is incurred by a person authorized by such candidate or such committee, as the case may be, to incur such expense on behalf of such candidate or such committee. If an authorized committee of the candidates of a political party for

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President and Vice President of the United States also incurs expenses to further the election of one or more other individuals to Federal, State, or local elective public office, expenses incurred by such committee which are not specifically to further the election of such other individual or individuals shall be considered as incurred to further the election of such candidates for President and Vice President in such proportion as the Commission prescribes by rules or regulations.

          (12) The term "expenditure report period" with respect to any presidential election means

          (A) in the case of a major party, the period beginning with the first day of September before the election, or, if earlier, with the date on which such major party at its national convention nominated its candidate for election to the office of President of the United States, and ending 30 days after the date of the presidential election; and

          (B) in the case of a party which is not a major party, the same period as the expenditure report period of the major party which has the shortest expenditure report period for such presidential election under subparagraph (A).

s 9003. Condition for eligibility for payments.

          (a) In general. In order to be eligible to receive any payments under section 9006, the candidates of a political party in a presidential election shall, in writing

          (1) agree to obtain and furnish to the Commission such evidence as it may request of the qualified campaign expenses of such candidates;

          (2) agree to keep and furnish to the Commission such records, books, and other information as it may request; and

          (3) agree to an audit and examination by the

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          Commission under section 9007 and to pay any amounts required to be paid under such section.

          (b) Major parties. In order to be eligible to receive any payments under section 9006, the candidates of a major party in a presidential election shall certify to the Commission, under penalty of perjury, that

          (1) such candidates and their authorized committees will not incur qualified campaign expenses in excess of the aggregate payments to which they will be entitled under section 9004; and

          (2) no contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses have been or will be accepted by such candidates or any of their authorized committees except to the extent necessary to make up any deficiency in payments received out of the fund on account of the application of section 9006(d), and no contributions to defray expenses which would be qualified campaign expenses but for subparagraph (C) of section 9002(11) have been or will be accepted by such candidates or any of their authorized committees.

          Such certification shall be made within such time prior to the day of the presidential election as the Commission shall prescribe by rules or regulations.

          (c) Minor and new parties. In order to be eligible to receive any payments under section 9006, the candidates of a minor or new party in a presidential election shall certify to the Commission, under penalty of perjury, that

          (1) such candidates and their authorized committees will not incur qualified campaign expenses in excess of the aggregate payments to which the eligible candidates of a major party are entitled under section 9004; and

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          (2) such candidates and their authorized committees will accept and expend or retain contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses only to the extent that the qualified campaign expenses incurred by such candidates and their authorized committees certified to under paragraph (1) exceed the aggregate payments received by such candidates out of the fund pursuant to section 9006.

          Such certification shall be made within such time prior to the day of the presidential election as the Commission shall prescribe by rules or regulations.

s 9004. Entitlement of eligible candidates to payments.

          (a) In general. Subject to the provisions of this chapter

          (1) The eligible candidates of each major party in a presidential election shall be entitled to equal payments under section 9006 in an amount which, in the aggregate, shall not exceed the expenditure limitations applicable to such candidates under section 608(c)(1)(B) of Title 18, United States Code.

          (2)(A) The eligible candidates of a minor party in a presidential election shall be entitled to payments under section 9006 equal in the aggregate to an amount which bears the same ratio to the amount allowed under paragraph (1) for a major party as the number of popular votes received by the candidate for President of the minor party, as such candidate, in the preceding presidential election bears to the average number of popular votes received by the candidates for President of the major parties in the preceding presidential election.

          (B) If the candidate of one or more political parties (not including a major party) for the office of President was a candidate for such office in the preceding presidential election and received 5 per-

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          cent or more but less than 25 percent of the total number of popular votes received by all candidates for such office, such candidate and his running mate for the office of Vice President, upon compliance with the provisions of section 9003(a) and (c), shall be treated as eligible candidates entitled to payments under section 9006 in an amount computed as provided in subparagraph (A) by taking into account all the popular votes received by such candidate for the office of President in the preceding presidential election. If eligible candidates of a minor party are entitled to payments under this subparagraph, such entitlement shall be reduced by the amount of the entitlement allowed under subparagraph (A).

          (3) The eligible candidates of a minor party or a new party in a presidential election whose candidate for President in such election receives, as such candidate, 5 percent or more of the total number of popular votes cast for the office of President in such election shall be entitled to payments under section 9006 equal in the aggregate to an amount which bears the same ratio to the amount allowed under paragraph (1) for a major party as the number of popular votes received by such candidate in such election bears to the average number of popular votes received in such election by the candidates for President of the major parties. In the case of eligible candidates entitled to payments under paragraph (2), the amount allowable under this paragraph shall be limited to the amount, if any, by which the entitlement under the preceding sentence exceeds the amount of the entitlement under paragraph (2).

          (b) Limitations. The aggregate payments to which the eligible candidates of a political party shall be en-

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titled under subsections (a)(2) and (3) with respect to a presidential election shall not exceed an amount equal to the lower of

          (1) the amount of qualified campaign expenses incurred by such eligible candidates and their authorized committees, reduced by the amount of contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses received and expended or retained by such eligible candidates and such committees; or

          (2) the aggregate payments to which the eligible candidates of a major party are entitled under subsection (a)(1), reduced by the amount of contributions described in paragraph (1) of this subsection.

          (c) Restrictions. The eligible candidates of a political party shall be entitled to payments under subsection (a) only

          (1) to defray qualified campaign expenses incurred by such eligible candidates or their authorized committees; or

          (2) to repay loans the proceeds of which were used to defray such qualified campaign expenses, or otherwise to restore funds (other than contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses received and expended by such candidates or such committees) used to defray such qualified campaign expenses.

s 9005. Certification by Commission.

          (a) Initial certifications. Not later than 10 days after the candidates of a political party for President and Vice President of the United States have met all applicable conditions for eligibility to receive payments under this chapter set forth in section 9003, the Commission shall certify to the Secretary for payment to such eligible candidates under section 9006 payment in full of amounts to which such candidates are entitled under section 9004.

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          (b) Finality of certifications and determinations. Initial certifications by the Commission under subsection (a), and all determinations made by it under this chapter shall be final and conclusive, except to the extent that they are subject to examination and audit by the Commission under section 9007 and judicial review under section 9011.

s 9006. Payments to eligible candidates.

          (a) Establishment of campaign fund. There is hereby established on the books of the Treasury of the United States a special fund to be known as the "Presidential Election Campaign Fund." The Secretary shall, from time to time, transfer to the fund an amount not in excess of the sum of the amounts designated (subsequent to the previous Presidential election) to the fund by individuals under section 6096. There is appropriated to the fund for each fiscal year, out of amounts in the general fund of the Treasury not otherwise appropriated, an amount equal to the amounts so designated during each fiscal year, which shall remain available to the fund without fiscal year limitation.

          (b) Transfer to the general fund. If, after a Presidential election and after all eligible candidates have been paid the amount which they are entitled to receive under this chapter, there are moneys remaining in the fund, the Secretary shall transfer the moneys so remaining to the general fund of the Treasury.

          (c) Payments from the fund. Upon receipt of a certification from the Commission under section 9005 for payment to the eligible candidates of a political party, the Secretary shall pay to such candidates out of the fund the amount certified by the Commission. Amounts paid to any such candidates shall be under the control of such candidates.

          (d) Insufficient amounts in fund. If at the time of a-

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ertification by the Commission under section 9005 for payment to the eligible candidates of a political party, the Secretary or his delegate determines that the moneys in the fund are not, or may not be, sufficient to satisfy the full entitlements of the eligible candidates of all political parties, he shall withhold from such payment such amount as he determines to be necessary to assure that the eligible candidates of each political party will receive their pro rata share of their full entitlement. Amounts withheld by reason of the preceding sentence shall be paid when the Secretary or his delegate determines that there are sufficient moneys in the fund to pay such amounts, or portions thereof, to all eligible candidates from whom amounts have been withheld, but, if there are not sufficient moneys in the fund to satisfy the full entitlement of the eligible candidates of all political parties, the amounts so withheld shall be paid in such manner that the eligible candidates of each political party receive their pro rata share of their full entitlement.

s 9007. Examinations and audits; repayments.

          (a) Examinations and audits. After each presidential election, the Commission shall conduct a thorough examination and audit of the qualified campaign expenses of the candidates of each political party for President and Vice President.

          (b) Repayments.

          (1) If the Commission determines that any portion of the payments made to the eligible candidates of a political party under section 9006 was in excess of the aggregate payments to which candidates were entitled under section 9004, it shall so notify such candidates, and such candidates shall pay to the Secretary an amount equal to such portion.

          (2) If the Commission determines that the eligible candidates of a political party and their authorized

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          committees incurred qualified campaign expenses in excess of the aggregate payments to which the eligible candidates of a major party were entitled under section 9004, it shall notify such candidates of the amount of such excess and such candidates shall pay to the Secretary an amount equal to such amount.

          (3) If the Commission determines that the eligible candidates of a major party or any authorized committee of such candidates accepted contributions (other than contributions to make up deficiencies in payments out of the fund on account of the application of section 9006(d)) to defray qualified campaign expenses (other than qualified campaign expenses with respect to which payment is required under paragraph (2)), it shall notify such candidates of the amount of the contributions so accepted, and such candidates shall pay to the Secretary an amount equal to such amount.

          (4) If the Commission determines that any amount of any payment made to the eligible candidates of a political party under section 9006 was used for any purpose other than

          (A) to defray the qualified campaign expenses with respect to which such payment was made; or

          (B) to repay loans the proceeds of which were used, or otherwise to restore funds (other than contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses which were received and expended) which were used to defray such qualified campaign expenses,

          it shall notify such candidates of the amount so used, and such candidates shall pay to the Secretary an amount equal to such amount.

          (5) No payment shall be required from the eligi-

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          ble candidates of a political party under this subsection to the extent that such payment, when added to other payments required from such candidates under this subsection, exceeds the amount of payments received by such candidates under section 9006.

          (c) Notification. No notification shall be made by the Commission under subsection (b) with respect to a presidential election more than 3 years after the day of such election.

          (d) Deposit of repayments. All payments received by the Secretary under subsection (b) shall be deposited by him in the general fund of the Treasury.

s 9008. Payments for presidential nominating conventions.

          (a) Establishment of accounts. The Secretary shall maintain in the fund, in addition to any account which he maintains under section 9006(a), a separate account for the national committee of each major party and minor party. The Secretary shall deposit in each such account an amount equal to the amount which each such committee may receive under subsection (b). Such deposits shall be drawn from amounts designated by individuals under section 6096 and shall be made before any transfer is made to any account for any eligible candidate under section 9006(a).

          (b) Entitlement to payments from the fund.

          (1) Major parties. Subject to the provisions of this section, the national committee of a major party shall be entitled to payments under paragraph (3), with respect to any presidential nominating convention, in amounts which, in the aggregate, shall not exceed $2 million.

          (2) Minor parties. Subject to the provisions of this section, the national committee of a minor party

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          shall be entitled to payments under paragraph (3), with respect to any presidential nominating convention, in amounts which, in the aggregate, shall not exceed an amount which bears the same ratio to the amount the national committee of a major party is entitled to receive under paragraph (1) as the number of popular votes received by the candidate for President of the minor party, as such candidate, in the preceding presidential election bears to the average number of popular votes received by the candidates for President of the United States of the major parties in the preceding presidential election.

          (3) Payments. Upon receipt of certification from the Commission under subsection (g), the Secretary shall make payments from the appropriate account maintained under subsection (a) to the national committee of a major party or minor party which elects to receive its entitlement under this subsection. Such payments shall be available for use by such committee in accordance with the provisions of subsection (c).

          (4) Limitation. Payments to the national committee of a major party or minor party under this subsection from the account designated for such committee shall be limited to the amounts in such account at the time of payment.

          (5) Adjustment of entitlements. The entitlements established by this subsection shall be adjusted in the same manner as expenditure limitations established by section 608(c) and section 608(f) of Title 18, United States Code, are adjusted pursuant to the provisions of section 608(d) of such title.

          (c) Use of funds. No part of any payment made under subsection (b) shall be used to defray the expenses

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of any candidate or delegate who is participating in any presidential nominating convention. Such payments shall be used only

          (1) to defray expenses incurred with respect to a presidential nominating convention (including the payment of deposits) by or on behalf of the national committee receiving such payments; or

          (2) to repay loans the proceeds of which were used to defray such expenses, or otherwise to restore funds (other than contributions to defray such expenses received by such committee) used to defray such expenses.

          (d) Limitation of expenditures.

          (1) Major parties. Except as provided by paragraph (3), the national committee of a major party may not make expenditures with respect to a presidential nominating convention which, in the aggregate, exceed the amount of payments to which such committee is entitled under subsection (b)(1).

          (2) Minor parties. Except as provided by paragraph (3), the national committee of a minor party may not make expenditures with respect to a presidential nominating convention which, in the aggregate, exceed the amount of the entitlement of the national committee of a major party under subsection (b)(1).

          (3) Exception. The Commission may authorize the national committee of a major party or minor party to make expenditures which, in the aggregate, exceed the limitation established by paragraph (1) or paragraph (2) of this subsection. Such authorization shall be based upon a determination by the Commission that, due to extraordinary and unforeseen circumstances, such expenditures are necessary

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          to assure the effective operation of the presidential nominating convention by such committee.

          (e) Availability of payments. The national committee of a major party or minor party may receive payments under subsection (b)(3) beginning on July 1 of the calendar year immediately preceding the calendar year in which a presidential nominating convention of the political party involved is held.

          (f) Transfer to the fund. If, after the close of a presidential nominating convention and after the national committee of the political party involved has been paid the amount which it is entitled to receive under this section, there are moneys remaining in the account of such national committee, the Secretary shall transfer the moneys so remaining to the fund.

          (g) Certification by Commission. Any major party or minor party may file a statement with the Commission in such form and manner and at such times as it may require, designating the national committee of such party. Such statement shall include the information required by section 433(b) of Title 2, United States Code, together with such additional information as the Commission may require. Upon receipt of a statement filed under the preceding sentences, the Commission promptly shall verify such statement according to such procedures and criteria as it may establish and shall certify to the Secretary for payment in full to any such committee of amounts to which such committee may be entitled under subsection (b). Such certifications shall be subject to an examination and audit which the Commission shall conduct no later than December 31 of the calendar year in which the presidential nominating convention involved is held.

          (h) Repayments. The Commission shall have the same authority to require payments from the national

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committee of a major party or a minor party as it has with respect to repayments from any eligible candidate under section 9007(b). The provisions of section 9007(c) and section 9007(d) shall apply with respect to any repayment required by the Commission under this subsection.

s 9009. Reports to Congress; regulations.

          (a) Reports. The Commission shall, as soon as practicable after each presidential election, submit a full report to the Senate and House of Representatives setting forth

          (1) the qualified campaign expenses (shown in such detail as the Commission determines necessary) incurred by the candidates of each political party and their authorized committees;

          (2) the amounts certified by it under section 9005 for payment to eligible candidates of each political party;

          (3) the amount of payments, if any, required from such candidates under section 9007, and the reasons for each payment required;

          (4) the expenses incurred by the national committee of a major party or minor party with respect to a presidential nominating convention;

          (5) the amounts certified by it under section 9008(g) for payment to each such committee; and

          (6) the amount of payments, if any, required from such committees under section 9008(h) and the reasons for each such payment.

          Each report submitted pursuant to this section shall be printed as a Senate document.

          (b) Regulations, etc. The Commission is authorized to prescribe such rules and regulations in accordance with the provisions of subsection (c), to conduct such

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examinations and audits (in addition to the examination and audits required by section 9007(a)), to conduct such investigations, and to require the keeping and submission of such books, records, and information, as it deems necessary to carry out the functions and duties imposed on it by this chapter.

          (c) Review of regulations.

          (1) The Commission, before prescribing any rule or regulation under subsection (b), shall transmit a statement with respect to such rule or regulation to the Senate and to the House of Representatives, in accordance with the provisions of this subsection. Such statement shall set forth the proposed rule or regulation and shall contain a detailed explanation and justification of such rule or regulation.

          (2) If either such House does not, through appropriate action, disapprove the proposed rule or regulation set forth in such statement no later than 30 legislative days after receipt of such statement, then the Commission may prescribe such rule or regulation. The Commission may not prescribe any rule or regulation which is disapproved by either such House under this paragraph.

          (3) For purposes of this subsection, the term "legislative days" does not include any calendar day on which both Houses of the Congress are not in session.

s 9010. Participation by commission in judicial proceedings.

          (a) Appearance by counsel. The Commission is authorized to appear in and defend against any action filed under section 9011, either by attorneys employed in its office or by counsel whom it may appoint without regard to the provisions of Title 5, United States Code, governing appointments in the competitive service, and

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whose compensation it may fix without regard to the provisions of chapter 51 and subchapter III of chapter 53 of such title.

          (b) Recovery of certain payments. The Commission is authorized through attorneys and counsel described in subsection (a) to appear in the district courts of the United States to seek recovery of any amounts determined to be payable to the Secretary as a result of examination and audit made pursuant to section 9007.

          (c) Declaratory and injunctive relief. The Commission is authorized through attorneys and counsel described in subsection (a) to petition the courts of the United States for declaratory or injunctive relief concerning any civil matter covered by the provisions of this subtitle or section 6096. Upon application of the Commission an action brought pursuant to this subsection shall be heard and determined by a court of three judges in accordance with the provisions of section 2284 of Title 28, United States Code, and any appeal shall lie to the Supreme Court. It shall be the duty of the judges designated to hear the case to assign the case for hearing at the earliest practicable date, to participate in the hearing and determination thereof, and to cause the case to be in every way expedited.

          (d) Appeal. The Commission is authorized on behalf of the United States to appeal from, and to petition the Supreme Court for certiorari to review, judgments or decrees entered with respect to actions in which it appears pursuant to the authority provided in this section.

s 9011. Judicial review.

          (a) Review of certification, determination, or other action by the Commission. Any certification, determination, or other action by the Commission made or taken pursuant to the provisions of this chapter shall be subject to review by the United States Court of Appeals for

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the District of Columbia upon petition filed in such Court by any interested person. Any petition filed pursuant to this section shall be filed within 30 days after the certification, determination, or other action by the Commission for which review is sought.

          (b) Suits to implement chapter.

          (1) The Commission, the national committee of any political party, and individuals eligible to vote for President are authorized to institute such actions, including actions for declaratory judgment or injunctive relief, as may be appropriate to implement or contrue 1 any provisions of this chapter.

          (2) The district courts of the United States shall have jurisdiction of proceedings instituted pursuant to this subsection and shall exercise the same without regard to whether a person asserting rights under provisions of this subsection shall have exhausted any administrative or other remedies that may be provided at law. Such proceedings shall be heard and determined by a court of three judges in accordance with the provisions of section 2284 of Title 28, United States Code, and any appeal shall lie to the Supreme Court. It shall be the duty of the judges designated to hear the case to assign the case for hearing at the earliest practicable date, to participate in the hearing and determination thereof, and to cause the case to be in every way expedited.

s 9012. Criminal penalties.

          (a) Excess expenses.

          (1) It shall be unlawful for an eligible candidate of a political party for President and Vice President in a presidential election or any of his authorized committees knowingly and willfully to incur quali-

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          fied campaign expenses in excess of the aggregate payments to which the eligible candidates of a major party are entitled under section 9004 with respect to such election. It shall be unlawful for the national committee of a major party or minor party knowingly and willfully to incur expenses with respect to a presidential nominating convention in excess of the expenditure limitation applicable with respect to such committee under section 9008(d), unless the incurring of such expenses is authorized by the Commission under section 9008(d)(3).

          (2) Any person who violates paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than 1 year or both. In the case of a violation by an authorized committee, any officer or member of such committee who knowingly and willfully consents to such violation shall be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both.

          (b) Contributions.

          (1) It shall be unlawful for an eligible candidate of a major party in a presidential election or any of his authorized committees knowingly and willfully to accept any contribution to defray qualified campaign expenses, except to the extent necessary to make up any deficiency in payments received out of the fund on account of the application of section 9006(d), or to defray expenses which would be qualified campaign expenses but for subparagraph (C) of section 9002(11).

          (2) It shall be unlawful for an eligible candidate of a political party (other than a major party) in a presidential election or any of his authorized committees knowingly and willfully to accept and expend or retain contributions to defray qualified

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          campaign expenses in an amount which exceeds the qualified campaign expenses incurred with respect to such election by such eligible candidate and his authorized committees.

          (3) Any person who violates paragraph (1) or (2) shall be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both. In the case of a violation by an authorized committee, any officer or member of such committee who knowingly and willfully consents to such violation shall be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both.

          (c) Unlawful use of payments.

          (1) It shall be unlawful for any person who receives any payment under section 9006, or to whom any portion of any payment received under such section is transferred, knowingly and willfully to use, or authorize the use of, such payment or such portion for any purpose other than

          (A) to defray the qualified campaign expenses with respect to which such payment was made; or

          (B) to repay loans the proceeds of which were used, or otherwise to restore funds (other than contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses which were received and expended) which were used, to defray such qualified campaign expenses.

          (2) It shall be unlawful for the national committee of a major party or minor party which receives any payment under section 9008(b)(3) to use, or authorize the use of, such payment for any purpose other than a purpose authorized by section 9008(c).

          (3) Any person who violates paragraph (1) shall

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          be fined not more than $10,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          (d) False statements, etc.

          (1) It shall be unlawful for any person knowingly and willfully

          (A) to furnish any false, fictitious, or fraudulent evidence, books, or information to the Commission under this subtitle, or to include in any evidence, books, or information so furnished any misrepresentation of a material fact, or to falsify or conceal any evidence, books, or information relevant to a certification by the Commission or an examination and audit by the Commission under this chapter; or

          (B) to fail to furnish to the Commission any records, books, or information requested by it for purposes of this chapter.

          (2) Any person who violates paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $10,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          (e) Kickbacks and illegal payments.

          (1) It shall be unlawful for any person knowingly and willfully to give or accept any kickback or any illegal payment in connection with any qualified campaign expense of eligible candidates or their authorized committees. It shall be unlawful for the national committee of a major party or minor party knowingly and willfully to give or accept any kickback or any illegal payment in connection with any expense incurred by such committee with respect to a presidential nominating convention.

          (2) Any person who violates paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

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          (3) In addition to the penalty provided by paragraph (2), any person who accepts any kickback or illegal payment in connection with any qualified campaign expense of eligible candidates or their authorized committees, or in connection with any expense incurred by the national committee of a major party or minor party with respect to a presidential nominating convention, shall pay to the Secretary, for deposit in the general fund of the Treasury, an amount equal to 125 percent of the kickback or payment received.

          (f) Unauthorized expenditures and contributions.

          (1) Except as provided in paragraph (2), it shall be unlawful for any political committee which is not an authorized committee with respect to the eligible candidates of a political party for President and Vice President in a presidential election knowingly and willfully to incur expenditures to further the election of such candidates, which would constitute qualified campaign expenses if incurred by an authorized committee of such candidates, in an aggregate amount exceeding $1,000.

          (2) This subsection shall not apply to

          (A) expenditures by a broadcaster regulated by the Federal Communications Commission, or by a periodical publication, in reporting the news or in taking editorial positions; or

          (B) expenditures by any organization described in section 501(c) which is exempt from tax under section 501(a) in communicating to its members the views of that organization.

          (3) Any political committee which violates paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $5,000, and any officer or member of such committee who knowingly and willfully consents to such violation and

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          any other individual who knowingly and willfully violates paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both.

          (g) Unauthorized disclosure of information.

          (1) It shall be unlawful for any individual to disclose any information obtained under the provisions of this chapter except as may be required by law.

          (2) Any person who violates paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned not more than 1 year, or both.

    CHAPTER 96 PRESIDENTIAL PRIMARY MATCHING PAYMENT ACCOUNT

s 9031. Short title.

          This chapter may be cited as the "Presidential Primary Matching Payment Account Act."

s 9032. Definitions.

          For the purposes of this chapter

          (1) The term "authorized committee" means, with respect to the candidates of a political party for President and Vice President of the United States, any political committee which is authorized in writing by such candidates to incur expenses to further the election of such candidates. Such authorization shall be addressed to the chairman of such political committee, and a copy of such authorization shall be filed by such candidates with the Commission. Any withdrawal of any authorization shall also be in writing and shall be addressed and filed in the same manner as the authorization.

          (2) The term "candidate" means an individual who seeks nomination for election to be President of the United States. For purposes of this

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          an individual shall be considered to seek nomination for election if he

          (A) takes the action necessary under the law of a State to qualify himself for nomination for election;

          (B) receives contributions or incurs qualified campaign expenses; or

          (C) gives his consent for any other person to receive contributions or to incur qualified campaign expenses on his behalf.

          (3) The term "Commission" means the Federal Election Commission established by section 437c(a)(1) of Title 2, United States Code.

          (4) Except as provided by section 9034(a), the term "contribution"

          (A) means a gift, subscription, loan, advance, or deposit of money, or anything of value, the payment of which was made on or after the beginning of the calendar year immediately preceding the calendar year of the presidential election with respect to which such gift, subscription, loan, advance, or deposit of money, or anything of value, is made for the purpose of influencing the result of a primary election;

          (B) means a contract, promise, or agreement, whether or not legally enforceable, to make a contribution for any such purpose;

          (C) means funds received by a political committee which are transferred to that committee from another committee; and

          (D) means the payment by any person other than a candidate, or his authorized committee, of compensation for the personal services of another person which are rendered to the candidate or committee without charge; but

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          (E) does not include

          (i) except as provided in subparagraph (D), the value of personal services rendered to or for the benefit of a candidate by an individual who receives no compensation for rendering such service to or for the benefit of the candidate; or

          (ii) payments under section 9037.

          (5) The term "matching payment account" means the Presidential Primary Matching Payment Account established under section 9037(a).

          (6) The term "matching payment period" means the period beginning with the beginning of the calendar year in which a general election for the office of President of the United States will be held and ending on the date on which the national convention of the party whose nomination a candidate seeks nominates its candidate for the office of President of the United States, or, in the case of a party which does not make such nomination by national convention, ending on the earlier of

          (A) the date such party nominates its candidate for the office of President of the United States; or

          (B) the last day of the last national convention held by a major party during such calendar year.

          (7) The term "primary election" means an election, including a runoff election or a nominating convention or caucus held by a political party, for the selection of delegates to a national nominating convention of a political party, or for the expression of a preference for the nomination of persons for election to the office of President of the United States.

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          (8) The term "political committee" means any individual, committee, association, or organization (whether or not incorporated) which accepts contributions or incurs qualified campaign expenses for the purpose of influencing, or attempting to influence, the nomination of any person for election to the office of President of the United States.

          (9) The term "qualified campaign expense" means a purchase, payment, distribution, loan, advance, deposit, or gift of money or of anything of value

          (A) incurred by a candidate, or by his authorized committee, in connection with his campaign for nomination for election; and

          (B) neither the incurring nor payment of which constitutes a violation of any law of the United States or of the State in which the expense is incurred or paid.

          For purposes of this paragraph, an expense is incurred by a candidate or by an authorized committee if it is incurred by a person specifically authorized in writing by the candidate or committee, as the case may be, to incur such expense on behalf of the candidate or the committee.

          (10) The term "State" means each State of the United States and the District of Columbia.

s 9033. Eligibility for payments.

          (a) Conditions. To be eligible to receive payments under section 9037, a candidate shall, in writing

          (1) agree to obtain and furnish to the Commission any evidence it may request of qualified campaign expenses;

          (2) agree to keep and furnish to the Commission any records, books, and other information it may request; and

          (3) agree to an audit and examination by the

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          Commission under section 9038 and to pay any amounts required to be paid under such section.

          (b) Expense limitation; declaration of intent; minimum contributions. To be eligible to receive payments under section 9037, a candidate shall certify to the Commission that

          (1) the candidate and his authorized committees will not incur qualified campaign expenses in excess of the limitation on such expenses under section 9035;

          (2) the candidate is seeking nomination by a political party for election to the office of President of the United States;

          (3) the candidate has received matching contributions which in the aggregate, exceed $5,000 in contributions from residents of each of at least 20 States; and

          (4) the aggregate of contributions certified with respect to any person under paragraph (3) does not exceed $250.

s 9034. Entitlement of eligible candidates to payments.

          (a) In general. Every candidate who is eligible to receive payments under section 9033 is entitled to payments under section 9037 in an amount equal to the amount of each contribution received by such candidate on or after the beginning of the calendar year immediately preceding the calendar year of the presidential election with respect to which such candidate is seeking nomination, or by his authorized committees, disregarding any amount of contributions from any person to the extent that the total of the amounts contributed by such person on or after the beginning of such preceding calendar year exceeds $250. For purposes of this subsection and section 9033(b), the term "contribution" means a gift of money made by a written instrument which identi-

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fies the person making the contribution by full name and mailing address, but does not include a subscription, loan, advance, or deposit of money, or anything of value or anything described in subparagraph (B), (C), or (D) of section 9032(4).

          (b) Limitations. The total amount of payments to which a candidate is entitled under subsection (a) shall not exceed 50 percent of the expenditure limitation applicable under section 608(c)(1)(A) of Title 18, United States Code.

s 9035. Qualified campaign expense limitation.

          No candidate shall knowingly incur qualified campaign expenses in excess of the expenditure limitation applicable under section 608(c)(1)(A) of Title 18, United States Code.

s 9036. Certification by Commission.

          (a) Initial certifications. Not later than 10 days after a candidate establishes his eligibility under section 9033 to receive payments under section 9037, the Commission shall certify to the Secretary for payment to such candidate under section 9037 payment in full of amounts to which such candidate is entitled under section 9034. The Commission shall make such additional certifications as may be necessary to permit candidates to receive payments for contributions under section 9037.

          (b) Finality of determinations. Initial certifications by the Commission under subsection (a) and all determinations made by it under this chapter, are final and conclusive, except to the extent that they are subject to examination and audit by the Commission under section 9038 and judicial review under section 9041.

s 9037. Payments to eligible candidates.

          (a) Establishment of account. The Secretary shall maintain in the Presidential Election Campaign Fund

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established by section 9006(a), in addition to any account which he maintains under such section, a separate account to be known as the Presidential Primary Matching Payment Account. The Secretary shall deposit into the matching payment account, for use by the candidate of any political party who is eligible to receive payments under section 9033, the amount available after the Secretary determines that amounts for payments under section 9006(c) and for payments under section 9008(b)(3) are available for such payments.

          (b) Payments from the matching payment account. Upon receipt of a certification from the Commission under section 9036, but not before the beginning of the matching payment period, the Secretary or his delegate shall promptly transfer the amount certified by the Commission from the matching payment account to the candidate. In making such transfers to candidates of the same political party, the Secretary or his delegate shall seek to achieve an equitable distribution of funds available under subsection (a), and the Secretary or his delegate shall take into account, in seeking to achieve an equitable distribution, the sequence in which such certifications are received.

s 9038. Examinations and audits; repayments.

          (a) Examinations and audits. After each matching payment period, the Commission shall conduct a thorough examination and audit of the qualified campaign expenses of every candidate and his authorized committees who received payments under section 9037.

          (b) Repayments.

          (1) If the Commission determines that any portion of the payments made to a candidate from the matching payment account was in excess of the aggregate amount of payments to which such candidate was entitled under section 9034, it shall

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          notify the candidate, and the candidate shall pay to the Secretary or his delegate an amount equal to the amount of excess payments.

          (2) If the Commission determines that any amount of any payment made to a candidate from the matching payment account was used for any purpose other than

          (A) to defray the qualified campaign expenses with respect to which such payment was made; or

          (B) to repay loans the proceeds of which were used or otherwise to restore funds (other than contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses which were received and expended) which were used, to defray qualified campaign expenses;

          it shall notify such candidate of the amount so used, and the candidate shall pay to the Secretary or his delegate an amount equal to such amount.

          (3) Amounts received by a candidate from the matching payment account may be retained for the liquidation of all obligations to pay qualified campaign expenses incurred for a period not exceeding 6 months after the end of the matching payment period. After all obligations have been liquidated, that portion of any unexpended balance remaining in the candidate's accounts which bears the same ratio to the total unexpended balance as the total amount received from the matching payment account bears to the total of all deposits made into the candidate's accounts shall be promptly repaid to the matching payment account.

          (c) Notification. No notification shall be made by the Commission under subsection (b) with respect to a matching payment period more than 3 years after the end of such period.

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          (d) Deposit of repayments. All payments received by the Secretary or his delegate under subsection (b) shall be deposited by him in the matching payment account.

s 9039. Reports to Congress; regulations.

          (a) Reports. The Commission shall, as soon as practicable after each matching payment period, submit a full report to the Senate and House of Representatives setting forth

          (1) the qualified campaign expenses (shown in such detail as the Commission determines necessary) incurred by the candidates of each political party and their authorized committees;

          (2) the amounts certified by it under section 9036 for payment to each eligible candidate; and

          (3) the amount of payments, if any, required from candidates under section 9038, and the reasons for each payment required.

          Each report submitted pursuant to this section shall be printed as a Senate document.

          (b) Regulations, etc. The Commission is authorized to prescribe rules and regulations in accordance with the provisions of subsection (c), to conduct examinations and audits (in addition to the examinations and audits required by section 9038(a)), to conduct investigations, and to require the keeping and submission of any books, records, and information, which it determines to be necessary to carry out its responsibilities under this chapter.

          (c) Review of regulations.

          (1) The Commission, before prescribing any rule or regulation under subsection (b), shall transmit a statement with respect to such rule or regulation to the Senate and to the House of Representatives,

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          in accordance with the provisions of this subsection. Such statement shall set forth the proposed rule or regulation and shall contain a detailed explanation and justification of such rule or regulation.

          (2) If either such House does not, through appropriate action, disapprove the proposed rule or regulation set forth in such statement no later than 30 legislative days after receipt of such statement, then the Commission may not prescribe such rule or regulation. The Commission may prescribe any rule or regulation which is disapproved by either such House under this paragraph.

          (3) For purposes of this subsection, the term "legislative days" does not include any calendar day on which both Houses of the Congress are not in session.

s 9040. Participation by Commission in judicial proceedings.

          (a) Appearance by counsel. The Commission is authorized to appear in and defend against any action instituted under this section, either by attorneys employed in its office or by counsel whom it may appoint without regard to the provisions of Title 5, United States Code, governing appointments in the competitive service, and whose compensation it may fix without regard to the provisions of chapter 51 and subchapter III of chapter 53 of such title.

          (b) Recovery of certain payments. The Commission is authorized, through attorneys and counsel described in subsection (a), to institute actions in the district courts of the United States to seek recovery of any amounts determined to be payable to the Secretary or his delegate as a result of an examination and audit made pursuant to section 9038.

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          (c) Injunctive relief. The Commission is authorized, through attorneys and counsel described in subsection (a) to petition the courts of the United States for such injunctive relief as is appropriate to implement any provision of this chapter.

          (d) Appeal. The Commission is authorized on behalf of the United States to appeal from, and to petition the Supreme Court for certiorari to review, judgments or decrees entered with respect to actions in which it appears pursuant to the authority provided in this section.

s 9041. Judicial review.

          (a) Review of agency action by the Commission. Any agency action by the Commission made under the provisions of this chapter shall be subject to review by the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit upon petition filed in such court within 30 days after the agency action by the Commission for which review is sought.

          (b) Review procedures. The provisions of chapter 7 of Title 5, United States Code, apply to judicial review of any agency action, as defined in section 551(13) of Title 5, United States Code, by the Commission.

s 9042. Criminal penalties.

          (a) Excess campaign expenses. Any person who violates the provisions of section 9035 shall be fined not more than $25,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both. Any officer or member of any political committee who knowingly consents to any expenditure in violation of the provisions of section 9035 shall be fined not more than $25,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          (b) Unlawful use of payments.

          (1) It is unlawful for any person who receives any payment under section 9037, or to whom any portion

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          of any such payment is transferred, knowingly and willfully to use, or authorize the use of, such payment or such portion for any purpose other than

          (A) to defray qualified campaign expenses; or

          (B) to repay loans the proceeds of which were used, or otherwise to restore funds (other than contributions to defray qualified campaign expenses which were received and expended) which were used, to defray qualified campaign expenses.

          (2) Any person who violates the provisions of paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $10,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          (c) False statements, etc.

          (1) It is unlawful for any person knowingly and willfully

          (A) to furnish any false, fictitious, or fraudulent evidence, books, or information to the Commission under this chapter, or to include in any evidence, books, or information so furnished any misrepresentation of a material fact, or to falsify or conceal any evidence, books, or information relevant to a certification by the Commission or an examination and audit by the Commission under this chapter; or

          (B) to fail to furnish to the Commission any records, books, or information requested by it for purposes of this chapter.

          (2) Any person who violates the provisions of paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $10,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          (d) Kickbacks and illegal payments.

          (1) It is unlawful for any person knowingly and willfully to give or accept any kickback or any illegal

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          payment in connection with any qualified campaign expense of a candidate, or his authorized committees, who receives payments under section 9037.

          (2) Any person who violates the provision of paragraph (1) shall be fined not more than $10,000, or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

          (3) In addition to the penalty provided by paragraph (2), any person who accepts any kickback or illegal payment in connection with any qualified campaign expense of a candidate or his authorized committees shall pay to the Secretary for deposit in the matching payment account, an amount equal to 125 percent of the kickback or payment received.

           Mr. Chief Justice BURGER, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

          For reasons set forth more fully later, I dissent from those parts of the Court's holding sustaining the statutory provisions (a) for disclosure of small contributions, (b) for limitations on contributions, and (c) for public financing of Presidential campaigns. In my view, the Act's disclosure scheme is impermissibly broad and violative of the First Amendment as it relates to reporting contributions in excess of $10 and $100. The contribution limitations infringe on First Amendment liberties and suffer from the same infirmities that the Court correctly sees in the expenditure ceilings. The system for public financing of Presidential campaigns is, in my judgment, an impermissible intrusion by the Government into the traditionally private political process.

          More broadly, the Court's result does violence to the intent of Congress in this comprehensive scheme of campaign finance. By dissecting the Act bit by bit, and casting off vital parts, the Court fails to recognize that the whole of this Act is greater than the sum of its parts.

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Congress intended to regulate all aspects of federal campaign finances, but what remains after today's holding leaves no more than a shadow of what Congress contemplated. I question whether the residue leaves a workable program.

(1)
DISCLOSURE PROVISIONS

          Disclosure is, in principle, the salutary and constitutional remedy for most of the ills Congress was seeking to alleviate. I therefore agree fully with the broad proposition that public disclosure of contributions by individuals and by entities particularly corporations and labor unions is an effective means of revealing the type of political support that is sometimes coupled with expectations of special favors or rewards. That disclosure impinges on First Amendment rights is conceded by the Court, ante, at 64-66, but given the objectives to which disclosure is directed, I agree that the need for disclosure outweighs individual constitutional claims.

          Disclosure is, however, subject to First Amendment limitations which are to be defined by looking to the relevant public interests. The legitimate public interest is the elimination of the appearance and reality of corrupting influences. Serious dangers to the very processes of government justify disclosure of contributions of such dimensions reasonably thought likely to purchase special favors. These fears have been at the root of the Court's prior decisions upholding disclosure requirements, and I therefore have no disagreement, for example, with Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 54 S.Ct. 287, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934).

          The Court's theory, however, goes beyond permissible limits. Under the Court's view, disclosure serves broad informational purposes, enabling the public to be fully informed on matters of acute public interest. Forced disclosure of one aspect of a citizen's political activity,

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under this analysis, serves the public right to know. This open-ended approach is the only plausible justification for the otherwise irrationally low ceilings of $10 and $100 for anonymous contributions. The burdens of these low ceilings seem to me obvious, and the Court does not try to question this. With commendable candor, the Court acknowledges:

          "It is undoubtedly true that public disclosure of contributions to candidates and political parties will deter some individuals who otherwise might contribute." Ante, at 68.

          Examples come readily to mind. Rank-and-file union members or rising junior executives may now think twice before making even modest contributions to a candidate who is disfavored by the union or management hierarchy. Similarly, potential contributors may well decline to take the obvious risks entailed in making a reportable contribution to the opponent of a well-entrenched incumbent. This fact of political life did not go unnoticed by the Congress:

          "The disclosure provisions really have in fact made it difficult for challengers to challenge incumbents." 120 Cong.Rec. 34392 (1974) (remarks of Sen. Long).

          See Pollard v. Roberts, 283 F.Supp. 248 (ED Ark.), aff'd per curiam, 393 U.S. 14, 89 S.Ct. 47, 21 L.Ed.2d 14 (1968).

          The public right to know ought not be absolute when its exercise reveals private political convictions. Secrecy, like privacy, is not per se criminal. On the contrary, secrecy and privacy as to political preferences and convictions are fundamental in a free society. For example, one of the great political reforms was the advent of the secret ballot as a universal practice. Similarly, the enlightened labor legislation of our time has enshrined the secrecy of choice of a bargaining representative for

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workers. In other contexts, this Court has seen to it that governmental power cannot be used to force a citizen to disclose his private affiliations, NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 83 S.Ct. 328, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1963), even without a record reflecting any systematic harassment or retaliation, as in Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U.S. 479, 81 S.Ct. 247, 5 L.Ed.2d 231 (1960). For me it is far too late in the day to recognize an ill-defined "public interest" to breach the historic safeguards guaranteed by the First Amendment.

          We all seem to agree that whatever the legitimate public interest in this area, proper analysis requires us to scrutinize the precise means employed to implement that interest. The balancing test used by the Court requires that fair recognition be given to competing interests. With respect, I suggest the Court has failed to give the traditional standing to some of the First Amendment values at stake here. Specifically, it has failed to confine the particular exercise of governmental power within limits reasonably required.

          "In every case the power to regulate must be so exercised as not, in attaining a permissible end, unduly to infringe the protected freedom." Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U.S. 296, 304, 60 S.Ct. 900, 903, 84 L.Ed. 1213 (1940).

          "Unduly" must mean not more than necessary, and until today, the Court has recognized this criterion in First Amendment cases:

          "In the area of First Amendment freedoms, government has the duty to confine itself to the least intrusive regulations which are adequate for the purpose." Lamont v. Postmaster General, 381 U.S. 301, 310, 85 S.Ct. 1493, 1498, 14 L.Ed.2d 398 (1965) (Brennan, J., concurring). (Emphasis added.)

          Similarly, the Court has said:

          'Even though the governmental purpose be legiti-mate and substantial, that purpose cannot be pursued by means that broadly stifle fundamental personal liberties when the end can be more narrowly achieved. The breadth of legislative abridgement must be viewed in the light of less drastic means for achieving the same basic-

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  purpose.' Shelton v. Tucker, supra, 364 U.S. at 488, 81 S.Ct., at 252.

          In light of these views,1it seems to me that the threshold limits fixed at $10 and $100 for anonymous contributions are constitutionally impermissible on their face. As the Court's opinion notes, ante, at 83, Congress gave little or no thought, one way or the other, to these limits, but rather lifted figures out of a 65-year-old statute.2 As we are all painfully aware, the 1976 dollar is not what it used to be and is surely not the dollar of 1910. Ten dollars in 1976 will, for example, purchase only what $1.68 would buy in 1910. United States Dept. of Labor, Handbook of Labor statistics 1975, p. 313 (Dec. 1975). To argue that a 1976 contribution of $10 or $100 entails a risk of corruption or its appearance is simply too extravagant to be maintained. No public right to know justifies the compelled disclosure of such contributions, at the risk of discouraging them. There is, in short, no relation whatever between the means used and the legitimate goal of ventilating possible undue influence. Congress has used a shotgun to kill wrens as well as hawks.

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In saying that the lines drawn by Congress are "not wholly without rationality," the Court plainly fails to apply the traditional test:

          "Precision of regulation must be the touchstone in an area so closely touching on our most precious freedoms." NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 438, 83 S.Ct. 328, 340, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1938).

          See, e. g., Aptheker v. Secretary of State, 378 U.S. 500, 84 S.Ct. 1659, 12 L.Ed.2d 992 (1964); United States v. Robel, 389 U.S. 258, 88 S.Ct. 419, 19 L.Ed.2d 508 (1967); Lamont v. Postmaster General, supra. The Court's abrupt departure 3 from traditional standards is wrong; surely a greater burden rests on Congress than merely to avoid "irrationality" when regulating in the core area of the First Amendment. Even taking the Court at its word, the particular dollar amounts fixed by Congress that must be reported to the Commission fall short of meeting the test of rationality when measured by the goals sought to be achieved.

          Finally, no legitimate public interest has been shown in forcing the disclosure of modest contributions that are the prime support of new, unpopular, or unfashionable political causes. There is no realistic possibility that such modest donations will have a corrupting influence especially on parties that enjoy only "minor" status. Major parties would not notice them; minor parties need them. Furthermore, as the Court candidly recognizes, ante, at 70, minor parties and new parties tend to be sharply ideological in character, and the public can readily discern where such parties stand, without resorting to the indirect device of recording the names of financial supporters. To hold, as the Court has, that privacy must sometimes yield to congressional investigations of alleged subversion, is quite different from making domestic po-

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litical partisans give up privacy. Cf. Eastland v. United States Servicemen's Fund, 421 U.S. 491, 95 S.Ct. 1813, 44 L.Ed.2d 324 (1975). In any event, the dangers to First Amendment rights here are too great. Flushing out the names of supporters of minority parties will plainly have a deterrent effect on potential contributors, a consequence readily admitted by the Court, ante, at 71, 83, and supported by the record.4

          I would therefore hold unconstitutional the provisions requiring reporting of contributions of more than $10 and to make a public record of the name, address, and occupation of a contributor of more than $100.

(2)

                          CONTRIBUTION AND EXPENDITURE LIMITS

          I agree fully with that part of the Court's opinion that holds unconstitutional the limitations the Act puts on campaign expenditures which "place substantial and direct restrictions on the ability of candidates, citizens, and associations to engage in protected political expression, restrictions that the First Amendment cannot tolerate." Ante, at 58-59. Yet when it approves similarly stringent limitations on contributions, the Court ignores the reasons it finds so persuasive in the context of expenditures. For me contributions and expenditures are two sides of the same First Amendment coin.

          By limiting campaign contributions, the Act restricts the amount of money that will be spent on political ac-

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tivity and does so directly. Appellees argue, as the Court notes, that these limits will "act as a brake on the skyrocketing cost of political campaigns," ante, at 26. In treating campaign expenditure limitations, the Court says that the "First Amendment denies government the power to determine that spending to promote one's political views is wasteful, excessive, or unwise." Ante, at 57. Limiting contributions, as a practical matter, will limit expenditures and will put an effective ceiling on the amount of political activity and debate that the Government will permit to take place. The argument that the ceiling is not, after all, very low as matters now stand gives little comfort for the future, since the Court elsewhere notes the rapid inflation in the cost of political campaigning.5 Ante, at 57.

          The Court attempts to separate the two communicative aspects of political contributions the "moral" support that the gift itself conveys, which the Court suggests is the same whether the gift is $10 or $10,000,6 and the

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fact that money translates into communication. The Court dismisses the effect of the limitations on the second aspect of contributions: "(T)he transformation of contributions into political debate involves speech by someone other than the contributor." Ante, at 21. On this premise that contribution limitations restrict only the speech of "someone other than the contributor" rests the Court's justification for treating contributions differently from expenditures. The premise is demonstrably flawed; the contribution limitations will, in specific instances, limit exactly the same political activity that the expenditure ceilings limit,7 and at least one of the "ex-

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penditure" limitations the Court finds objectionable operates precisely like the "contribution" limitations.8

          The Court's attempt to distinguish the communication inherent in political contributions from the speech aspects of political expenditures simply "will not wash." We do little but engage in word games unless we recognize that people candidates and contributors spend money on political activity because they wish to communicate ideas, and their constitutional interest in doing so is precisely the same whether they or someone else utters the words.

          The Court attempts to make the Act seem less restrictive by casting the problem as one that goes to freedom of association rather than freedom of speech. I have long thought freedom of association and freedom of expression were two peas from the same pod. The contribution limitations of the Act impose a restriction on certain forms of associational activity that are for the most part, as the Court recognizes, ante, at 29, harmless in fact. And the restrictions are hardly incidental in their effect upon particular campaigns. Judges are ill-equipped to gauge the precise impact of legislation, but a law that impinges upon First Amendment rights requires us to make the attempt. It is not simply speculation to think that the limitations on contributions will foreclose some candidacies.9 The limitations will also alter the nature of some electoral contests drastically.10

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          At any rate, the contribution limits are a far more severe restriction on First Amendment activity than the sort of "chilling" legislation for which the Court has shown such extraordinary concern in the past. See, e. g., Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 91 S.Ct. 1780, 29 L.Ed.2d 284 (1971); see also cases reviewed in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419 (1973); Redrup v. New York, 386 U.S. 767, 87 S.Ct. 1414, 18 L.Ed.2d 515 (1967); Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U.S. 413, 86 S.Ct. 975, 16 L.Ed.2d 1 (1966). If such restraints can be justified at all, they must be justified by the very strongest of state interests. With this much the Court clearly agrees; the Court even goes so far as to note that legislation cutting into these important interests must employ "means closely drawn to avoid unnecessary abridgment of associational freedoms." Ante, at 25.

          After a bow to the "weighty interests" Congress meant to serve, the Court then forsakes this analysis in one sentence: "Congress was surely entitled to conclude that disclosure was only a partial measure, and that contribution ceilings were a necessary legislative concomitant to deal with the reality or appearance of corruption . . . ." Ante, at 28. In striking down the limitations on campaign expenditures, the Court relies in part on its conclusion that other means namely, disclosure and contribution ceilings will adequately serve the statute's aim. It is not clear why the same analysis is not also appropriate in weighing the need for contribution ceilings in addition to disclosure requirements. Congress may well be

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entitled to conclude that disclosure was a "partial measure," but I had not thought until today that Congress could enact its conclusions in the First Amendment area into laws immune from the most searching review by this Court.

          Finally, it seems clear to me that in approving these limitations on contributions the Court must rest upon the proposition that "pooling" money is fundamentally different from other forms of associational or joint activity. But see ante, at 66. I see only two possible ways in which money differs from volunteer work, endorsements, and the like. Money can be used to buy favors, because an unscrupulous politician can put it to personal use; second, giving money is a less visible form of associational activity. With respect to the first problem, the Act does not attempt to do any more than the bribery laws to combat this sort of corruption. In fact, the Act does not reach at all, and certainly the contribution limits do not reach, forms of "association" that can be fully as corrupt as a contribution intended as a quid pro quo such as the eleventh-hour endorsement by a former rival, obtained for the promise of a federal appointment. This underinclusiveness is not a constitutional flaw, but it demonstrates that the contribution limits do not clearly focus on this first distinction. To the extent Congress thought that the second problem, the lesser visibility of contributions, required that money be treated differently from other forms of associational activity, disclosure laws are the simple and wholly efficacious answer; they make the invisible apparent.

(3)
PUBLIC FINANCING

          I dissent from Part III sustaining the constitutionality of the public financing provisions of Subtitle H.

          Since the turn of this century when the idea of Govern-

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ment subsidies for political campaigns first was broached, there has been no lack of realization that the use of funds from the public treasury to subsidize political activity of private individuals would produce substantial and profound questions about the nature of our democratic society. The Majority Leader of the Senate, although supporting such legislation in 1967, said that "the implications of these questions . . . go to the very heart and structure of the Government of the Republic." 11 The Solicitor General in his amicus curiae brief states that "the issues involved here are of indisputable moment." 12 He goes on to express his view that public financing will have "profound effects in the way candidates approach issues and each other." 13 Public financing, he notes, "affects the role of the party in campaigns for office, changes the role of the incumbent government vis-a-vis all parties, and affects the relative strengths and strategies of candidates vis-a-vis each other and their party's leaders." 14

          The Court chooses to treat this novel public financing of political activity as simply another congressional appropriation whose validity is "necessary and proper" to Congress' power to regulate and reform elections and primaries, relying on United States v. Classic, 313 U.S. 299, 61 S.Ct. 1031, 85 L.Ed. 1368 (1941), and Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 54 S.Ct. 287, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934). No holding of this Court is directly in point, because no federal scheme allocating public funds in a comparable manner has ever been before us. The uniqueness of the plan is not relevant, of course, to whether Congress has power to enact it. Indeed, I do not question the power of Congress to regulate elections; nor do I

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challenge the broad proposition that the General Welfare Clause is a grant, not a limitation, of power. McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 420, 4 L.Ed. 579 (1819); United States v. Butler, 297 U.S. 1, 66, 56 S.Ct. 312, 319, 80 L.Ed. 477 (1936).

          I would, however, fault the Court for not adequately analyzing and meeting head on the issue whether public financial assistance to the private political activity of individual citizens and parties is a legitimate expenditure of public funds. The public monies at issue here are not being employed simply to police the integrity of the electoral process or to provide a forum for the use of all participants in the political dialogue, as would, for example, be the case if free broadcast time were granted. Rather, we are confronted with the Government's actual financing, out of general revenues, a segment of the political debate itself. As Senator Howard Baker remarked during the debate on this legislation:

          "I think there is something politically incestuous about the Government financing and, I believe, inevitably then regulating, the day-to-day procedures by which the Government is selected . . . .

          "I think it is extraordinarily important that the Government not control the machinery by which the public expresses the range of its desires, demands, and dissent." 120 Cong.Rec. 8202 (1974).

          If this "incest" affected only the issue of the wisdom of the plan, it would be none of the concern of judges. But, in my view, the inappropriateness of subsidizing, from general revenues, the actual political dialogue of the people the process which begets the Government itself is as basic to our national tradition as the separation of church and state also deriving from the First Amendment, see Lemon v. Kurtzman, 403 U.S. 602, 612, 91 S.Ct. 2105, 2111, 29 L.Ed.2d 745 (1971); Walz v. Tax Comm'n, 397 U.S. 664, 668-669, 90 S.Ct. 1409, 1411, 25 L.Ed.2d 697 (1970),

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or the separation of civilian and military authority, see Orloff v. Willoughby, 345 U.S. 83, 93-94, 73 S.Ct. 534, 540, 97 L.Ed. 842 (1953), neither of which is explicit in the Constitution but both of which have developed through case-by-case adjudication of express provisions of the Constitution.

          Recent history shows dangerous examples of systems with a close, "incestuous" relationship between "government" and "politics"; the Court's opinion simply dismisses possible dangers by noting that:

          "Subtitle H is a congressional effort, not to abridge, restrict, or censor speech, but rather to use public money to facilitate and enlarge public discussion and participation in the electoral process, goals vital to a self-governing people." Ante, at 92-93.

          Congress, it reassuringly adds by way of a footnote, has expressed its determination to avoid such a possibility.15 Ante, at 93 n. 126. But the Court points to no basis for predicting that the historical pattern of "varying measures of control and surveillance," Lemon v. Kurtzman, supra, 403 U.S., at 621, 91 S.Ct. at 2115 which usually accompany grants from Government will not also follow in this case.16 Up to now, the Court has always been extraordinarily sensitive, when dealing with First Amendment rights, to the risk that the "flag tends to follow the dollars." Yet, here, where Subtitle H specifically requires the auditing of records of political parties and candidates by Government inspectors,17 the Court shows

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little sensitivity to the danger it has so strongly condemned in other contexts. See, e. g., Everson v. Board of Education, 330 U.S. 1, 67 S.Ct. 504, 91 L.Ed. 711 (1947). Up to now, this Court has scrupulously refrained, absent claims of invidious discrimination,18 from entering the arena of intraparty disputes concerning the seating of convention delegates. Graham v. Fong Eu, 403 F.Supp. 37 (N.D.Cal.1975), summarily aff'd, 423 U.S. 1067, 96 S.Ct. 851, 47 L.Ed.2d 80 (1976); Cousins v. Wigoda, 419 U.S. 477, 95 S.Ct. 541, 42 L.Ed.2d 595 (1975); O'Brien v. Brown, 409 U.S. 1, 92 S.Ct. 2718, 34 L.Ed.2d 1 (1972). An obvious underlying basis for this reluctance is that delegate selection and the management of political conventions have been considered a strictly private political matter, not the business of Government inspectors. But once the Government finances these national conventions by the expenditure of millions of dollars from the public treasury, we may be providing a springboard for later attempts to impose a whole range of requirements on delegate selection and convention activities. Does this foreshadow judicial decisions allowing the federal courts to "monitor" these conventions to assure compliance with court orders or regulations?

          Assuming, arguendo, that Congress could validly appropriate public money to subsidize private political activity, it has gone about the task in Subtitle H in a manner which is not, in my view, free of constitutional infirmity.19 I do not question that Congress has "wide discretion in the manner of prescribing details of expenditures" in some contexts, Cincinnati Soap Co. v. United States, 301 U.S. 308, 321, 57 S.Ct. 764, 770, 81 L.Ed. 1122 (1937). Here, however, Congress has not itself appropriated a specific sum to attain the ends of the Act but has delegated to a limited group

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of citizens those who file tax returns the power to allocate general revenue for the Act's purposes and of course only a small percentage of that limited group has exercised the power. There is nothing to assure that the "fund" will actually be adequate for the Act's objectives. Thus, I find it difficult to see a rational basis for concluding that this scheme would, in fact, attain the stated purposes of the Act when its own funding scheme affords no real idea of the amount of the available funding.

          I agree with Mr. Justice REHNQUIST that the scheme approved by the Court today invidiously discriminates against minor parties. Assuming, arguendo, the constitutionality of the overall scheme, there is a legitimate governmental interest in requiring a group to make a "preliminary showing of a significant modicum of support." Jenness v. Fortson, 403 U.S. 431, 442, 91 S.Ct. 1970, 1976, 29 L.Ed.2d 554 (1971). But the present system could preclude or severely hamper access to funds before a given election by a group or an individual who might, at the time of the election, reflect the views of a major segment or even a majority of the electorate. The fact that there have been few drastic realignments in our basic two-party structure in 200 years is no constitutional justification for freezing the status quo of the present major parties at the expense of such future political movements. Compare discussion, ante, at 73. When and if some minority party achieves majority status, Congress can readily deal with any problems that arise. In short, I see grave risks in legislation, enacted by incumbents of the major political parties, which distinctly disadvantages minor parties or independent candidates. This Court has, until today, been particularly cautious when dealing with enactments that tend to perpetuate those who control legislative power. See Reynolds v. Sims, 377 U.S. 533, 570, 84 S.Ct. 1362, 1386, 12 L.Ed.2d 506 (1964).

          I would also find unconstitutional the system of

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matching grants which makes a candidate's ability to amass private funds the sole criterion for eligibility for public funds. Such an arrangement can put at serious disadvantage a candidate with a potentially large, widely diffused but poor constituency. The ability of a candidate's supporters to help pay for his campaign cannot be equated with their willingness to cast a ballot for him. See Lubin v. Panish, 415 U.S. 709, 94 S.Ct. 1315, 39 L.Ed.2d 702 (1974); Bullock v. Carter, 405 U.S. 134, 92 S.Ct. 849, 31 L.Ed.2d 92 (1972).

(4)

          I cannot join in the attempt to determine which parts of the Act can survive review here. The statute as it now stands is unworkable and inequitable.

          I agree with the Court's holding that the Act's restrictions on expenditures made "relative to a clearly identified candidate," independent of any candidate or his committee, are unconstitutional. Ante, at 39-51. Paradoxically the Court upholds the limitations on individual contributions, which embrace precisely the same sort of expenditures "relative to a clearly identified candidate" if those expenditures are "authorized or requested" by the "candidate or his agents." Ante, at 24 n. 25. The Act as cut back by the Court thus places intolerable pressure on the distinction between "authorized" and "unauthorized" expenditures on behalf of a candidate; even those with the most sanguine hopes for the Act might well concede that the distinction cannot be maintained. As the Senate Report on the bill said:

          "Whether campaigns are funded privately or publicly . . . controls are imperative if Congress is to enact meaningful limits on direct contributions. Otherwise, wealthy individuals limited to a $3,000 direct contribution ($1,000 in the bill as finally enacted) could also purchase one hundred thousand

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          dollars' worth of advertisements for a favored candidate. Such a loophole would render direct contribution limits virtually meaningless." S.Rep. No. 93-689, p. 18 (1974), U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News 1974, p. 5604.

          Given the unfortunate record of past attempts to draw distinctions of this kind, see ante, at 61-62, it is not too much to predict that the Court's holding will invite avoidance, if not evasion of the intent of the Act, with "independent" committees undertaking "unauthorized" activities in order to escape the limits on contributions. The Court's effort to blend First Amendment principles and practical politics has produced a strange offspring.

          Moreover, the Act or so much as the Court leaves standing creates significant inequities. A candidate with substantial personal resources is now given by the Court a clear advantage over his less affluent opponents, who are constrained by law in fundraising, because the Court holds that the "First Amendment cannot tolerate" any restrictions on spending. Ante, at 59. Minority parties, whose situation is difficult enough under an Act that excludes them from public funding, are prevented from accepting large single-donor contributions. At the same time the Court sustains the provision aimed at broadening the base of political support by requiring candidates to seek a greater number of small contributors, it sustains the unrealistic disclosure thresholds of $10 and $100 that I believe will deter those hoped-for small contributions. Minor parties must now compete for votes against two major parties whose expenditures will be vast. Finally, the Act's distinction between contributions in money and contributions in services remains, with only the former being subject to any limits. As Judge Tamm put it in dissent from the Court of Appeals' opinion:

          "(T)he classification created only regulates certain-

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          ypes of disproportional influences. Under section 591(e)(5), services are excluded from contributions. This allows the housewife to volunteer time that might cost well over $1000 to hire on the open market, while limiting her neighbor who works full-time to a regulated contribution. It enhances the disproportional influence of groups who command large quantities of these volunteer services and will continue to magnify this inequity by not allowing for an inflation adjustment to the contribution limit. It leads to the absurd result that a lawyer's contribution of services to aid a candidate in complying with FECA is exempt, but his first amendment activity is regulated if he falls ill and hires a replacement." 171 U.S.App.D.C. 172, 266, 519 F.2d 821, 915 (1975).

          One need not call problems of this order equal protection violations to recognize that the contribution limitations of the Act create grave inequities that are aggravated by the Court's interpretation of the Act.

          The Court's piecemeal approach fails to give adequate consideration to the integrated nature of this legislation. A serious question is raised, which the Court does not consider: 20 when central segments, key operative provisions, of this Act are stricken, can what remains function in anything like the way Congress intended? The incongruities are obvious. The Commission is now eliminated, yet its very purpose was to guide candidates and campaign workers and their accountants and lawyers through an intricate statutory maze where a misstep can lead to imprisonment. All candidates can now spend freely; affluent candidates, after today, can spend their own money without limit; yet, contributions for the ordi-

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nary candidate are severely restricted in amount and small contributors are deterred. I cannot believe that Congress would have enacted a statutory scheme containing such incongruous and inequitable provisions.

          Although the statute contains a severability clause, 2 U.S.C. § 454 (1970 ed., Supp. IV), such a clause is not an "inexorable command." 21 Dorchy v. Kansas, 264 U.S. 286, 290, 44 S.Ct. 323, 324, 68 L.Ed. 686 (1924). The clause creates a rebuttable presumption that " 'eliminating invalid parts, the Legislature would have been satisfied with what remained.' " Welsh v. United States, 398 U.S. 333, 364, 90 S.Ct. 1792, 1809, 26 L.Ed.2d 308 (1970) (Harlan, J., concurring, quoting from Champlin Rfg. Co. v. Commission, 286 U.S. 210, 235, 52 S.Ct. 559, 565, 76 L.Ed. 1062 (1932)). Here just as the presumption of constitutionality of a statute has been overcome to the point that major portions and chapters of the Act have been declared unconstitutional, for me the presumption of severability has been rebutted. To invoke a severability clause to sal vage parts of a comprehensive, integrated statutory scheme, which facts, standing alone, are unworkable and in many aspects unfair, exalts a formula at the expense of the broad objectives of Congress.

          Finally, I agree with the Court that the members of the Federal Election Commission were unconstitutionally appointed. However, I disagree that we should give blanket de facto validation to all actions of the Commission undertaken until today. The issue is not before us and we cannot know what acts we are ratifying. I would leave this issue to the District Court to resolve if and when any challenges are brought.

          In the past two decades the Court has frequently

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spoken of the broad coverage of the First Amendment, especially in the area of political dialogue:

          "(T)o assure unfettered interchange of ideas for the bringing about of political and social changes desired by the people," Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 484, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1308, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957);

          and:

          "(T)here is practically universal agreement that a major purpose of (the First) Amendment was to protect the free discussion of governmental affairs . . . (including) discussions of candidates . . . ," Mills v. Alabama, 384 U.S. 214, 218, 86 S.Ct. 1434, 1437, 16 L.Ed.2d 484 (1966);

          and again:

          "(I)t can hardly be doubted that the constitutional guarantee (of the First Amendment) has its fullest and most urgent application precisely to the conduct of campaigns for political office." Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U.S. 265, 272, 91 S.Ct. 621, 625, 28 L.Ed.2d 35 (1971).

          To accept this generalization one need not agree that the Amendment has its "fullest and most urgent application" only in the political area, for others would think religious freedom is on the same or even a higher plane. But I doubt that the Court would tolerate for an instant a limitation on contributions to a church or other religious cause; however grave an "evil" Congress thought the limits would cure, limits on religious expenditures would most certainly fall as well. To limit either contributions or expenditures as to churches would plainly restrict "the free exercise" of religion. In my view Congress can no more ration political expression than it can ration religious expression; and limits on political or religious contributions and expenditures effectively curb expression in both areas. There are many prices we pay for the freedoms secured by the First Amendment; the risk of undue

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influence is one of them, confirming what we have long known: Freedom is hazardous, but some restraints are worse.

           Mr. Justice WHITE, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

          I concur in the Court's answers to certified questions 1, 2, 3(b), 3(c), 3(e), 3(f), 3(h), 5, 6, 7(a), 7(b), 7(c), 7(d), 8(a), 8(b), 8(c), 8(d), 8(e), and 8(f). I dissent from the answers to certified questions 3(a), 3(d), and 4(a). I also join in Part III of the Court's opinion and in much of Parts I-B, II, and IV.

I

          It is accepted that Congress has power under the Constitution to regulate the election of federal officers, including the President and the Vice President. This includes the authority to protect the elective processes against the "two great natural and historical enemies of all republics, open violence and insidious corruption," Ex parte Yarbrough, 110 U.S. 651, 658, 4 S.Ct. 152, 155, 28 L.Ed. 274 (1884); for "(i)f this government is anything more than a mere aggregation of delegated agents of other states and governments, each of which is superior to the general government, it must have the power to protect the elections on which its existence depends, from violence and corruption," the latter being the consequence of "the free use of money in elections, arising from the vast growth of recent wealth . . . ." Id., at 657-658, 667, 4 S.Ct. at 160.

          This teaching from the last century was quoted at length and reinforced in Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 546-548, 54 S.Ct. 287, 291, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934). In that case the Court sustained the Federal Corrupt Practices Act of 1925, Title III of the Act of Feb. 28, 1925, 43 Stat. 1070, which, among other things, required political committees to keep

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records and file reports concerning all contributions and expenditures received and made by political committees for the purposes of influencing the election of candidates for federal office. The Court noted the conclusion of Congress that public disclosure of contributions would tend to prevent the corrupt use of money to influence elections; this, together with the requirement "that the treasurer's statement shall include full particulars in respect of expenditures," made it "plain that the statute as a whole is calculated to discourage the making and use of contributions for purposes of corruption." 290 U.S. at 548, 54 S.Ct. at 291. Congress clearly had the power to further as it did that fundamental goal:

          "The power of Congress to protect the election of President and Vice President from corruption being clear, the choice of means to that end presents a question primarily addressed to the judgment of Congress. If it can be seen that the means adopted are really calculated to attain the end, the degree of their necessity, the extent to which they conduce to the end, the closeness of the relationship between the means adopted, and the end to be attained, are matters for congressional determination alone." Id., at 547-548, 54 S.Ct. at 291.

          Pursuant to this undoubted power of Congress to vindicate the strong public interest in controlling corruption and other undesirable uses of money in connection with election campaigns, the Federal Election Campaign Act substantially broadened the reporting and disclosure requirements that so long have been a part of the federal law. Congress also concluded that limitations on contributions and expenditures were essential if the aims of the Act were to be achieved fully. In another major innovation, aimed at insulating candidates from the time-consuming and entangling task of raising huge sums of

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money, provision was made for public financing of political campaigns for federal office. A Federal Election Commission (FEC) was also created to administer the law.

          The disclosure requirements and the limitations on contributions and expenditures are challenged as invalid abridgments of the right of free speech protected by the First Amendment. I would reject these challenges. I agree with the Court's conclusion and much of its opinion with respect to sustaining the disclosure provisions. I am also in agreement with the Court's judgment upholding the limitations on contributions. I dissent, however, from the Court's view that the expenditure limitations of 18 U.S.C. § 608(c) and (e) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate the First Amendment.

          Concededly, neither the limitations on contributions nor those on expenditures directly or indirectly purport to control the content of political speech by candidates or by their supporters or detractors. What the Act regulates is giving and spending money, acts that have First Amendment significance not because they are themselves communicative with respect to the qualifications of the candidate, but because money may be used to defray the expenses of speaking or otherwise communicating about the merits or demerits of federal candidates for election. The act of giving money to political candidates, however, may have illegal or other undesirable consequences: it may be used to secure the express or tacit understanding that the giver will enjoy political favor if the candidate is elected. Both Congress and this Court's cases have recognized this as a mortal danger against which effective preventive and curative steps must be taken.

          Since the contribution and expenditure limitations are neutral as to the content of speech and are not motivated by fear of the consequences of the political speech

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of particular candidates or of political speech in general, this case depends on whether the nonspeech interests of the Federal Government in regulating the use of money in political campaigns are sufficiently urgent to justify the incidental effects that the limitations visit upon the First Amendment interests of candidates and their supporters.

          Despite its seeming struggle with the standard by which to judge this case, this is essentially the question the Court asks and answers in the affirmative with respect to the limitations on contributions which individuals and political committees are permitted to make to federal candidates. In the interest of preventing undue influence that large contributors would have or that the public might think they would have, the Court upholds the provision that an individual may not give to a candidate, or spend on his behalf if requested or authorized by the candidate to do so, more than $1,000 in any one election. This limitation is valid although it imposes a low ceiling on what individuals may deem to be their most effective means of supporting or speaking on behalf of the candidate i. e., financial support given directly to the candidate. The Court thus accepts the congressional judgment that the evils of unlimited contributions are sufficiently threatening to warrant restriction regardless of the impact of the limits on the contributor's opportunity for effective speech and in turn on the total volume of the candidate's political communications by reason of his inability to accept large sums from those willing to give.

          The congressional judgment, which I would also accept, was that other steps must be taken to counter the corrosive effects of money in federal election campaigns. One of these steps is § 608(e), which, aside from those funds that are given to the candidate or spent at his

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request or with his approval or cooperation limits what a contributor may independently spend in support or denigration of one running for federal office. Congress was plainly of the view that these expenditures also have corruptive potential; but the Court strikes down the provision, strangely enough claiming more insight as to what may improperly influence candidates than is possessed by the majority of Congress that passed this bill and the President who signed it. Those supporting the bill undeniably included many seasoned professionals who have been deeply involved in elective processes and who have viewed them at close range over many years.

          It would make little sense to me, and apparently made none to Congress, to limit the amounts an individual may give to a candidate or spend with his approval but fail to limit the amounts that could be spent on his behalf. Yet the Court permits the former while striking down the latter limitation. No more than $1,000 may be given to a candidate or spent at his request or with his approval or cooperation; but otherwise, apparently, a contributor is to be constitutionally protected in spending unlimited amounts of money in support of his chosen candidate or candidates.

          Let us suppose that each of two brothers spends $1 million on TV spot announcements that he has individually prepared and in which he appears, urging the election of the same named candidate in identical words. One brother has sought and obtained the approval of the candidate; the other has not. The former may validly be prosecuted under § 608(e); under the Court's view, the latter may not, even though the candidate could scarcely help knowing about and appreciating the expensive favor. For constitutional purposes it is difficult to see the difference between the two situations. I would take the word of those who know that limiting

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independent expenditures is essential to prevent transparent and widespread evasion of the contribution limits.

          In sustaining the contribution limits, the Court recognizes the importance of avoiding public misapprehension about a candi date's reliance on large contributions. It ignores that consideration in invalidating § 608(e). In like fashion, it says that Congress was entitled to determine that the criminal provisions against bribery and corruption, together with the disclosure provisions, would not in themselves be adequate to combat the evil and that limits on contributions should be provided. Here, the Court rejects the identical kind of judgment made by Congress as to the need for and utility of expenditure limits. I would not do so.

          The Court also rejects Congress' judgment manifested in § 608(c) that the federal interest in limiting total campaign expenditures by individual candidates justifies the incidental effect on their opportunity for effective political speech. I disagree both with the Court's assessment of the impact on speech and with its narrow view of the values the limitations will serve.

          Proceeding from the maxim that "money talks," the Court finds that the expenditure limitations will seriously curtail political expression by candidates and interfere substantially with their chances for election. The Court concludes that the Constitution denies Congress the power to limit campaign expenses; federal candidates and I would suppose state candidates, too are to have the constitutional right to raise and spend unlimited amounts of money in quest of their own election.

          As an initial matter, the argument that money is speech and that limiting the flow of money to the speaker violates the First Amendment proves entirely too much. Compulsory bargaining and the right to strike, both provided for or protected by federal law, inevitably have

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increased the labor costs of those who publish newspapers, which are in turn an important factor in the recent disappearance of many daily papers. Federal and state taxation directly removes from company coffers large amounts of money that might be spent on larger and better newspapers. The antitrust laws are aimed at preventing monopoly profits and price fixing, which gouge the consumer. It is also true that general price controls have from time to time existed and have been applied to the newspapers or other media. But it has not been suggested, nor could it be successfully, that these laws, and many others, are invalid because they siphon off or prevent the accumulation of large sums that would otherwise be available for communicative activities.

          In any event, as it should be unnecessary to point out, money is not always equivalent to or used for speech, even in the context of political campaigns. I accept the reality that communicating with potential voters is the heart of an election campaign and that widespread communication has become very expensive. There are, however, many expensive campaign activities that are not themselves communicative or remotely related to speech. Furthermore, campaigns differ among themselves. Some seem to spend much less money than others and yet communicate as much as or more than those supported by enormous bureaucracies with unlimited financing. The record before us no more supports the conclusion that the communicative efforts of congressional and Presidential candidates will be crippled by the expenditure limitations than it supports the contrary. The judgment of Congress was that reasonably effective campaigns could be conducted within the limits established by the Act and that the communicative efforts of these campaigns would not seriously suffer. In this posture

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of the case, there is no sound basis for invalidating the expenditure limitations, so long as the purposes they serve are legitimate and sufficiently substantial, which in my view they are.

          In the first place, expenditure ceilings reinforce the contribution limits and help eradicate the hazard of corruption. The Court upholds the overall limit of $25,000 on an individual's political contributions in a single election year on the ground that it helps reinforce the limits on gifts to a single candidate. By the same token, the expenditure limit imposed on candidates plays its own role in lessening the chance that the contribution ceiling will be violated. Without limits on total expenditures, campaign costs will inevitably and endlessly escalate. Pressure to raise funds will constantly build and with it the temptation to resort in "emergencies" to those sources of large sums, who, history shows, are sufficiently confident of not being caught to risk flouting contribution limits. Congress would save the candidate from this predicament by establishing a reasonable ceiling on all candidates. This is a major consideration in favor of the limitation. It should be added that many successful candidates will also be saved from large, overhanging campaign debts which must be paid off with money raised while holding public office and at a time when they are already preparing or thinking about the next campaign. The danger to the public interest in such situations is self-evident.

          Besides backing up the contribution provisions, which are aimed at preventing untoward influence on candidates that are elected, expenditure limits have their own potential for preventing the corruption of federal elections themselves. For many years the law has required the disclosure of expenditures as well as contributions. As Burroughs indicates, the corrupt use of money by candi-

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dates is as much to be feared as the corrosive influence of large contributions. There are many illegal ways of spending money to influence elections. One would be blind to history to deny that unlimited money tempts people to spend it on whatever money can buy to influence an election. On the assumption that financing illegal activities is low on the campaign organization's priority list, the expenditure limits could play a substantial role in preventing unethical practices. There just would not be enough of "that kind of money" to go around.

          I have little doubt in addition that limiting the total that can be spent will ease the candidate's understandable obsession with fundraising, and so free him and his staff to communicate in more places and ways unconnected with the fundraising function. There is nothing objectionable indeed it seems to me a weighty interest in favor of the provision in the attempt to insulate the political expression of federal candidates from the influence inevitably exerted by the endless job of raising increasingly large sums of money. I regret that the Court has returned them all to the treadmill.

          It is also important to restore and maintain public confidence in federal elections. It is critical to obviate or dispel the impression that federal elections are purely and simply a function of money, that federal offices are bought and sold or that political races are reserved for those who have the facility and the stomach for doing whatever it takes to bring together those interests, groups, and individuals that can raise or contribute large fortunes in order to prevail at the polls.

          The ceiling on candidate expenditures represents the considered judgment of Congress that elections are to be decided among candidates none of whom has overpowering advantage by reason of a huge campaign war chest. At least so long as the ceiling placed upon the candidates

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is not plainly too low, elections are not to turn on the difference in the amounts of money that candidates have to spend. This seems an acceptable purpose and the means chosen a common-sense way to achieve it. The Court nevertheless holds that a candidate has a constitutional right to spend unlimited amounts of money, mostly that of other people, in order to be elected. The holding perhaps is not that federal candidates have the constitutional right to purchase their election, but many will so interpret the Court's conclusion in this case. I cannot join the Court in this respect.

          I also disagree with the Court's judgment that § 608(a), which limits the amount of money that a candidate or his family may spend on his campaign, violates the Consti tution. Although it is true that this provision does not promote any interest in preventing the corruption of candidates, the provision does, nevertheless, serve salutary purposes related to the integrity of federal campaigns. By limiting the importance of personal wealth, § 608(a) helps to assure that only individuals with a modicum of support from others will be viable candidates. This in turn would tend to discourage any notion that the outcome of elections is primarily a function of money. Similarly, § 608(a) tends to equalize access to the political arena, encouraging the less wealthy, unable to bankroll their own campaigns, to run for political office.

          As with the campaign expenditure limits, Congress was entitled to determine that personal wealth ought to play a less important role in political campaigns than it has in the past. Nothing in the First Amendment stands in the way of that determination.

          For these reasons I respectfully dissent from the Court's answers to certified questions 3(a), 3(d), and 4(a).

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II

          I join the answers in Part IV of the Court's opinion, ante, at 141-142, n. 177, to the questions certified by the District Court relating to the composition and powers of the FEC, i. e., questions 8(a), 8(b), 8(c), 8(d) (with the qualifications stated infra, at 282-286), 8(e), and 8(f). I also agree with much of that part of the Court's opinion, including the conclusions that these questions are properly before us and ripe for decision, that the FEC's past acts are de facto valid, that the Court's judgment should be stayed, and that the FEC may function de facto while the stay is in effect.

          The answers to the questions turn on whether the FEC is illegally constituted because its members were not selected in the manner required by Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, the Appointments Clause. It is my view that with one exception Congress could endow a properly constituted commission with the powers and duties it has given the FEC.1

          Section 437c creates an eight-member FEC. Two members, the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House of Representatives, are ex officio members

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without the right to vote or to hold an FEC office.2 Of the remaining six, two are appointed by the President pro tempore of the Senate upon the recommendation of the majority and minority leaders of that body; two are similarly appointed by the Speaker of the House; and two are appointed by the President of the United States. The appointment of each of these six members is subject to confirmation by a majority of both Houses of Congress. § 437c(a) (1). Each member is appointed for a term of years; none can be an elected or appointed officer or employee of any branch of the Government at the time of his appointment. § 437c(a)(2), (3). The FEC is empowered to elect its own officers, § 437c(a)(5), and to appoint a staff director and general counsel. § 437c(f). Decisions are by a majority vote. § 437c(c).

          It is apparent that none of the members of the FEC is selected in a manner Art. II specifies for the appointment of officers of the United States. The Appointments Clause provides:

          "(The President) shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest 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." 3

          Although two of the members of the FEC are initially selected by the President, his nominations are subject to confirmation by both Houses of Congress. Neither

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he, the head of any department, nor the Judiciary has any voice in the selection of the remaining members of the FEC. The challenge to the FEC, therefore, is that its members are officers of the United States the mode of whose appointment was required to, but did not, conform to the Appointments Clause. That challenge is well taken.

          The Appointments Clause applies only to officers of the United States whose appointment is not "otherwise provided for" in the Constitution. Senators and Congressmen are officers of the United States, but the Constitution expressly provides the mode of their selection.4 The Constitution also expressly provides that each House of Congress is to appoint its own officers. 5 But it is not contended here that FEC members are officers of either House selected pursuant to these express provisions, if for no other reason, perhaps, than that none of the Commissioners was selected in the manner specified by these provisions none of them was finally selected by either House acting alone as Art. I authorizes.

          The appointment power provided in Art. II also applies only to officers, as distinguished from employees,6 of the United States, but there is no claim the Commissioners are employees of the United States rather than officers. That the Commissioners are among those officers of the United States referred to in the Appointments Clause of Art. II is evident from the breadth of their

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assigned duties and the nature and importance of their assigned functions.

          The functions and duties of the FEC relate to three different aspects of the election laws: First, the provisions of the Criminal Code, 18 U.S.C. §§ 608-617 (1970 ed., Supp. IV), which establish major substantive limitations on political contributions and expenditures by individuals, political organizations, and candidates; second, the reporting and disclosure provisions contained in 2 U.S.C. §§ 431-437b (1970 ed., Supp. IV), these sections requiring the filing of detailed reports of political contributions and expenditures; and third, the provisions of 26 U.S.C. §§ 9001-9042 (1970 ed., Supp. IV) with respect to the public financing of Presidential primary and general election campaigns. From the "representative examples of (the FEC's) various powers" the Court describes, ante, at 109-113, it is plain that the FEC is the primary agency for the enforcement and administration of major parts of the election laws. It does not replace or control the executive agencies with respect to criminal prosecutions, but within the wide zone of its authority the FEC is independent of executive as well as congressional control except insofar as certain of its regulations must be laid before and not be disapproved by Congress. § 438(c); 26 U.S.C. §§ 9009(c), 9039(c) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). With duties and functions such as these, members of the FEC are plainly "officers of the United States" as that term is used in Art. II, § 2, cl. 2.

          It is thus not surprising that the FEC, in defending the legality of its members' appointments, does not deny that they are "officers of the United States" as that term is used in the Appointments Clause of Art. II.7 Instead,

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for reasons the Court outlines, ante, at 131-132, 133-134, its position appears to be that even if its members are officers of the United States, Congress may nevertheless appoint a majority of the FEC without participation by the President.8 This position that Congress may itself appoint the members of a body that is to administer a wide-ranging statute will not withstand examination in light of either the purpose and history of the Appointments Clause or of prior cases in this Court.

          The language of the Appointments Clause was not mere inadvertence. The matter of the appointment of officers of the new Federal Government was repeatedly debated by the Framers, and the final formulation of the Clause arrived at only after the most careful debate and consideration of its place in the overall design of government. The appointment power was a major building block fitted into the constitutional structure designed to avoid the accumulation or exercise of arbitrary power by the Federal Government. The basic approach was that official power should be divided among the Executive, Legislative, and Judicial Departments. The separation-of-powers principle was implemented by a series of provisions, among which was the knowing decision that Congress was to have no power whatsoever to appoint federal officers, except for the power of each House to appoint its own officers serving in the strictly legislative

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processes and for the confirming power of the Senate alone.

          The decision to give the President the exclusive power to initiate appointments was thoughtful and deliberate. The Framers were attempting to structure three departments of government so that each would have affirmative powers strong enough to resist the encroachment of the others. A fundamental tenet was that the same persons should not both legislate and administer the laws.9 From the very outset, provision was made to prohibit members of Congress from holding office in another branch of the Government while also serving in Congress. There was little if any dispute about this incompatibility provision which survived in Art. I, § 6, of the Constitution as finally ratified.10 Today, no person may serve in Congress and at the same time be Attorney General, Secretary of State, a member of the judiciary, a United States attorney, or a member of the Federal Trade Commission or the National Labor Relations Board.

          Early in the 1787 Convention it was also proposed that members of Congress be absolutely ineligible during the term for which they were elected, and for a period thereafter, for appointment to any state or federal office.11 But to meet substantial opposition to so stringent a provision, ineligibility for state office was first eliminated,12 and under the language ultimately adopted, Congressmen

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were disqualified from being appointed only to those offices which were created, or for which the emoluments were increased, during their term of office.13 Offices not in this category could be filled by Representatives or Senators, but only upon resignation.

          Immediately upon settling the ineligibility provision, the Framers returned to the appointment power which they had several times before debated and postponed for later consideration.14 From the outset, there had been no dispute that the Executive alone should appoint, and not merely nominate, purely executive officers,15 but at one stage judicial officers were to be selected by the entire Congress.16 This provision was subsequently changed to lodge the power to choose judges in the Senate,17 which was later also given the power to appoint ambassadors and other public ministers.18 But following resolution of the dispute over the ineligibility provision, which served both to prevent members of Congress from appointing themselves to federal office and to limit their being appointed to federal office, it was determined that the appointment of all principal officers, whether executive or not, should originate with the President and that the Senate should have only the power of advice and consent.19 Inferior officers

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could be otherwise appointed, but not by Congress itself.20 This allocation of the appointment power, in which for the first time the Executive had the power to initiate appointment to all principal offices and the Senate was empowered to advise and consent to nominations by the Executive,21 was made possible by adoption of the ineligibility provisions and was formulated as part of the fundamental compromises with respect to the composition of the Senate, the respective roles of the House and Senate, and the placement of the election of the President in the electoral college.

          Under Art. II as finally adopted, law enforcement authority was not to be lodged in elected legislative officials subject to political pressures. Neither was the Legislative Branch to have the power to appoint those who were to enforce and administer the law. Also, the appointment power denied Congress and vested in the President was not limited to purely executive officers but reached officers performing purely judicial functions as well as all other officers of the United States.

          I thus find singularly unpersuasive the proposition that because the FEC is implementing statutory policies with respect to the conduct of elections, which policies Congress has the power to propound, its members may be appointed by Congress. One might as well argue that the exclusive and plenary power of Congress over interstate commerce authorizes Congress to appoint the members of the Interstate Commerce Commission and of many other regulatory commissions; that its exclusive power to provide for patents and copyrights would permit the administration of the patent laws to be carried out by a congressional committee; or that the exclusive power of the Federal Government to establish post offices au-

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thorizes Congress itself or the Speaker of the House and the President pro tempore of the Senate to appoint postmasters and to enforce the postal laws.

          Congress clearly has the power to create federal offices and to define the powers and duties of those offices, Myers v. United States, 272 U.S. 52, 128-129, 47 S.Ct. 21, 29, 71 L.Ed. 160 (1926), but no case in this Court even remotely supports the power of Congress to appoint an officer of the United States aside from those officers each House is authorized by Art. I to appoint to assist in the legislative processes.

          In Myers, a postmaster of the first class was removed by the President prior to the expiration of his statutory four-year term. Challenging the President's power to remove him contrary to the statute, he sued for his salary. The challenge was rejected here. The Court said that under the Constitution the power to appoint the principal officers of the Executive Branch was an inherent power of the President:

          "(T)he reasonable implication, even in the absence of express words, was that as part of his executive power (the President) should select those who were to act for him under his direction in the execution of the laws." Id., at 117, 47 S.Ct., at 25.

          Further, absent express limitation in the Constitution, the President was to have unrestricted power to remove those administrative officers essential to him in discharging his duties. These fundamental rules were to extend to those bureau and department officers with power to issue regulations and to discharge duties of a quasi-judicial nature those members of "executive tribunals whose decisions after hearing affect interests of individuals." Id., 272 U.S. at 135, 47 S.Ct. at 31. As for inferior officers such as the plaintiff postmaster, the same principles were to govern if Congress chose to place the appointment in the President with the advice and consent of the Senate, as

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was the case in Myers. Under the Appointments Clause, Congress could but did not in the Myers case permit the appointment of inferior officers by the heads of departments, in which event, the Court said, Congress would have the authority to establish a term of office and limit the reasons for their removal. But in no circumstance could Congress participate in the removal:

          "(T)he court never has held, nor reasonably could hold, although it is argued to the contrary on behalf of the appellant, that the excepting clause enables Congress to draw to itself, or to either branch of it, the power to remove or the right to participate in the exercise of that power. To do this would be to go beyond the words and implications of that clause, and to infringe the constitutional principle of the separation of governmental powers." Id., at 161, 47 S.Ct. at 40.

          Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U.S. 602, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935), limited the reach of the Myers case. There the President attempted to remove a member of the Federal Trade Commission prior to the expiration of his statutory term and for reasons not specified in the statute. The Court ruled that the Presidential removal power vindicated in Myers related solely to "purely executive officers," 295 U.S., at 628, 55 S.Ct., at 874, from whom the Court sharply distinguished officers such as the members of the Federal Trade Commission who were to be free from political dominance and control, whose duties are "neither political nor executive, but predominantly quasi judicial and quasi legislative." Id., at 624, 55 S.Ct. at 872. Contrary to the dicta in Myers, such an officer was thought to occupy "no place in the executive department," and to exercise "no part of the executive power vested by the Constitution in the President," 295 U.S., at 628, 55 S.Ct., at 874, and to be immune from removal by the President except on terms specified by Congress. The Commissioners were described as being

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in part an administrative body carrying out legislative policies and in part an agency of the Judiciary, ibid.; such a body was intended to be "independent of executive authority, except in its selection, and free to exercise its judgment without the leave or hindrance of any other official or any department of the government." Id., at 625-626, 55 S.Ct. at 873. (Emphasis in original.)

          The holding in Humphrey's Executor was confirmed in Wiener v. United States, 357 U.S. 349, 78 S.Ct. 1275, 2 L.Ed.2d 1377 (1958), but the Court did not question what Humphrey's Executor had expressly recognized that members of independent agencies are not independent of the Executive with respect to their appointments. Nor did either Wiener or Humphrey's Executor suggest that Congress could not only create the independent agency, specify its duties, and control the grounds for removal of its members but could also itself appoint or remove them without the participation of the Executive Branch of the Government. To have so held would have been contrary to the Appointments Clause as the Myers case recognized.

          It is said that historically Congress has used its own officers to receive and file the reports of campaign expenditures and contributions as required by law and that this Court should not interfere with this practice. But the Act before us creates a separate and independent campaign commission with members, some nominated by the President, who have specified terms of office, are not subject to removal by Congress, and are free from congressional control in their day-to-day functions. The FEC, it is true, is the designated authority with which candidates and political committees must file reports of contributions and expenditures, as required by the Act. But the FEC may also make rules and regulations with respect to the disclosure requirements, may investigate reported violations, issue subpoenas, hold its own hear-

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ings and institute civil enforcement proceedings in its own name. Absent a request by the FEC, it would appear that the Attorney General has no role in the civil enforcement of the reporting and disclosure requirements. The FEC may also issue advisory opinions with respect to the legality of any particular activities so as to protect those persons who in good faith have conducted themselves in reliance on the FEC's opinion. These functions go far beyond mere information gathering, and there is no long history of lodging such enforcement powers in congressional appointees.

          Nor do the FEC's functions stop with policing the reporting and disclosure requirements of the Act. The FEC is given express power to administer, obtain compliance with, and "to formulate general policy" 22 with respect to 18 U.S.C. §§ 608-617, so much so that the Act expressly provides that "(t)he Commission has primary jurisdiction with respect to the civil enforcement of such provisions." 23 Following its own proceedings the FEC may request the Attorney General to bring civil enforcement proceedings, a request which the Attorney General must honor.24 And good-faith con duct taken in accord-

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ance with the FEC's advisory opinions as to whether any transaction or activity would violate any of these criminal provisions "shall be presumed to be in compliance with" these sections.25 § 437f(b). Finally, the FEC has the central role in administering and enforcing the provisions

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of Title 26 contemplating the public financing of political campaigns. 26

          It is apparent that the FEC is charged with the enforcement of the election laws in major respects. Indeed, except for the conduct of criminal proceedings, it would appear that the FEC has the entire responsibility for enforcement of the statutes at issue here. By no stretch of the imagination can its various functions in this respect be considered mere adjuncts to the legislative process or to the powers of Congress to judge the election and qualifications of its own members.

          It is suggested, without accounting for the President's role in appointing some of its members that the FEC would be willing to forgo its civil enforcement powers and that absent these functions, it is left with nothing that purely legislative officers may not do. The difficulty is that the statute invests the FEC not only with the authority but with the duties that unquestionably make its members officers of the United States, fully as much as the members of other commissions charged with the major responsibility for administering statutes. What is more, merely forgoing its authority to bring suit would still leave the FEC with the power to issue rules and regulations, its advisory opinion authority, and primary duties to enforce the Act. Absent notice and hearing by the FEC and a request on its part, it would not appear that the Executive Branch of the Government would have any authority under the statute to institute civil enforcement proceedings with respect to the reporting and disclosure requirements or the relevant provisions of Titles 18 and 26.

          There is no doubt that the development of the admin-

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istrative agency in response to modern legislative and administrative need has placed severe strain on the separation-of-powers principle in its pristine formulation. See Kilbourn v. Thompson, 103 U.S. 168, 191, 26 L.Ed. 377 (1881). Any notion that the Constitution bans any admixture of powers that might be deemed legislative, executive, and judicial has had to give way. The independent agency has survived attacks from various directions: that it exercises invalidly delegated legislative power, Sunshine Coal Co. v. Adkins, 310 U.S. 381, 60 S.Ct. 907, 84 L.Ed. 1263 (1940); that it invalidly exer cises judicial power, ibid.; and that its functions are so executive in nature that its members must be subject to Presidential control, Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U.S. 602, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed.2d 1611 (1935). Until now, however, it has not been insisted that the commands of the Appointments Clause must also yield to permit congressional appointments of members of a major agency. With the Court, I am not convinced that we should create a broad exception to the requirements of that Clause that all officers of the United States be appointed in accordance with its terms. The provision applies to all officers, however their duties may be classified; and even if some of the FEC's functions, such as rulemaking, are purely legislative, I know of no authority for the congressional appointment of its own agents to make binding rules and regulations necessary to or advisable for the administration and enforcement of a major statute where the President has not participated either in the appointment of each of the administrators or in the fashioning of the rules or regulations which they propound.

          I do not dispute the legislative power of Congress coercively to gather and make available for public inspection massive amounts of information relevant to the legislative process. Its own officers may, as they have

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done for years, receive and file contribution and expenditure reports of candidates and political committees. Arguably, the Commissioners, although not properly appointed by the President, should at least be able to perform this function. But the members of the FEC are appointed for definite terms of office, are not removable by the President or by Congress, and even if their duties were to be severely limited, they would appear to remain Art. II officers. In any event, the task of gathering and publishing campaign finance information has been one of the specialties of the officers of the respective Houses, and these same officers under the present law continue to receive such information and to act as custodians for the FEC, at least with respect to the Senate and House political campaigns. They are also instructed to cooperate with the FEC. § 438(d).

          For these reasons I join in the Court's answers to certified questions 8(a), 8(b), 8(c), 8(e) and 8(f), and with the following reservations to question 8(d).

          Question 8(d) asks whether § 438(c) violates the constitutional rights of one or more of the plaintiffs in that "it empowers the Federal Election Commission to make rules under the F.E.C.A. in the manner specified therein." Section 438(c) imposes certain preconditions to the effectiveness of "any rule or regulation under this section . . .," but does not itself authorize the issuance of rules or regulations. That authorization is to be found in § 438(a)(10), which includes among the duties of the FEC the task of prescribing "rules and regulations to carry out the provisions of this subchapter, in accordance with the provisions of subsection (c)." The "subchapter" referred to is the subchapter dealing with federal election campaigns and the reports of contributions and expenditures required to be filed with the FEC. 27 Subsection

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(c), which is the provision expressly mentioned in question 8(d), requires that any rule or regulation prescribed by the FEC under § 438 shall be transmitted to the Senate or the House, or to both as thereafter directed. After 30 legislative days,28 the rule or regulation will become effective unless (1) either House has disapproved the rule if it relates to reports by Presidential candidates or their supporting committees; (2) the House has disapproved it if it relates to reports to be filed by House candidates or their committees; or (3) the Senate has disapproved it if the rule relates to reports by Senate candidates or their related committees.

          By expressly referring to subsection (c), question 8(d) appears to focus on the disapproval requirement; but the Court's answer is not responsive in these terms. Rather, the Court expressly disclaims holding that the FEC's rules and regulations are invalid because of the requirement that they are subject to disapproval by one or both Houses of Congress. Ante, at 140 n. 176. As I understand it, the FEC's rules and regulations, whether or not issued in compliance with § 438(c), are invalid because the members of the FEC have not been appointed in accordance with Art. II. To the extent that this is the basis for the Court's answer to the question, I am in agreement.

          If the FEC members had been nominated by the President and confirmed by the Senate as provided in Art. II,

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nothing in the Constitution would prohibit Congress from empowering the Commission to issue rules and regulations without later participation by, or consent of, the President or Congress with respect to any particular rule or regulation or initially to adjudicate questions of fact in accordance with a proper interpretation of the statute. Sunshine Coal Co. v. Adkins, 310 U.S. 381, 60 S.Ct. 907, 84 L.Ed. 1263 (1940); RFC v. Bankers Trust Co., 318 U.S. 163, 63 S.Ct. 515, 87 L.Ed. 680 (1943); Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U.S. 602, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935). The President must sign the statute creating the rulemaking authority of the agency or it must have been passed over his veto, and he must have nominated the members of the agency in accordance with Art. II; but agency regulations issued in accordance with the statute are not subject to his veto even though they may be substantive in character and have the force of law.

          I am also of the view that the otherwise valid regulatory power of a properly created independent agency is not rendered constitutionally infirm, as violative of the President's veto power, by a statutory provision subjecting agency regulations to disapproval by either House of Congress. For a bill to become law it must pass both Houses and be signed by the President or be passed over his veto. Also, "Every Order, Resolution, or Vote to which the Concurrence of the Senate and House of Representatives may be necessary . . ." is likewise subject to the veto power.29 Under § 438(c) the FEC's regulations are subject to disapproval; but for a regulation to become effective, neither House need approve it, pass it, or take any action at all with respect to it. The regulation becomes effective by nonaction. This no more invades the President's powers than does a regulation not required to be laid before Congress. Congressional influence over the substantive content of agency regulation may be en-

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hanced, but I would not view the power of either House to disapprove as equivalent to legislation or to an order, resolution, or vote requiring the concurrence of both Houses.30

          In terms of the substantive content of regulations and the degree of congressional influence over agency lawmaking, I do not suggest that there is no difference between the situation where regulations are subject to disapproval by Congress and the situation where the agency need not run the congressional gantlet. But the President's veto power, which gives him an important role in the legislative process, was obviously not considered an inherently executive function. Nor was its principal aim to provide another check against poor legislation. The major purpose of the veto power appears to have been to shore up the Executive Branch and to provide it with some bargaining and survival power against what the Framers feared would be the overweening power of legislators. As Hamilton said, the veto power was to provide a defense against the legislative department's intrusion on the rights and powers of other departments; without such power, "the legislative and executive powers might speedily come to be blended in the same hands." 31

          I would be much more concerned if Congress purported to usurp the functions of law enforcement, to control the outcome of particular adjudications, or to pre-empt the President's appointment power; but in the

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light of history and modern reality, the provision for congressional disapproval of agency regulations does not appear to transgress the constitutional design, at least where the President has agreed to legislation establishing the disapproval procedure or the legislation has been passed over his veto. It would be considerably different if Congress itself purported to adopt and propound regulations by the action of both Houses. But here no action of either House is required for the agency rule to go into effect, and the veto power of the President does not appear to be implicated.

           Mr. Justice MARSHALL, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

          I join in all of the Court's opinion except Part I-C-2, which deals with 18 U.S.C. § 608(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). That section limits the amount a candidate may spend from his personal funds, or family funds under his control, in connection with his campaigns during any calendar year. See ante, at 51-52, n. 57. The Court invalidates § 608(a) as violative of the candidate's First Amendment rights. "(T)he First Amendment," the Court explains, "simply cannot tolerate § 608(a)'s restriction upon the freedom of a candidate to speak without legislative limit on behalf of his own candidacy." Ante, at 54. I disagree.

          To be sure, § 608(a) affects the candidate's exercise of his First Amendment rights. But unlike the other expenditure limitations contained in the Act and invalidated by the Court the limitation on independent expenditures relative to a clearly identified candidate, § 608(e), and the limitations on overall candidate expenditures, § 608(c) the limitations on expenditures by candidates from personal resources contained in § 608(a) need never prevent the speaker from spending another

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dollar to communicate his ideas. Section 608(a) imposes no overall limit on the amount a candidate can spend; it simply limits the "contribution" a candidate may make to his own campaign. The candidate remains free to raise an unlimited amount in contributions from others. So long as the candidate does not contribute to his campaign more than the amount specified in § 608(a), and so long as he does not accept contributions from others in excess of the limitations imposed by § 608(b), he is free to spend without limit on behalf of his campaign.

          It is significant, moreover, that the ceilings imposed by § 608(a) on candidate expenditures from personal resources are substantially higher than the $1,000 limit imposed by § 608(e) on independent expenditures by noncandidates. Presidential and Vice Presidential candidates may contribute $50,000 of their own money to their campaigns, Senate candidates $35,000, and most House candidates $25,000. Those ceilings will not affect most candidates. But they will admittedly limit the availability of personal funds for some candidates, and the question is whether that limitation is justified.

          The Court views "(t)he ancillary interest in equalizing the relative financial resources of candidates" as the relevant rationale for § 608(a), and deems that interest insufficient to justify § 608(a). Ante, at 54. In my view the interest is more precisely the interest in promoting the reality and appearance of equal access to the political arena. Our ballot-access decisions serve as a reminder of the importance of the general interest in promoting equal access among potential candidates. See, e. g., Lubin v. Panish, 415 U.S. 709, 94 S.Ct. 1315, 39 L.Ed.2d 702 (1974); Bullock v. Carter, 405 U.S. 134, 92 S.Ct. 849, 31 L.Ed.2d 92 (1972). While admittedly those cases dealt with barriers to entry different from those we consider here, the barriers to which § 608(a) is di-

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rected are formidable ones, and the interest in removing them substantial.

          One of the points on which all Members of the Court agree is that money is essential for effective communication in a political campaign. It would appear to follow that the candidate with a substantial personal fortune at his disposal is off to a significant "headstart." Of course, the less wealthy candidate can potentially overcome the disparity in resources through contributions from others. But ability to generate contributions may itself depend upon a showing of a financial base for the campaign or some demonstration of pre-existing support, which in turn is facilitated by expenditures of substantial personal sums. Thus the wealthy candidate's immediate access to a substantial personal fortune may give him an initial advantage that his less wealthy opponent can never overcome. And even if the advantage can be overcome, the perception that personal wealth wins elections may not only discourage potential candidates without significant personal wealth from entering the political arena, but also undermine public confidence in the integrity of the electoral process.1

          The concern that candidacy for public office not become, or appear to become, the exclusive province of the wealthy assumes heightened significance when one considers the impact of § 608(b), which the Court today upholds. That provision prohibits contributions from individuals and groups to candidates in excess of $1,000, and contributions from political committees in excess of $5,000. While the limitations on contributions are neutral in the sense that

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all candidates are foreclosed from accepting large contributions, there can be no question that large contributions generally mean more to the candidate without a substantial personal fortune to spend on his campaign. Large contributions are the less wealthy candidate's only hope of countering the wealthy candidate's immediate access to substantial sums of money. With that option removed, the less wealthy candidate is without the means to match the large initial expenditures of money of which the wealthy candidate is capable. In short, the limitations on contributions put a premium on a candidate's personal wealth.

          In view of § 608(b)'s limitations on contributions, then, § 608(a) emerges not simply as a device to reduce the natural advantage of the wealthy candidate, but as a provision providing some symmetry to a regulatory scheme that otherwise enhances the natural advantage of the wealthy.2 Regardless of whether the goal of equalizing access would justify a legislative limit on personal candidate expenditures standing by itself, I think it clear that that goal justifies § 608(a)'s limits when they are considered in conjunction with the remainder of the

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Act. I therefore respectfully dissent from the Court's invalidation of § 608(a).

           Mr. Justice BLACKMUN, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

          I am not persuaded that the Court makes, or indeed is able to make, a principled constitutional distinction between the contribution limitations, on the one hand, and the expenditure limitations on the other, that are involved here. I therefore do not join Part I-B of the Court's opinion or those portions of Part I-A that are consistent with Part I-B. As to those, I dissent.

          I also dissent, accordingly, from the Court's responses to certified questions 3(b), (c), and (h). I would answer those questions in the affirmative.

          I do join the remainder of the Court's opinion and its answers to the other certified questions.

           Mr. Justice REHNQUIST, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

          I concur in Parts I, II, and IV of the Court's opinion. I concur in so much of Part III of the Court's opinion as holds that the public funding of the cost of a Presidential election campaign is a permissible exercise of congressional authority under the power to tax and spend granted by Art. I, but dissent from Part III-B-1 of the Court's opinion, which holds that certain aspects of the statutory treatment of minor parties and independent candidates are constitutionally valid. I state as briefly as possible my reasons for so doing.

          The limits imposed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments on governmental action may vary in their stringency depending on the capacity in which the government is acting. The government as proprietor, Adderley v. Florida, 385 U.S. 39, 87 S.Ct. 242, 17 L.Ed.2d 149 (1966), is, I believe,

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permitted to affect putatively protected interests in a manner in which it might not do if simply proscribing conduct across the board. Similarly, the government as employer, Pickering v. Board of Education, 391 U.S. 563, 88 S.Ct. 1731, 20 L.Ed.2d 811 (1968), and CSC v. Letter Carriers, 413 U.S. 548, 93 S.Ct. 2880, 37 L.Ed.2d 796 (1973), may prescribe conditions of employment which might be constitutionally unacceptable if enacted into standards of conduct made applicable to the entire citizenry.

          For the reasons stated in the dissenting opinion of Mr. Justice Jackson in Beauharnais v. Illinois, 343 U.S. 250, 288-295, 72 S.Ct. 725, 746-750, 96 L.Ed. 919 (1952), and by Mr. Justice Harlan in his dissenting opinion in Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 500-503, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1317-1318, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957), I am of the opinion that not all of the strictures which the First Amendment imposes upon Congress are carried over against the States by the Fourteenth Amendment, but rather that it is only the "general principle" of free speech, Gitlow v. New York, 268 U.S. 652, 672, 45 S.Ct. 625, 632, 69 L.Ed. 1138 (1925) (Holmes J., dissenting), that the latter incorporates. See Palko v. Connecticut, 302 U.S. 319, 324-325, 58 S.Ct. 149, 151-152, 82 L.Ed. 288 (1937).

          Given this view, cases which deal with state restrictions on First Amendment freedoms are not fungible with those which deal with restrictions imposed by the Federal Government, and cases which deal with the government as employer or proprietor are not fungible with those which deal with the government as a lawmaker enacting criminal statutes applying to the population generally. The statute before us was enacted by Congress, not with the aim of managing the Government's property nor of regulating the conditions of Government employment, but rather with a view to the regulation of the citizenry as a whole. The case for me, then, presents the First Amendment interests of the appellants at their strongest, and the legislative authority of Congress in the position where it is most vulnerable to First Amendment attacks.

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          While this approach undoubtedly differs from some of the underlying assumptions in the opinion of the Court, opinions are written not to explore abstract propositions of law but to decide concrete cases. I therefore join in all of the Court's opinion except Part III-B-1, which sustains, against appellants' First and Fifth Amendment challenges, the disparities found in the congressional plan for financing general Presidential elections between the two major parties, on the one hand, and minor parties and candidacies on the other.

          While I am not sure that I agree with the Court's comment, ante, at 95, that "public financing is generally less restrictive of access to the electoral process than the ballot-access regulations dealt with in prior cases," in any case that is not, under my view, an adequate answer to appellants' claim. The electoral laws relating to ballot access which were examined in Lubin v. Panish, 415 U.S. 709, 716, 94 S.Ct. 1315, 1320, 39 L.Ed.2d 702 (1974); American Party of Texas v. White, 415 U.S. 767, 780, 94 S.Ct. 1296, 1305, 39 L.Ed.2d 744 (1974); and Storer v. Brown, 415 U.S. 724, 729-730, 94 S.Ct. 1274, 1278, 39 L.Ed.2d 714 (1974); all arose out of state efforts to regulate minor party candidacies and the actual physical size of the ballot. If the States are to afford a republican form of government, they must by definition provide for general elections and for some standards as to the contents of the official ballots which will be used at those elections. The decision of the state legislature to enact legislation embodying such regulations is therefore not in any sense an optional one; there must be some standards, however few, which prescribe the contents of the official ballot if the popular will is to be translated into a choice among candidates. Dealing thus by necessity with these issues, the States have strong interests in "limiting places on the ballot to those candidates who demonstrate substantial popular support," ante, at 96. They have a like interest in discouraging

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"splintered parties and unrestrained factionalism" which might proliferate the number of candidates on a state ballot so as to make it virtually unintelligible to the average voter. Storer v. Brown, supra, 415 U.S. at 736, 94 S.Ct. at 1282.

          Congress, on the other hand, while undoubtedly possessing the legislative authority to undertake the task if it wished, is not obliged to address the question of public financing of Presidential elections at all. When it chooses to legislate in this area, so much of its action as may arguably impair First Amendment rights lacks the same sort of mandate of necessity as does a State's regulation of ballot access.

          Congress, of course, does have an interest in not "funding hopeless candidacies with large sums of public money," ante, at 96, and may for that purpose legitimately require " 'some preliminary showing of a significant modicum of support,' Jenness v. Fortson, (403 U.S. 431, 442, 91 S.Ct. 1970, 1976, 29 L.Ed.2d 554 (1971)), as an eligibility requirement for public funds." Ante, at 96. But Congress in this legislation has done a good deal more than that. It has enshrined the Republican and Democratic Parties in a permanently preferred position, and has established requirements for funding minor-party and independent candidates to which the two major parties are not subject. Congress would undoubtedly be justified in treating the Presidential candidates of the two major parties differently from minor-party or independent Presidential candidates, in view of the long demonstrated public support of the former. But because of the First Amendment overtones of the appellants' Fifth Amendment equal protection claim something more than a merely rational basis for the difference in treatment must be shown, as the Court apparently recognizes. I find it impossible to subscribe to the Court's reasoning that because no third party has posed a credible threat to the two major parties in Presiden tial¢s294¢s

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elections since 1860, Congress may by law attempt to assure that this pattern will endure forever.

          I would hold that, as to general election financing, Congress has not merely treated the two major parties differently from minor parties and independents, but has discriminated in favor of the former in such a way as to run afoul of the Fifth and First Amendments to the United States Constitution.

1. Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971, 86 Stat. 3, as amended by the Federal Election Campaign Act Amendments of 1974, 88 Stat. 1263. The pertinent portions of the legislation are set forth in the Appendix to this opinion.

2. 171 U.S.App.D.C. 172, 519 F.2d 821 (1975).

3. The Revenue Act of 1971, Title VIII, 85 Stat. 562, as amended, 87 Stat. 138, and further amended by the Federal Election Campaign Act Amendments of 1974, § 403 et seq., 88 Stat. 1291. This Subtitle consists of two parts: Chapter 95 deals with funding national party conventions and general election campaigns for President, and Chapter 96 deals with matching funds for Presidential primary campaigns.

4. "s 437h. Judicial review.

"(a) . . .

"The Commission, the national committee of any political party, or any individual eligible to vote in any election for the office of President of the United States may institute such actions in the appropriate district court of the United States, including actions for declaratory judgment, as may be appropriate to construe the constitutionality of any provision of this Act or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18. The district court immediately shall certify all questions of constitutionality of this Act or of section 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18, United States Code, to the United States court of appeals for the circuit involved, which shall hear the matter sitting en banc.

"(b) . . .

"Notwithstanding any other provision of law, any decision on a matter certified under subsection (a) of this section shall be reviewable by appeal directly to the Supreme Court of the United States. Such appeal shall be brought no later than 20 days after the decision of the court of appeals.

"(c) . . .

"It shall be the duty of the court of appeals and of the Supreme Court of the United States to advance on the docket and to expedite to the greatest possible extent the disposition of any matter certified under subsection (a) of this section."

5. Center for Public Financing of Elections, Common Cause, the League of Women Voters of the United States, Chellis O'Neal Gregory, Norman F. Jacknis, Louise D. Wides, Daniel R. Noyes, Mrs. Edgar B. Stern, Charles P. Taft, John W. Gardner, and Ruth Clusen.

6. The Court of Appeals also suggested in its en banc order that the issues arising under Subtitle H (relating to the public financing of Presidential campaigns) might require, under 26 U.S.C. § 9011(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), a different mode of review from the other issues raised in the case. The court suggested that a three-judge District Court should consider the constitutionality of these provisions in order to protect against the contingency that this Court might eventually hold these issues to be subject to determination by a three-judge court, either under § 9011(b), or 28 U.S.C. §§ 2282, 2284. 171 U.S.App.D.C. 168, 170, 519 F.2d 817, 819 (1975). The case was argued simultaneously to both the Court of Appeals, sitting en banc, and a three-judge District Court. The three-judge court limited its consideration to issues under Subtitle H. The three-judge court adopted the Court of Appeals' opinion on these questions in toto and simply entered an order with respect to those matters. 401 F.Supp. 1235. Thus, two judgments are before us one from each court upholding the constitutionality of Subtitle H, though the two cases before the Court will generally be referred to hereinafter in the singular. Since the jurisdiction of this Court to hear at least one of the appeals is clear, we need not resolve the jurisdictional ambiguities that occasioned the joint sitting of the Court of Appeals and the three-judge court.

7. The court held one provision, § 437a, unconstitutionally vague and overbroad on the ground that the provision is " 'susceptible to a reading necessitating reporting by groups whose only connection with the elective process arises from completely nonpartisan public discussion of issues of public importance.' " 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 183, 519 F.2d, at 832. No appeal has been taken from that holding.

8. The court recognized that some of the powers delegated to the Commission, when exercised in a concrete context, may be predominantly executive or judicial or unrelated to the Commission's legislative function; however, since the Commission had not yet exercised most of these challenged powers, consideration of the constitutionality of those grants of authority was postponed. See n. 157, infra.

9. See n. 4, supra.

10. This Court has held, for instance, that an organization "may assert, on behalf of its members, a right personal to them to be protected from compelled disclosure . . . of their affiliation." NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U.S. 449, 458, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 1170, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488 (1958). See also Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U.S. 516, 523 n. 9, 80 S.Ct. 412, 416, 4 L.Ed.2d 480 (1960). Similarly, parties with sufficient concrete interests at stake have been held to have standing to raise constitutional questions of separation of powers with respect to an agency designated to adjudicate their rights. Palmore v. United States, 411 U.S. 389, 93 S.Ct. 1670, 36 L.Ed.2d 342 (1973); Glidden Co. v. Zdanok, 370 U.S. 530, 82 S.Ct. 1459, 8 L.Ed.2d 671 (1962); Coleman v. Miller, 307 U.S. 433, 59 S.Ct. 972, 83 L.Ed. 1385 (1939).

11. Accordingly, the two relevant certified questions are answered as follows:

1. Does the first sentence of § 315(a) of the Federal Election Campaign Act, as amended, 2 U.S.C. § 437h(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), in he context of this action, require courts of the United States to render advisory opinions in violation of the "case or controversy" requirement of Article III, § 2, of the Constitution of the United States? NO.

2. Has each of the plaintiffs alleged sufficient injury to his constitutional rights enumerated in the following questions to create a constitutional "case or controversy" within the judicial power under Article III? YES.

12. See 18 U.S.C. §§ 608(b)(1), (3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), set forth in the Appendix, infra, at 189. An organization registered as a political committee for not less than six months which has received contributions from at least 50 persons and made contributions to at least five candidates may give up to $5,000 to any candidate for any election. 18 U.S.C. § 608(b)(2) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), set forth in the Appendix, infra, at 189. Other groups are limited to making contributions of $1,000 per candidate per election.

13. See 18 U.S.C. § 608(e) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), set forth in the Appendix, infra, at 193-194.

14. See 18 U.S.C. § 608(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), set forth in the Appendix, infra, at 187-189.

15. See 18 U.S.C. § 608(c) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), set forth in the Appendix, infra, at 190-192.

16. Article I, § 4, of the Constitution grants Congress the power to regulate elections of members of the Senate and House of Representatives. See Smiley v. Holm, 285 U.S. 355, 52 S.Ct. 397, 76 L.Ed. 795 (1932); Ex parte Yarbrough, 110 U.S. 651, 4 S.Ct. 152, 28 L.Ed. 274 (1884). Although the Court at one time indicated that party primary contests were not "elections" within the meaning of Art. I, § 4, Newberry v. United States, 256 U.S. 232, 41 S.Ct. 469, 65 L.Ed. 913 (1921), it later held that primary elections were within the Constitution's grant of authority to Congress. United States v. Classic, 313 U.S. 299, 61 S.Ct. 1031, 85 L.Ed. 1368 (1941). The Court has also recognized broad congressional power to legislate in connection with the elections of the President and Vice President. Burroughs v. United States, 290 U.S. 534, 54 S.Ct. 287, 78 L.Ed. 484 (1934). See Part III, infra.

17. The nongovernmental appellees argue that just as the decibels emitted by a sound truck can be regulated consistently with the First Amendment, Kovacs v. Cooper, 336 U.S. 77, 69 S.Ct. 448, 93 L.Ed.2d 513 (1949), the Act may restrict the volume of dollars in political campaigns without impermissibly restricting freedom of speech. See Freund, Commentary in A. Rosenthal, Federal Regulation of Campaign Finance: Some Constitutional Questions 72 (1971). This comparison underscores a fundamental misconception. The decibel restriction upheld in Kovacs limited the manner of operating a soundtruck but not the extent of its proper use. By contrast, the Act's dollar ceilings restrict the extent of the reasonable use of virtually every means of communicating information. As the Kovacs Court emphasized, the nuisance ordinance only barred sound trucks from broadcasting "in a loud and raucous manner on the streets," 336 U.S., at 89, 69 S.Ct., at 454, and imposed "no restriction upon the communication of ideas or discussion of issues by the human voice, by newspapers, by pamphlets, by dodgers," or by soundtrucks operating at a reasonable volume. Ibid. See Saia v. New York, 334 U.S. 558, 561-562, 68 S.Ct. 1148, 1150, 92 L.Ed. 1574 (1948).

18. Being free to engage in unlimited political expression subject to a ceiling on expenditures is like being free to drive an automobile as far and as often as one desires on a single tank of gasoline.

19. Political parties that fail to qualify a candidate for a position on the ballot are classified as "persons" and are subject to the $1,000 independent expenditure ceiling. See 18 U.S.C. §§ 591(g), (i), 608(e)(1), (f) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). Institutional press facilities owned or controlled by candidates or political parties are also subject to expenditure limits under the Act. See 18 U.S.C. §§ 591(f)(4)(A), 608(c)(2)(B), (e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

Unless otherwise indicated all subsequent statutory citations in Part I of this opinion are to Title 18 of the United States Code, 1970 edition, Supplement IV.

20. The record indicates that, as of January 1, 1975, one full-page advertisement in a daily edition of a certain metropolitan newspaper cost $6,971.04 almost seven times the annual limit on expenditures "relative to" a particular candidate imposed on the vast majority of individual citizens and associations by § 608(e)(1).

21. The statistical findings of fact agreed to by the parties in the District Court indicate that 17 of 65 major-party senatorial candidates in 1974 spent more than the combined primary-election, general-election, and fundraising limitations imposed by the Act. §§ 591(f)(4)(H), 608(c)(1)(C), (D). The 1972 senatorial figures showed that 18 of 66 major-party candidates exceeded the Act's limitations. This figure may substantially underestimate the number of candidates who exceeded the limits provided in the Act, since the Act imposes separate ceilings for the primary election, the general election, and fundraising, and does not permit the limits to be aggregated. § 608(c)(3). The data for House of Representatives elections are also skewed, since statistics reflect a combined $168,000 limit instead of separate $70,000 ceilings for primary and general elections with up to an additional 20% Permitted for fundraising. §§ 591(f)(4)(H), 608(c)(1)(E). Only 22 of the 810 major-party House candidates in 1974 and 20 of the 816 major-party candidates in 1972 exceeded the $168,000 figure. Both Presidential candidates in 1972 spent in excess of the combined Presidential expenditure ceilings. §§ 608(c) (1)(A), (B).

22. Other factors relevant to an assessment of the "intensity" of the support indicated by a contribution include the contributor's financial ability and his past contribution history.

23. Statistical findings agreed to by the parties reveal that approximately 5.1% Of the $73,483,613 raised by the 1,161 candidates for Congress in 1974 was obtained in amounts in excess of $1,000. In 1974, two major-party senatorial candidates, Ramsey Clark and Senator Charles Mathias, Jr., operated large-scale campaigns on contributions raised under a voluntarily imposed $100 contribution limitation.

24. The Act exempts from the contribution ceiling the value of all volunteer services provided by individuals to a candidate or a political committee and excludes the first $500 spent by volunteers on certain categories of campaign-related activities. §§ 591(e)(5)(A)-(D). See infra, at 36-37.

The Act does not define the phrase "for the purpose of influencing" an election that determines when a gift, loan, or advance constitutes a contribution. Other courts have given that phrase a narrow meaning to alleviate various problems in other contexts. See United States v. National Comm. for Impeachment, 469 F.2d 1135, 1139-1142 (CA2 1972); American Civil Liberties Union v. Jennings, 366 F.Supp. 1041, 1055-1057 (DC 1973) (three-judge court), vacated as moot sub nom. Staats v. American Civil Liberties Union, 422 U.S. 1030, 95 S.Ct. 2646, 45 L.Ed.2d 686 (1975). The use of the phrase presents fewer problems in connection with the definition of a contribution because of the limiting connotation created by the general understanding of what constitutes a political contribution. Funds provided to a candidate or political party or campaign committee either directly or indirectly through an intermediary constitute a contribution. In addition, dollars given to another person or organization that are earmarked for political purposes are contributions under the Act.

25. Expenditures by persons and associations that are "authorized or requested" by the candidate or his agents are treated as contributions under the Act. See n. 53, infra.

26. Contribution limitations alone would not reduce the greater potential voice of affluent persons and well-financed groups, who would remain free to spend unlimited sums directly to promote candidates and policies they favor in an effort to persuade voters.

27. Yet, a ceiling on the size of contributions would affect only indirectly the costs of political campaigns by making it relatively more difficult for candidates to raise large amounts of money. In 1974, for example, 94.9% Of the funds raised by candidates for Congress came from contributions of $1,000 or less, see n. 23, supra. Presumably, some or all of the contributions in excess of $1,000 could have been replaced through efforts to raise additional contributions from persons giving less than $1,000. It is the Act's campaign expenditure limitations, § 608(c), not the contribution limits, that directly address the overall scope of federal election spending.

28. The Court of Appeals' opinion in this case discussed a number of the abuses uncovered after the 1972 elections. See 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 190-191, and nn. 36-38, 519 F.2d, at 839-840, and nn. 36-38.

29. Although the Court in Letter Carriers found that this interest was constitutionally sufficient to justify legislation prohibiting federal employees from engaging in certain partisan political activities, it was careful to emphasize that the limitations did not restrict an employee's right to express his views on political issues and candidates. 413 U.S., at 561, 568, 575-576, 579, 93 S.Ct., at 2888, 2892, 2895-2896, 2897. See n. 54, infra.

30. The Act's disclosure provisions are discussed in Part II, infra.

31. While providing significant limitations on the ability of all individuals and groups to contribute large amounts of money to candidates, the Act's contribution ceilings do not foreclose the making of substantial contributions to candidates by some major special-interest groups through the combined effect of individual contributions from adherents or the proliferation of political funds each authorized under the Act to contribute to candidates. As a prime example, § 610 permits corporations and labor unions to establish segregated funds to solicit voluntary contributions to be utilized for political purposes. Corporate and union resources without limitation may be employed to administer these funds and to solicit contributions from employees, stockholders, and union members. Each separate fund may contribute up to $5,000 per candidate per election so long as the fund qualifies as a political committee under § 608(b)(2). See S.Rep. No. 93-1237, pp. 50-52 (1974), U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News 1974, pp. 5587, 5618; Federal Election Commission, Advisory Opinion 1975-23, 40 Fed.Reg. 56584 (1975).

The Act places no limit on the number of funds that may be formed through the use of subsidiaries or divisions of corporations, or of local and regional units of a national labor union. The potential for proliferation of these sources of contributions is not insignificant. In 1972, approximately 1,824,000 active corporations filed federal income tax returns. Internal Revenue Service, Preliminary Statistics of Income 1972, Corporation Income Tax Returns, p. 1 (Pub. 159 (11-74)). (It is not clear whether this total includes subsidiary corporations where the parent filed a consolidated return.) In the same year, 71,409 local unions were chartered by national unions. Department of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics, Directory of National Unions and Employee Associations 1973, p. 87 (1974).

The Act allows the maximum contribution to be made by each unit's fund provided the decision or judgment to contribute to particular candidates is made by the fund independently of control or direction by the parent corporation or the national or regional union. See S.Rep. No. 93-1237, pp. 51-52 (1974).

32. The Act's limitations applicable to both campaign expenditures and a candidate's personal expenditures on his own behalf are scaled to take account of the differences in the amounts of money required for congressional and Presidential campaigns. See § 608(a)(1), (c)(1)(A)-(E).

33. In this discussion, we address only the argument that the contribution limitations alone impermissibly discriminate against non-incumbents. We do not address the more serious argument that these limitations, in combination with the limitation on expenditures by individuals and groups, the limitation on a candidate's use of his own personal and family resources, and the overall ceiling on campaign expenditures invidiously discriminate against major-party challengers and minor-party candidates.

Since an incumbent is subject to these limitations to the same degree as his opponent, the Act, on its face, appears to be evenhanded. The appearance of fairness, however, may not reflect political reality. Although some incumbents are defeated in every congressional election, it is axiomatic that an incumbent usually begins the race with significant advantages. In addition to the factors of voter recognition and the status accruing to holding federal office, the incumbent has access to substantial resources provided by the Government. These include local and Washington offices, staff support, and the franking privilege. Where the incumbent has the support of majorspecial-interest groups which have the flexibility described in n. 31, supra, and is further supported by the media, the overall effect of the contribution and expenditure limitations enacted by Congress could foreclose any fair opportunity of a successful challenge.

However, since we decide in Part I-C, infra, that the ceilings on independent expenditures, on the candidate's expenditures from his personal funds, and on overall campaign expenditures are unconstitutional under the First Amendment, we need not express any opinion with regard to the alleged invidious discrimination resulting from the full sweep of the legislation as enacted.

34. In 1974, for example, 40 major-party challengers defeated incumbent members of the House of Representatives in the general election. Four incumbent Senators were defeated by major-party challengers in the 1974 primary and general election campaigns.

35. In the 1974 races for the House of Representatives, three of the 22 major-party candidates exceeding the combined expenditure limits contained in the Act were challengers to incumbents and nine were candidates in races not involving incumbents. The comparable 1972 statistics indicate that 14 of the 20 major-party candidates exceeding the combined limits were nonincumbents.

36. In 1974, major-party challengers outspent House incumbents in 22% Of the races, and 22 of the 40 challengers who defeated House incumbents outspent their opponents. In 1972, 24% Of the major-party challengers in senatorial elections outspent their incumbent opponents. The 1974 statistics for senatorial contests reveal substantially greater financial dominance by incumbents.

37. Of the $3,781,254 in contributions raised in 1974 by congressional candidates over and above a $1,000-per-contributor limit, almost twice as much money went to incumbents as to major-party challengers.

38. Appellants contend that the Act discriminates against challengers, because, while it limits contributions to all candidates, the Government makes available other material resources to incumbents. See n. 33, supra. Yet, taking cognizance of the advantages and disadvantages of incumbency, there is little indication that the $1,000 contribution ceiling will consistently harm the prospects of challengers relative to incumbents.

39. Between September 1, 1973, and December 31, 1974, major-party candidates for the House and Senate raised over $3,725,000 in contributions over and above $1,000 compared to $55,000 raised by minor-party candidates in amounts exceeding the $1,000 contribution limit.

40. Appellant Libertarian Party, according to estimates of its national chairman, has received only 10 contributions in excess of $1,000 out of a total of 4,000 contributions. Even these 10 contributions would have been permissible under the Act if the donor did not earmark the funds for a particular candidate and did not exceed the overall $25,000 contribution ceiling for the calendar year. See § 608(b). Similarly, appellants Conservative Victory Fund and American Conservative Union have received only an insignificant portion of their funding through contributions in excess of $1,000. The affidavit of the executive director of the Conservative Victory Fund indicates that in 1974, a typical fundraising year, the Fund received approximately $152,000 through over 9,500 individual contributions. Only one of the 9,500 contributions, an $8,000 contribution earmarked for a particular candidate, exceeded $1,000. In 1972, the Fund received only three contributions in excess of $1,000, all of which might have been legal under the Act if not earmarked. And between April 7, 1972, and February 28, 1975, the American Conservative Union did not receive any aggregate contributions exceeding $1,000. Moreover, the Committee for a Constitutional Presidency McCarthy '76, another appellant, engaged in a concerted effort to raise contributions in excess of $1,000 before the effective date of the Act but obtained only five contributions in excess of $1,000.

Although appellants claim that the $1,000 ceiling governing contributions to candidates will prevent the acquisition of seed money necessary to launch campaigns, the absence of experience under the Act prevents us from evaluating this assertion. As appellees note, it is difficult to assess the effect of the contribution ceiling on the acquisition of seed money since candidates have not previously had to make a concerted effort to raise start-up funds in small amounts.

41. Appellant Buckley was a minor-party candidate in 1970 when he was elected to the United States Senate from the State of New York.

42. Although expenditures incidental to volunteer services would appear self-limiting, it is possible for a worker in a candidate's campaign to generate substantial travel expenses. An affidavit submitted by Stewart Mott, an appellant, indicates that he "expended some $50,000 for personal expenses" in connection with Senator McGovern's 1972 Presidential campaign.

43. The Act contains identical, parallel provisions pertaining to incidental volunteer expenses under the definitions of contribution and expenditure. Compare §§ 591(e)(5)(B)-(D) with §§ 591(f)(4)(D), (E). The definitions have two effects. First, volunteer expenses that are counted as contributions by the volunteer would also constitute expenditures by the candidate's campaign. Second, some volunteer expenses would qualify as contributions whereas others would constitute independent expenditures. The statute distinguishes between independent expenditures by individuals and campaign expenditures on the basis of whether the candidate, an authorized committee of the candidate, or an agent of the candidate "authorized or requested" the expenditure. See § 608(c)(2) (B)(ii), (e)(1); S.Rep. No. 93-689, p. 18 (1974); H.R.Rep. No. 93-1239, p. 6 (1974); U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News 1974, p. 5587. As a result, only travel that is "authorized or requested" by the candidate or his agents would involve incidental expenses chargeable against the volunteer's contribution limit and the candidate's expenditure ceiling. See n. 53, infra. Should a person independently travel across the country to participate in a campaign, any unreimbursed travel expenses would not be treated as a contribution. This interpretation is not only consistent with the statute and the legislative history but is also necessary to avoid the administrative chaos that would be produced if each volunteer and candidate had to keep track of amounts spent on unsolicited travel in order to comply with the Act's contribution and expenditure ceilings and the reporting and disclosure provisions. The distinction between contributions and expenditures is also discussed at n. 53, infra, and in Part II-C-2, infra.

44. See n. 19, supra.

1. The $1,000 Limitation on Expenditures "Relative to a Clearly Identified Candidate"

45. The same broad definition of "person" applicable to the contribution limitations governs the meaning of "person" in § 608(e)(1). The statute provides some limited exceptions through various exclusions from the otherwise comprehensive definition of "expenditure." See § 591(f). The most important exclusions are: (1) "any news story, commentary, or editorial distributed through the facilities of any broadcasting station, newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication, unless such facilities are owned or controlled by any political party, political committee, or candidate," § 591(f)(4)(A), and (2) "any communication by any membership organization or corporation to its members or stockholders, if such membership organization or corporation is not organized primarily for the purpose of influencing the nomination for election, or election, of any person to Federal office," § 591(f)(4)(C). In addition, the Act sets substantially higher limits for personal expenditures by a candidate in connection with his own campaign, § 608(a), expenditures by national and state committees of political parties that succeed in placing a candidate on the ballot, §§ 591(i), 608(f), and total campaign expenditures by candidates, § 608(c).

46. Section 608(i) provides that any person convicted of exceeding any of the contribution or expenditure limitations "shall be fined not more than $25,000 or imprisoned not more than one year, or both."

47. Several of the parties have suggested that problems of ambiguity regarding the application of § 608(e)(1) to specific campaign speech could be handled by requesting advisory opinions from the Commission. While a comprehensive series of advisory opinions or a rule delineating what expenditures are "relative to a clearly identified candidate" might alleviate the provision's vagueness problems, reliance on the Commission is unacceptable because the vast majority of individuals and groups subject to criminal sanctions for violating § 608(e)(1) do not have a right to obtain an advisory opinion from the Commission. See 2 U.S.C. § 437f (1970 ed., Supp. IV). Section 437f(a) of Title 2 accords only candidates, federal officeholders, and political committees the right to request advisory opinions and directs that the Commission "shall render an advisory opinion, in writing, within a reasonable time" concerning specific planned activities or transactions of any such individual or committee. The powers delegated to the Commission thus do not assure that the vagueness concerns will be remedied prior to the chilling of political discussion by individuals and groups in this or future election years.

48. In such circumstances, vague laws may not only "trap the innocent by not providing fair warning" or foster "arbitrary and discriminatory application" but also operate to inhibit protected expression by inducing "citizens to ' "steer far wider of the unlawful zone" . . . than if the boundaries of the forbidden areas were clearly marked.' " Grayned v. City of Rockford, 408 U.S. 104, 108-109, 92 S.Ct. 2294, 2299, 33 L.Ed.2d 222 (1972), quoting Baggett v. Bullitt, 377 U.S. 360, 372, 84 S.Ct. 1316, 1322, 12 L.Ed.2d 377 (1964), quoting Speiser v. Randall, 357 U.S. 513, 526, 78 S.Ct. 1332, 1342, 2 L.Ed.2d 1460 (1958). "Because First Amendment freedoms need breathing space to survive, government may regulate in the area only with narrow specificity." NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S. 415, 433, 83 S.Ct. 328, 338, 9 L.Ed.2d 405 (1963).

49. This interpretation of "relative to" a clearly identified candidate is supported by the discussion of § 608(e)(1) in the Senate Report, S.Rep.No.93-689, p. 19 (1974), the House Report, H.R.Rep.No.93-1239, p. 7 (1974), the Conference Report,S.Conf.Rep.No.93-1237, pp. 56-57 (1974), and the opinion of the Court of Appeals, 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 203-204, 519 F.2d, at 852-853.

50. In connection with another provision containing the same advocacy language appearing in § 608(e)(1), the Court of Appeals concluded:

"Public discussion of public issues which also are campaign issues readily and often unavoidably draws in candidates and their positions, their voting records and other official conduct. Discussions of those issues, and as well more positive efforts to influence public opinion on them, tend naturally and inexorably to exert some influence on voting at elections." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 226, 519 F.2d, at 875.

51. Section 608(e)(2) defines "clearly identified" to require that the candidate's name, photograph or drawing, or other unambiguous reference to his identity appear as part of the communication. Such other unambiguous reference would include use of the candidate's initials (e. g., FDR), the candidate's nickname (e. g., Ike), his office (e. g., the President or the Governor of Iowa), or his status as a candidate (e. g., the Democratic Presidential nominee, the senatorial candidate of the Republican Party of Georgia).

52. This construction would restrict the application of § 608(e)(1) to communications containing express words of advocacy of election or defeat, such as "vote for," "elect," "support," "cast your ballot for," "Smith for Congress," "vote against," "defeat," "reject."

53. Section 608(e)(1) does not apply to expenditures "on behalf of a candidate" within the meaning of § 608(c)(2)(B). The latter subsection provides that expenditures "authorized or requested by the candidate, an authorized committee of the candidate, or an agent of the candidate" are to be treated as expenditures of the candidate and contributions by the person or group making the expenditure. The House and Senate Reports provide guidance in differentiating individual expenditures that are contributions and candidate expenditures under § 608(c)(2)(B) from those treated as independent expenditures subject to the § 608(e)(1) ceiling. The House Report speaks of independent expenditures as costs "incurred without the request or consent of a candidate or his agent." H.R.Rep. No. 93-1239, p. 6 (1974). The Senate report addresses the issue in greater detail. It provides an example illustrating the distinction between "authorized or requested" expenditures excluded from § 608(e)(1) and independent expenditures governed by § 608(e)(1):

"(A) person might purchase billboard advertisements endorsing a candidate. If he does so completely on his own, and not at the request or suggestion of the candidate or his agent's (sic ) that would constitute an 'independent expenditure on behalf of a candidate' under section 614(c) of the bill. The person making the expenditure would have to report it as such.

"However, if the advertisement was placed in cooperation with the candidate's campaign organization, then the amount would constitute a gift by the supporter and an expenditure by the candidate just as if there had been a direct contribution enabling the candidate to place the advertisement himself. It would be so reported by both." S.Rep. No. 93-689, p. 18 (1974), U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News 1974, p. 5604.

The Conference substitute adopted the provision of the Senate bill dealing with expenditures by any person "authorized or requested" to make an expenditure by the candidate or his agents. S.Conf.Rep. No. 93-1237, p. 55 (1974). In view of this legislative history and the purposes of the Act, we find that the "authorized or requested" standard of the Act operates to treat all expenditures placed in cooperation with or with the consent of a candidate, his agents, or an authorized committee of the candidate as contributions subject to the limitations set forth in § 608(b).

54. Appellees mistakenly rely on this Court's decision in CSC v. Letter Carriers, as supporting § 608(e)(1)'s restriction on the spending of money to advocate the election or defeat of a particular candidate. In upholding the Hatch Act's broad restrictions on the associational freedoms of federal employees, the Court repeatedly emphasized the statutory provision and corresponding regulation permitting an employee to " '(e)xpress his opinion as an individual privately and publicly on political subjects and candidates.' " 413 U.S., at 579, 93 S.Ct., at 2897, quoting 5 CFR § 733.111(a)(2). See 413 U.S., at 561, 568, 575-576, 93 S.Ct., 2888, 2892, 2895-2896. Although the Court "unhesitatingly" found that a statute prohibiting federal employees from engaging in a wide variety of "partisan political conduct" would "unquestionably be valid," it carefully declined to endorse provisions threatening political expression. See Id., at 556, 579-581, 93 S.Ct., at 2890, 2897-2898. The Court did not rule on the constitutional questions presented by the regulations forbidding partisan campaign endorsements through the media and speechmaking to political gatherings because it found that these restrictions did not "make the statute substantially overbroad and so invalid on its face." Id., at 581, 93 S.Ct., at 2898.

55. Neither the voting rights cases nor the Court's decision upholding the Federal Communications Commission's fairness doctrine lends support to appellees' position that the First Amendment permits Congress to abridge the rights of some persons to engage in political expression in order to enhance the relative voice of other segments of our society.

Cases invalidating governmentally imposed wealth restrictions on the right to vote or file as a candidate for public office rests on the conclusion that wealth "is not germane to one's ability to participate intelligently in the electoral process" and is therefore an insufficient basis on which to restrict a citizen's fundamental right to vote. Harper v. Virginia Bd. of Elections, 383 U.S. 663, 668, 86 S.Ct. 1079, 1082, 16 L.Ed.2d 169 (1966). See Lubin v. Panish, 415 U.S. 709, 94 S.Ct. 1315, 39 L.Ed.2d 702 (1974); Bullock v. Carter, 405 U.S. 134, 92 S.Ct. 849, 31 L.Ed.2d 92 (1972); Phoenix v. Kolodziejski, 399 U.S. 204, 90 S.Ct. 1990, 26 L.Ed.2d 523 (1970). These voting cases and the reapportionment decisions serve to assure that citizens are accorded an equal right to vote for their representatives regardless of factors of wealth or geography. But the principles that underlie invalidation of governmentally imposed restrictions on the franchise do not justify governmentally imposed restrictions on political expression. Democracy depends on a well-informed electorate, not a citizenry legislatively limited in its ability to discuss and debate candidates and issues.

In Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 23 L.Ed.2d 371 (1969), the Court upheld the political-editorial and personal-attack portions of the Federal Communications Commission's fairness doctrine. That doctrine requires broadcast licensees to devote programing time to the discussion of controversial issues of public importance and to present both sides of such issues. Red Lion "makes clear that the broadcast media pose unique and special problems not present in the traditional free speech case," by demonstrating that " 'it is idle to posit an unabridgeable First Amendment right to broadcast comparable to the right of every individual to speak, write, or publish.' " Columbia Broadcasting v. Democratic Comm., 412 U.S. 94, 101, 93 S.Ct. 2080, 2086, 36 L.Ed.2d 772 (1973), quoting Red Lion Broadcasting Co., supra, 395 U.S., at 388, 89 S.Ct., at 1805. Red Lion therefore undercuts appellees' claim that § 608(e)(1)'s limitations may permissibly restrict the First Amendment rights of individuals in this "traditional free speech case." Moreover, in contrast, to the undeniable effect of § 608(e)(1), the presumed effect of the fairness doctrine is one of "enhancing the volume and quality of coverage" of public issues. 395 U.S., at 393, 89 S.Ct., at 1808.

56. The Act exempts most elements of the institutional press, limiting only expenditures by institutional press facilities that are owned or controlled by candidates and political parties. See § 591(f)(4)(A). But, whatever differences there may be between the constitutional guarantees of a free press and of free speech, it is difficult to conceive of any principled basis upon which to distinguish § 608(e)(1)'s limitations upon the public at large and similar limitations imposed upon the press specifically.

57. The $35,000 ceiling on expenditures by candidates for the Senate also applies to candidates for the House of Representatives from States entitled to only one Representative. § 608(a)(1)(B).

The Court of Appeals treated § 608(a) as relaxing the$1,000-per-candidate contribution limitation imposed by § 608(b)(1) so as to permit any member of the candidate's immediate family spouse, child, grandparent, brother, sister, or spouse of such persons to

contribute up to the $25,000 overall annual contribution ceiling to the candidate. See 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 205, 519 F.2d, at 854. The Commission has recently adopted a similar interpretation of the provision. See Federal Election Commission, Advisory Opinion 1975-76 (Dec. 5, 1975), 40 Fed.Reg. 58393. However, both the Court of Appeals and the Commission apparently overlooked the Conference Report accompanying the final version of the Act which expressly provides for a contrary interpretation of § 608(a):

"It is the intent of the conferees that members of the immediate family of any candidate shall be subject to the contribution limitations established by this legislation. If a candidate for the office of Senator, for example, already is in a position to exercise control over funds of a member of his immediate family before he becomes a candidate, then he could draw upon these funds up to the limit of $35,000. If, however, the candidate did not have access to or control over such funds at the time he became a candidate, the immediate family member would not be permitted to grant access or control to the candidate in amounts up to $35,000, if the immediate family member intends that such amounts are to be used in the campaign of the candidate. The immediate family member would be permitted merely to make contributions to the candidate in amounts not greater than $1,000 for each election involved." S.Conf.Rep. No. 93-1237, p. 58 (1974), U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News 1974, p. 5627.

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58. The Court of Appeals evidently considered the personal funds expended by the candidate on his own behalf as a contribution rather than an expenditure. See 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 205, 519 F.2d, at 854. However, unlike a person's contribution to a candidate, a candidate's expenditure of his personal funds directly facilitates his own political speech.

59. The legislative history of the Act clearly indicates that § 608(a) was not intended to suspend the application of the $1,000 contribution limitation of § 608(b)(1) for members of the candidate's immediate family. See n. 57, supra. Although the risk of improper influence is somewhat diminished in the case of large contributions from immediate family members, we cannot say that the danger is sufficiently reduced to bar Congress from subjecting family members to the same limitations as nonfamily contributors.

The limitation on a candidate's expenditure of his own funds differs markedly from a limitation on family contributions both in the absence of any threat of corruption and the presence of a legislative restriction on the candidate's ability to fund his own communication with the voters.

60. Expenditures made by an authorized committee of the candidate or any other agent of the candidate as well as any expenditure by any other person that is "authorized or requested" by the candidate or his agent are charged against the candidate's spending ceiling. § 608(c)(2)(B).

61. Expenditures made by or on behalf of a Vice Presidential candidate of a political party are considered to have been made by or on behalf of the party's Presidential candidate. § 608(c)(2)(A).

62. The campaign ceilings contained in § 608(c) would have required a reduction in the scope of a number of previous congressional campaigns and substantially limited the overall expenditures of the two major-party Presidential candidates in 1972. See n. 21, supra.

63. This normal relationship may not apply where the candidate devotes a large amount of his personal resources to his campaign.

64. As an opinion dissenting in part from the decision below noted: "If a senatorial candidate can raise $1 from each voter, what evil is exacerbated by allowing that candidate to use all that money for political communication? I know of none." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 268, 519 F.2d, at 917 (Tamm, J.)

65. For the reasons discussed in Part III, infra, Congress may engage in public financing of election campaigns and may condition acceptance of public funds on an agreement by the candidate to abide by specified expenditure limitations. Just as a candidate may voluntarily limit the size of the contributions he chooses to accept, he may decide to forgo private fundraising and accept public funding.

66. Subtitle H of the Internal Revenue Code also established separate limitations for general election expenditures by national and state committees of political parties, § 608(f), and for national political party conventions for the nomination of Presidential candidates. 26 U.S.C. § 9008(d). Appellants do not challenge these ceilings on First Amendment grounds. Instead, they contend that the provisions discriminate against independent candidates and regional political parties without national committees because they permit additional spending by political parties with national committees. Our decision today holding § 608(e)(1)'s independent expenditure limitation unconstitutional and § 608(c)'s campaign expenditure ceilings unconstitutional removes the predicate for appellants' discrimination claim by eliminating any alleged advantage to political parties with national committees.

67. Accordingly, the answers to the certified constitutional questions pertaining to the Act's contribution and expenditure limitations are as follows:

3. Does any statutory limitation, or do the particular limitations in the challenged statutes, on the amounts that individuals or organizations may contribute or expend in connection with elections for federal office violate the rights of one or more of the plaintiffs under the First, Fifth, or Ninth Amendment or the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution of the United States?

(a) Does 18 U.S.C. § 608(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it forbids a candidate or the members of his immediate family from expending personal funds in excess of the amounts specified in 18 U.S.C. § 608(a)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV)?

Answer: YES.

(b) Does 18 U.S.C. § 608(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it forbids the solicitation, receipt or making of contributions on behalf of political candidates in excess of the amounts specified in 18 U.S.C. § 608(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV)?

Answer: NO.

(c) Do 18 U.S.C. §§ 591(e) and 608(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that they limit the incidental expenses which volunteers working on behalf of political candidates may incur to the amounts specified in 18 U.S.C. §§ 591(e) and 608(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV)?

Answer: NO.

(d) Does 18 U.S.C. § 608(e) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it limits to $1,000 the independent (not on behalf of a candidate) expenditures of any person relative to an identified candidate?

Answer: YES.

(e) Does 18 U.S.C. § 608(f) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it limits the expenditures of national or state committees of political parties in connection with general election campaigns for federal office?

Answer: NO, as to the Fifth Amendment challenge advanced by appellants.

(f) Does § 9008 of the Internal Revenue Code of 1954 violate such rights, in that it limits the expenditures of the national committee of a party with respect to presidential nominating conventions?

Answer: NO, as to the Fifth Amendment challenge advanced by appellants.

(h) Does 18 U.S.C. § 608(b)(2) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it excludes from the definition of "political committee" committees registered for less than the period of time prescribed in the statute?

Answer: NO.

4. Does any statutory limitation, or do the particular limitations in the challenged statutes, on the amounts that candidates for elected federal office may expend in their campaigns violate the rights of one or more of the plaintiffs under the First or Ninth Amendment or the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment?

(a) Does 18 U.S.C. § 608(c) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it forbids expenditures by candidates for federal office in excess of the amounts specified in 18 U.S.C. § 608(c) (1970 ed., Supp. IV)?

Answer: YES.

68. Unless otherwise indicated, all statutory citations in Part II of this opinion are to Title 2 of the United States Code, 1970 edition, Supplement IV.

69. Appellants do contend that there should be a blanket exemption from the disclosure provisions for minor parties. See Part II-B-2, infra.

70. The Court of Appeals' ruling that § 437a is unconstitutional was not appealed. See n. 7, supra.

71. Past disclosure laws were relatively easy to circumvent because candidates were required to report only contributions that they had received themselves or that were received by others for them with their knowledge or consent. § 307, 43 Stat. 1072. The data that were reported were virtually impossible to use because there were no uniform rules for the compiling of reports or provisions for requiring corrections and additions. See Redish, Campaign Spending Laws and the First Amendment, 46 N.Y.U.L.Rev. 900, 905 (1971).

72. See Part I, supra. The relevant provisions of Title 2 are set forth in the Appendix to this opinion, infra, at 144 et seq.

73. NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U.S., at 463, 78 S.Ct., at 1172. See also Gibson v. Florida Legislative Comm., 372 U.S. 539, 546, 83 S.Ct. 889, 893, 9 L.Ed.2d 929 (1963); NAACP v. Button, 371 U.S., at 438, 83 S.Ct., at 340; Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U.S., at 524, 80 S.Ct., at 417.

74. Id., at 525, 80 S.Ct., at 417.

75. Gibson v. Florida Legislative Comm., supra, 372 U.S., at 546, 83 S.Ct., at 893.

76. The Court of Appeals held that the applicable test for evaluating the Act's disclosure requirements is that adopted in United States v. O'Brien, 391 U.S. 367, 88 S.Ct. 1673, 20 L.Ed.2d 672 (1968), in which " 'speech' and 'nonspeech' elements (were) combined in the same course of conduct." Id., at 376, 88 S.Ct., at 1678. O'Brien is appropriate, the Court of Appeals found, because the Act is directed toward the spending of money, and money introduces a nonspeech element. As the discussion in Part I-A, supra, indicates, O'Brien is inapposite, for money is a neutral element not always associated with speech but a necessary and integral part of many, perhaps most, forms of communication. Moreover, the O'Brien test would not be met, even if it were applicable. O'Brien requires that "the governmental interest (be) unrelated to the suppression of free expression." Id., at 377, 88 S.Ct., at 1679. The governmental interest furthered by the disclosure requirements is not unrelated to the "suppression" of speech insofar as the requirements are designed to facilitate the detection of violations of the contribution and expenditure limitations set out in 18 U.S.C. § 608 (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

77. H.R.Rep. No. 92-564, p. 4 (1971).

78. Ibid.; S.Rep. No. 93-689, p. 2 (1974).

79. We have said elsewhere that "informed public opinion is the most potent of all restraints upon misgovernment." Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U.S. 233, 250, 56 S.Ct. 444, 449, 80 L.Ed. 660 (1936). Cf. United States v. Harriss, 347 U.S. 612, 625, 74 S.Ct. 808, 815, 98 L.Ed. 989 (1954) (upholding disclosure requirements imposed on lobbyists by the Federal Regulation of Lobbying Act, Title III of the Legislative Reorganization Act of 1946, 60 Stat. 839).

80. L. Brandeis, Other People's Money 62 (National Home Library Foundation ed. 1933).

81. See supra, at 60.

82. Post-election disclosure by successful candidates is suggested as a less restrictive way of preventing corrupt pressures on officeholders. Delayed disclosure of this sort would not serve the equally important informational function played by pre-election reporting. Moreover, the public interest in sources of campaign funds is likely to be at its peak during the campaign period; that is the time when improper influences are most likely to be brought to light.

83. Nor is this a case comparable to Pollard v. Roberts, 283 F.Supp. 248 (ED Ark.) (three-judge court), aff'd, 393 U.S. 14, 89 S.Ct. 47, 21 L.Ed.2d 14 (1968), in which an Arkansas prosecuting attorney sought to obtain, by a subpoena duces tecum, the records of a checking account (including names of individual contributors) established by a specific party, the Republican Party of Arkansas.

84. See Developments in the Law Elections, 88 Harv.L.Rev. 1111, 1247 n. 75 (1975).

85. See Williams v. Rhodes, 393 U.S. 23, 32, 89 S.Ct. 5, 11, 21 L.Ed.2d 24 (1968) ("There is, of course, no reason why two parties should retain a permanent monopoly on the right to have people vote for or against them. Competition in ideas and governmental policies is at the core of our electoral process and of the First Amendment freedoms"); Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U.S. 234, 250-251, 77 S.Ct. 1203, 1211-1212, 1 L.Ed.2d 1311 (1957) (plurality opinion).

86. Cf. Talley v. California, 362 U.S. 60, 64-65, 80 S.Ct. 536, 538-539, 4 L.Ed.2d 559 (1960).

87. Allegations made by a branch of the Socialist Workers Party in a civil action seeking to declare the District of Columbia disclosure and filing requirements unconstitutional as applied to its records were held to be sufficient to withstand a motion to dismiss in Doe v. Martin, 404 F.Supp. 753 (DC 1975) (three-judge court). The District of Columbia provisions require every political committee to keep records of contributions of $10 or more and to report contributors of $50 or more.

88. For example, a campaign worker who had solicited campaign funds for the Libertarian Party in New York testified that two persons solicited in a Party campaign "refused to contribute because they were unwilling for their names to be disclosed or published." None of the appellants offers stronger evidence of threats or harassment.

2. Blanket Exemption

89. These criteria were suggested in an opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part from the decision below. 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 258 n. 1, 519 F.2d, at 907 n. 1 (Bazelon, C. J.).

90. Age is also underinclusive in that it would presumably leave long-established but unpopular parties subject to the disclosure requirements. The Socialist Labor Party, which is not a party to this litigation but which has filed an amicus brief in support of appellants, claims to be able to offer evidence of "direct suppression, intimidation, harassment, physical abuse, and loss of economic sustenance" relating to its contributors. Brief for Socialist Labor Party as Amicus Curiae 6. The Party has been in existence since 1877.

91. 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 258 n. 1, 519 F.2d, at 907 n. 1 (Bazelon, C. J.).

92. Id., at 260, 519 F.2d, at 909. See also Developments in the Law Elections, 88 Harv.L.Rev. 1111, 1247-1249 (1975).

93. See Appendix to this opinion, infra, at 160.

94. See Part I-C-1, supra.

95. § 305, 86 Stat. 16.

96. 88 Stat. 1265.

97. S.Rep.No.92-229, p. 57 (1971).

98. See n. 71, supra.

2. Vagueness Problems

99. Section 441(a) provides: "Any person who violates any of the provisions of this subchapter shall be fined not more than $1,000 or imprisoned not more than one year, or both."

100. § 431(e), (f). See Appendix to this opinion, infra, at 145-149.

101. See supra, at 61-63.

102. S.Rep.No.92-96, p. 33 (1971); S.Rep.No.93-689, pp. 1-2 (1974).

103. See n. 53, supra.

104. See Part I-C-1, supra.

105. Section 431(d) defines "political committee" as "any committee, club, association, or other group of persons which receives contributions or makes expenditures during a calendar year in an aggregate amount exceeding $1,000."

106. At least two lower courts, seeking to avoid questions of unconstitutionality, have construed the disclosure requirements imposed on "political committees" by § 434(a) to be nonapplicable to nonpartisan organizations. United States v. National Comm. for Impeachment, 469 F.2d, at 1139-1142, American Civil Liberties Union v. Jennings, 366 F.Supp., at 1055-1057. See also 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 214 n.112, 519 F.2d, at 863 n. 112.

107. Some partisan committees groups within the control of the candidate or primarily organized for political activities will fall within § 434(e) because their contributions and expenditures fall in the $100-to-$1,000 range. Groups of this sort that do not have contributions and expenditures over $1,000 are not "political committees" within the definition in § 431(d); those whose transactions are not as great as $100 are not required to file statements under § 434(e).

108. See n. 52, supra.

109. Of course, independent contributions and expenditures made in support of the campaigns of candidates of parties that have been found to be exempt from the general disclosure requirements because of the possibility of consequent chill and harassment would be exempt from the requirements of § 434(e).

110. See supra, at 61-63.

111. "Looked at by itself without regard to the necessity behind it the line or point seems arbitrary. It might as well or nearly as well be a little more to one side or the other. But when it is seen that a line or point there must be, and that there is no mathematical or logical way of fixing it precisely, the decision of the legislature must be accepted unless we can say that it is very wide of any reasonable mark." Louisville Gas Co. v. Coleman, 277 U.S. 32, 41, 48 S.Ct. 423, 426, 72 L.Ed. 770 (1928) (Holmes, J., dissenting).

112. Appellants' final argument is directed against § 434(d), which exempts from the reporting requirements certain "photographic, matting, or recording services" furnished to Congressmen in nonelection years. See Appendix to this opinion, infra, at 159. Although we are troubled by the considerable advantages that this exemption appears to give to incumbents, we agree with the Court of Appeals that, in the absence of record evidence of misuse or undue discriminatory impact, this provision represents a reasonable accommodation between the legitimate and necessary efforts of legislators to communicate with their constituents and activities designed to win elections by legislators in their other role as politicians.

113. Accordingly, we respond to the certified questions, as follows:

7. Do the particular requirements in the challenged statutes that persons disclose the amounts that they contribute or expend in connection with elections for federal office or that candidates for such office disclose the amounts that they expend in their campaigns violate the rights of one or more of the plaintiffs under the First, Fourth or Ninth Amendment or the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment?

(a) Do 2 U.S.C. §§ 432(b), (c), and (d) and 438(a)(8) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that they provide, through auditing procedures, for the Federal Election Commission to inspect lists and records required to be kept by political committees of individuals who contribute more than $10?

Answer: NO.

(b) Does 2 U.S.C. §§ 434(b)(1)-(8) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it requires political committees to register and disclose the names, occupations, and principal places of business (if any) of those of their contributors who contribute in excess of $100?

Answer: NO.

(c) Does 2 U.S.C. § 434(d) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it neither requires disclosure of nor treats as contribution to or expenditure by incumbent officeholders the resources enumerated in 2 U.S.C. § 434(d) (1970 ed., Supp. IV)?

Answer: NO.

(d) Does 2 U.S.C. § 434(e) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it provides that every person contributing or expending more than $100 other than by contribution to a political committee or candidate (including volunteers with incidental expenses in excess of $600) must make disclosure to the Federal Election Commission?

Answer: NO.

114. The Presidential Election Campaign Fund Act of 1966, Title IV of Pub.L. 89-909, §§ 301-305, 80 Stat. 1587, was the first such provision. This Act also initiated the dollar check-off provision now contained in 26 U.S.C. § 6096 (1970 ed., Supp. IV). The Act was suspended, however, by a 1967 provision barring any appropriations until Congress adopted guidelines for the distribution of money from the Fund. Pub.L. 90-26, § 5, 81 Stat. 58. In 1971 Congress added Subtitle H to the Internal Revenue Code. Pub.L. 92-178, § 801, 85 Stat. 562. Chapter 95 thereof provided public financing of general election campaigns for President; this legislation was to become effective for the 1976 election and is substantially the same as the present scheme. Congress later amended the dollar check-off provision, deleting the taxpayers' option to designate specific parties as recipients of their money. Pub.L. 93-53, § 6, 87 Stat. 138. Finally, the 1974 amendments added to Chapter 95 provisions for financing nominating conventions and enacted a new Chapter 96 providing matching funds for campaigns in Presidential primaries. Pub.L. 93-443, §§ 403-408, 88 Stat. 1291.

115. Unless otherwise indicated all statutory citations in this Part III are to the Internal Revenue Code of 1954, Title 26 of the United States Code, 1970 edition, Supplement IV.

116. See n. 6, supra.

117. Priorities are established when the Fund is insufficient to satisfy all entitlements in any election year: the amount in the Fund is first allocated to convention funding, then to financing the general election, and finally to primary matching assistance. See §§ 9008(a), 9037(a). But the law does not specify how funds are to be allocated among recipients within these categories. Cf. § 9006(d).

118. Independent candidates might be excluded from general election funding by Chapter 95. See §§ 9002(2)(B), 9003(a), (c), 9004(a)(2), (c), 9005(a), 9006(c). Serious questions might arise as to the constitutionality of excluding from free annual assistance candidates not affiliated with a "political party" solely because they lack such affiliation. Storer v. Brown, 415 U.S. 724, 745-746, 94 S.Ct. 1274, 1286-1287, 39 L.Ed.2d 714 (1974). But we have no occasion to address that question in this case. The possibility of construing Chapter 95 as affording financial assistance to independent candidates was remarked by the Court of Appeals. 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 238, 519 F.2d, at 887. The only announced independent candidate for President before the Court former Senator McCarthy has publicly announced that he will refuse any public assistance. Moreover, he is affiliated with the Committee for a Constitutional Presidency McCarthy '76, and there is open the question whether it would qualify as a "political party" under Subtitle H.

119. No party to this case has challenged the constitutionality of this expenditure limit.

120. This amount is the same as the expenditure limit provided in 18 U.S.C. § 608(c)(1)(B) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). The Court of Appeals viewed the provisions as "complementary stratagems." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 201, 519 F.2d, at 850. Since the Court today holds § 608(c)(1) to be unconstitutional, the question of the severability of general election funding as now constituted arises. We hold that the provisions are severable for the reasons stated in Part III-C, infra.

121. No separate pledge is required from the candidate's party, but if the party organization is an "authorized committee" or "agent," expenditures by the party may be attributed to the candidate. 18 U.S.C. § 608(c)(2)(B) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). See § 608(b)(4)(A).

122. As with Chapter 95, any constitutional question that may arise from the exclusion of independent candidates from any assistance, such as funds to defray expenses of getting on state ballots by petition drives, need not be addressed in this case. See n. 118, supra.

123. As with general election funding, this limit is the same as the candidate expenditure limit of 18 U.S.C. § 608(c)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). See n. 120, supra, and Part III-C, infra.

124. The scheme involves no compulsion upon individuals to finance the dissemination of ideas with which they disagree. Lathrop v. Donohue, 367 U.S. 820, 871, 81 S.Ct. 1826, 1852, 6 L.Ed.2d 1191 (1961) (Black, J., dissenting); id., at 882, 81 S.Ct., at 1858 (Douglas, J., dissenting); Machinists v. Street, 367 U.S. 740, 778, 81 S.Ct. 1784, 1805, 6 L.Ed.2d 1141 (1961) (Douglas, J., concurring; d., at 788-792, 81 S.Ct., at 1809-1811 (Black, J., dissenting). The § 6096 check-off is simply the means by which Congress determines the amount of its appropriation.

125. Some proposals for public financing would give taxpayers the opportunity to designate the candidate or party to receive the dollar, and § 6096 initially offered this choice. See n. 114, supra. The voucher system proposed by Senator Metcalf, as amicus curiae here, also allows taxpayers this option. But Congress need not provide a mechanism for allowing taxpayers to designate the means in which their particular tax dollars are spent. See n. 124, supra. Further, insofar as these proposals are offered as less restrictive means, Congress had legitimate reasons for rejecting both. The designation option was criticized on privacy grounds, 119 Cong.Rec. 22598, 22396 (1973), and also because the identity of all candidates would not be known by April 15, the filing day for annual individual and joint tax returns. Senator Metcalf's proposal has also been criticized as possibly leading to black markets and to coercion to obtain vouchers and as administratively impractical.

126. Appellants voice concern that public funding will lead to governmental control of the internal affairs of political parties, and thus to a significant loss of political freedom. The concern is necessarily wholly speculative and hardly a basis for invalidation of the public financing scheme on its face. Congress has expressed its determination to avoid the possibility. S.Rep.No.93-689, pp. 9-10 (1974).

127. The historical bases of the Religion and Speech Clauses are markedly different. Intolerable persecutions throughout history led to the Framers' firm determination that religious worship both in method and belief must be strictly protected from government intervention. "Another purpose of the Establishment Clause rested upon an awareness of the historical fact that governmentally established religions and religious persecutions go hand in hand." Engel v. Vitale, 370 U.S. 421, 432, 82 S.Ct. 1261, 1267, 8 L.Ed.2d 601 (1962) (footnote omitted). See Everson v. Board of Education, 330 U.S. 1, 8-15, 67 S.Ct. 504, 507-511, 91 L.Ed. 711 (1947). But the central purpose of the Speech and Press Clauses was to assure a society in which "uninhibited, robust, and wide-open" public debate concerning matters of public interest would thrive, for only in such a society can a healthy representative democracy flourish. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 270, 84 S.Ct. 710, 720, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964). Legislation to enhance these First Amendment values is the rule, not the exception. Our statute books are replete with laws providing financial assistance to the exercise of free speech, such as aid to public broadcasting and other forms of educational media, 47 U.S.C. §§ 390-399, and preferential postal rates and antitrust exemptions for newspapers, 39 CFR § 132.2 (1975); 15 U.S.C. §§ 1801-1804.

128. Appellants maintain that denial of funding is a more severe restriction than denial of access to the ballot, because write-in candidates can win elections, but candidates without funds cannot. New parties will be unfinanced, however, only if they are unable to get private financial support, which presumably reflects a general lack of public support for the party. Public financing of some candidates does not make private fundraising for others any more difficult; indeed, the elimination of private contributions to major-party Presidential candidates might make more private money available to minority candidates.

129. Appellants dispute the relevance of this answer to their argument on the ground that they will not be able to raise money to equal major-party spending. As a practical matter, however, Subtitle H does not enhance the major parties' ability to campaign; it substitutes public funding for what the parties would raise privately and additionally imposes an expenditure limit. If a party cannot raise funds privately, there are legitimate reasons not to provide public funding, which would effectively facilitate hopeless candidacies.

130. Our only prior decision dealing with a system of public financing, American Party of Texas v. White, 415 U.S. 767, 94 S.Ct. 1296, 39 L.Ed.2d 744 (1974), also recognized that such provisions are less restrictive than regulation of ballot access. Texas required major parties there called "political parties" to nominate candidates by primaries, and the State reimbursed the parties for some of the expenses incurred in holding the primaries. But Texas did not subsidize other parties for the expenses involved in qualifying for the ballot, and this denial was claimed to be a denial of equal protection of the laws. We said that we were "unconvinced . . . that this financing law is an 'exclusionary mechanism' which 'tends to deny some voters the opportunity to vote for a candidate of their choosing' or that it has 'a real and appreciable impact on the exercise of the franchise.' " Id., 415 U.S., at 794, 94 S.Ct., at 1312, quoting from Bullock v. Carter, 405 U.S., at 144, 92 S.Ct., at 856. That the aid in American Party was provided to parties and not to candidates, as is most of the Subtitle H funding, is immaterial.

131. The allegations of invidious discrimination are based on the claim that Subtitle H is facially invalid; since the public financing provisions have never been in operation, appellants are unable to offer factual proof that the scheme is discriminatory in its effect. In rejecting appellants' arguments, we of course do not rule out the possibility of concluding in some future case, upon an appropriate factual demonstration, that the public financing system invidiously discriminates against nonmajor parties.

132. In 1912 Theodore Roosevelt ran as the candidate of the Progressive Party, which had split off from the Republican Party, and he received more votes than William H. Taft, the Republican candidate. But this third-party "threat" was short-lived; in 1916 the Progressives came back into the Republican Party when the party nominated Charles Evans Hughes as its candidate for the Presidency. With the exception of 1912, the major-party candidates have outpolled all others in every Presidential election since 1856.

133. Appellants suggest that a less discriminatory formula would be to grant full funding to the candidate of the party getting the most votes in the last election and then give money to candidates of other parties based on their showing in the last election relative to the "leading" party. That formula, however, might unfairly favor incumbents, since their major-party challengers would receive less financial assistance. See S.Rep.No.93-689, p. 10 (1974).

134. Appellants argue that this effort to "catch up" is hindered by the contribution limits in 18 U.S.C. § 608(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) and that therefore the public financing provisions are unconstitutional. Whatever merit the point may have, which is questionable on the basis of the record before the Court, it is answered in our treatment of the contribution limits. See Part I-B, supra.

135. There will, however, be no minor-party candidates in the 1976 Presidential election, since no 1972 candidate other than those of the major parties received 5% Of the popular vote.

136. Another suggested alternative is Senator Metcalf's voucher scheme, but we have previously mentioned problems presented by that device. See n. 125, supra. The United States suggests that a matching formula could be used for general election funding, as it is for funding primary campaigns, in order to relate current funding to current support more closely. Congress could readily have concluded, however, that the matching formula was inappropriate for the general election. The problems in determining the relative strength of candidates at the primaries stage of the campaign are far greater than after a candidate has obtained the nomination of a major party. See S.Rep.No.93-689, p. 6 (1974). It might be eminently reasonable, therefore, to employ a matching formula for primary elections related to popular support evidenced by numerous smaller contributions, yet inappropriate for general election financing as inconsistent with the congressional effort to remove the influence of private contributions and to relieve candidates of the burden of fundraising. Ibid.

137. Williams v. Rhodes, 393 U.S. 23, 31-32, 89 S.Ct. 5, 10-11, 21 L.Ed.2d 24 (1968); Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U.S. 234, 250-251, 77 S.Ct. 1203, 1211-1212, 1 L.Ed.2d 1311 (1957) (plurality opinion). Cf. Talley v. California, 362 U.S. 60, 64, 80 S.Ct. 536, 538, 4 L.Ed.2d 559 (1960).

138. Apart from the adjustment for inflation, and assuming a major-party entitlement of $20,000,000, a candidate getting 5% Of the popular vote, when the balance is divided between two major parties, would be entitled to a post-election payment of more than $2,100,000 if that sum remains after priority allocations from the fund.

139. It is also argued that Storer v. Brown, 415 U.S. 724, 94 S.Ct. 1274, 39 L.Ed.2d 714 (1974), is a better analogy than Jenness. In Storer a candidate could qualify for the ballot by obtaining the signatures of 5% Of the voters, but the signatures could not include any voters who voted for another candidate at the primary election. 415 U.S., at 739, 94 S.Ct., at 1283. The analogy, however, is no better than Jenness. The Chapter 95 formula is not more restrictive than that sustained in the two cases, since for the reasons stated earlier, supra, at 94-95, it burdens minority interests less than ballot-access regulations.

140. On similar grounds we sustain the 10-state requirement in § 9002(2). Success in Presidential elections depends on winning electoral votes in States, not solely popular votes, and the requirement is plainly not unreasonable in light of that fact.

2. Nominating Convention Financing

141. As with primary campaigns, Congress could reasonably determine that there was no need for reforms as to minor-party conventions. See, infra, at 105-106. This contribution limit applies to "contributions to any candidate," 18 U.S.C. § 608(b)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. IV), and thus would not govern gifts to a party for general purposes, such as convention funding. Although "contributions to a named candidate made to any political committee" are within § 608(b)(1) if the committee is authorized in writing by a candidate to accept contributions, § 608(b)(4)(A), contributions to a party not for the benefit of any specific candidate would apparently not be subject to the $1,000 ceiling. Moreover, § 608(b)(4)(A) governs only party organizations authorized by a candidate in writing to accept contributions.

3. Primary Election Campaign Financing

142. With respect to the denial of funds to candidates who may not be affiliated with a "political party" for the purposes of public financing, see n. 118, supra.

143. Appellants argue that this reasoning from Katzenbach v. Morgan, supra, is inapplicable to this case involving First Amendment guarantees. But the argument as to the denial of funds to certain candidates primarily claims invidious discrimination and hence presents Fifth Amendment questions, though with First Amendment overtones, as in Katzenbach v. Morgan.

144. Appellants contend that the 20-state requirement directly conflicts with Moore v. Ogilvie, 394 U.S. 814, 89 S.Ct. 1493, 23 L.Ed.2d 1 (1969), but that case is distinguishable. Only 7% Of the Illinois voters could have blocked a candidate from qualifying for the ballot, even though the statewide elections were decided by straight majority vote. The clear purpose was to keep any person from being nominated without support in downstate counties making up only 7% Of the vote, but those same voters could not come close to defeating a candidate in the general election. There is no similar restriction here on the opportunity to vote for any candidate, and the 20-state requirement is not an unreasonable method of measuring a candidate's breadth of support. See supra, at 103-105.

145. The fear that barriers would be reduced too much was one reason for rejecting a matching formula for the general election financing system. See n. 136, supra.

146. By offering a single hypothetical situation, appellants try to prove that the matching formula gives wealthy contributors an advantage. Taxpayers are entitled to a deduction from ordinary income for political contributions up to $100, or $200 on a joint return. § 218. Appellants note that a married couple in the 70% Tax bracket could give $500 to a candidate and claim the full deduction allowed by § 218, thus reducing their tax liability by $140. The matching funds increase the effective contribution to $1,000, and the total cost to the contributors is $360. But the appellants have disregarded a myriad of other possibilities. For example, taxpayers also have the option of claiming a tax credit up to $25, or $50 on a joint return, for one-half of their political contributions. § 41. Any married couple could give $100 to a candidate, claim the full $50 credit, and matching thus allows a contribution of $200 at a cost of only $50 to the contributors. Because this example and others involve greater subsidization 75% Against 64% Of smaller contributions than is involved in appellants' hypothesis, one cannot say that the matching formula unfairly favors wealthy interests or large contributors. Moreover, the effect noted by appellants diminishes as the size of individual contributions approaches $1,000.

Finally, these examples clearly reveal that §§ 41 and 218 afford public subsidies for candidates, but appellants have raised no constitutional challenge to the provisions, either on First or Fifth Amendment grounds.

147. Our responses to the certified constitutional questions pertaining to public financing of Presidential election campaigns are:

5. Does any statutory provision for the public financing of political conventions or campaigns for nomination or election to the Presidency or Vice Presidency violate the rights of one or more of the plaintiffs under the First or Ninth Amendment, the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment, or Article I, Section 8, Clause 1, of the Constitution of the United States?

Answer: NO.

6. Do the particular provisions of Subtitle H and § 6096 of the Internal Revenue Code of 1954 deprive one or more of the plaintiffs of such rights under the First or Ninth Amendment or Article 1, Section 8, Clause 1, in that they provide federal tax money to support certain political candidates, parties, movements, and organizations or in the manner that they so provide such federal tax money?

Answer: NO.

148. Unless otherwise indicated, all statutory citations in Part IV are to Title 2 of the United States Code, 1970 edition, Supplement IV, the relevant provisions of which are set forth in the Appendix to this opinion, infra, at 144-180.

149. In administering Chapters 95 and 96 of Title 26, which provide for funding of Presidential election and primary campaigns, respectively, the Commission is empowered, inter alia, "to prescribe such rules and regulations . . . as it deems necessary to carry out the functions and duties imposed on it" by each chapter. 26 U.S.C. § 9009(b). See also 26 U.S.C. § 9039(b) (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

150. The sections from Title 18, incorporated by reference into several of the provisions relating to the Commission's powers, were either enacted or amended by the 1971 Act or the 1974 amendments. They are codified at 18 U.S.C. §§ 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, and 617 (1970 ed., Supp. IV) (hereinafter referred to as Title 18 sections).

151. Section 437c(b) also provides, somewhat redundantly, that the Commission "shall administer, seek to obtain compliance with, and formulate policy with respect to this Act" and the Title 18 sections.

152. The Commission is charged with the duty under each Act to receive and pass upon requests by eligible candidates for campaign money and certify them to the Secretary of the Treasury for the latter's disbursement from the Fund. See 26 U.S.C. §§ 9003-9007, 9033-9038 (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

153. This conclusion seems to follow from the manner in which the subsections of § 437g interrelate. Any person may file, and the

Clerk of the House or the Secretary of the Senate shall refer, believed or apparent civil or criminal violations to the Commission. Upon receipt of a complaint or referral, as the case may be, the Commission is directed to notify the person involved and to report the violation to the Attorney General or to make an investigation. § 437g(a)(2). The Commission shall conduct a hearing at that person's request. § 437g(a)(4). If after its investigation the Commission "determines . . . that there is reason to believe" that a "violation of this Act," i. e., a civil violation, has occurred or is about to occur, it "may endeavor to correct such violation by informal methods," failing which, the Commission "may institute a civil action for relief." § 437g(a)(5). Finally, paragraph (6) provides as follows:

"The Commission shall refer apparent violations to the appropriate law enforcement authorities to the extent that violations of provisions of chapter 29 of Title 18 are involved, or if the Commission is unable to correct apparent violations of this Act under the authority given it by paragraph (5), or if the Commission determines that any such referral is appropriate." § 437g(a)(6) (emphasis added).

While it is clear that the Commission has a duty to refer apparent criminal violations either upon their initial receipt or after an investigation, it would appear at the very least that the Commission, which has "primary jurisdiction" with respect to civil enforcement, § 437c(b), has the sole discretionary power "to determine" whether or not a civil violation has occurred or is about to occur, and consequently whether or not informal or judicial remedies will be pursued.

154. Such a finding is subject to judicial review under the Administrative Procedure Act, 5 U.S.C. § 701 et seq.

155. § 437c(a)(1), set forth in the Appendix to this opinion, infra, at 161-162.

156. § 437c(a)(1)(A).

157. The Court of Appeals, following the sequence of the certified questions, adopted a piecemeal approach to the six questions, reproduced below, concerning the method of appointment and powers of the Commission. Its basic holding, in answer to question 8(a), was that "Congress has the constitutional authority to establish and appoint (the Commission) to carry out appropriate legislative functions." 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 241, 519 F.2d, at 890. Appellants' claim, embodied in questions 8(b) through 8(f), that the Commission's powers go well beyond "legislative functions" and are facially invalid was in an overarching sense not ripe, since "(w)hether particular powers are predominantly executive or judicial, or insufficiently related to the exercise of appropriate legislative power is an abstract question . . . better decided in the context of a particular factual controversy." Id., at 243, 519 F.2d, at 892. While some of the statutory grants such as civil enforcement and candidate disqualification powers (questions 8(c) and 8(e)) raised, in the court's view, "very serious constitutional questions," only the power of the Commission to issue advisory opinions under § 437f(a) was ripe in the context of an attack on Congress' method of appointment. Even then, beyond the Commission's power to inform the public of its interpretations, the question whether Congress under § 437f(b) could validly give substantive effect to the Commission's opinions in later civil and criminal enforcement proceedings should, the Court of Appeals held, await a case in which a defense based on § 437f(b) was asserted. Finally, the question of the Commission's power under 26 U.S.C. § 9008(d)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) to authorize nominating convention expenditures in excess of the statutory limits (question 8(f)) was found ripe because appellants had not challenged it in relation to the method of appointment but had asserted only that 26 U.S.C. § 9008(d)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) sted excessive discretion in the Commission. The Court of Appeals found th at Congress had provided sufficient guidelines to withstand that attack.

The Court of Appeals accordingly answered the six certified questions as follows:

"8. Do the provisions in the challenged statutes concerning the powers and method of appointment of the Federal Election Com-

mission violate the rights of one or more of the plaintiffs under the constitutional separation of powers, the First, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, or Ninth Amendment, Article I, Section 2, Clause 6, Article I, Section 5, Clause 1, or Article III?

"(a) Does 2 U.S.C. § 437c(a) violate such rights by the method of appointment of the Federal Election Commission? . . .

"Answer: NO

"(b) Do 2 U.S.C. §§ 437d and 437g violate such rights, in that they entrust administration and enforcement of the FECA to the Federal Election Commission? . . .

"Answer: NO as to the power to issue advisory opinions; UNRIPE as to all else.

"(c) Does 2 U.S.C. § 437g(a) violate such rights, in that it empowers the Federal Election Commission and the Attorney General to bring civil actions (including proceedings for injunctions) against any person who has engaged or who may engage in acts or practices which violate the Federal Election Campaign Act, as amended, or §§ 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18? . . .

"Answer: UNRIPE FOR RESOLUTION

"(d) Does 2 U.S.C. § 438(c) violate such rights, in that it empowers the Federal Election Commission to make rules under FECA in the manner specified therein? . . .

"Answer: UNRIPE FOR RESOLUTION

"(e) Does 2 U.S.C. § 456 violate such rights, in that it imposes a temporary disqualification on any candidate for election to federal office who is found by the Federal Election Commission to have failed to file a report required by Title III of the Federal Election Campaign Act, as amended ? . . .

"Answer: UNRIPE FOR RESOLUTION

"(f) Does § 9008 of the Internal Revenue Code of 1954 violate such rights, in that it empowers the Federal Election Commission to authorize expenditures of the national committee of a party with respect to presidential nominating conventions in excess of the limits enumerated therein? . . .

"Answer: NO"

158. With respect to the Commission's power under 26 U.S.C. § 9008(d)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) to authorize excessive convention expenditures (question 8(f)), the fact that appellants in the Court of Appeals may have focused their attack primarily or even exclusively upon the asserted lack of standards attendant to that power, see n. 157, supra, does not foreclose them from challenging that power in relation to Congress' method of appointment of the Commission's members. Question 8(f) asks whether vesting the Commission with this power under 26 U.S.C. § 9008 (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violates "such rights," which by reference to question 8 includes "the rights of (appellants) under the constitutional separation of powers." Since the certified questions themselves provide our jurisdictional framework, § 437h(b), the separation-of-powers aspect of appellants' attack on 26 U.S.C. § 9008(d)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) is properly before this Court.

159. The Federalist No. 47, p. 299 (G. P. Putnam's Sons ed. 1908).

160. Id., at 302-303 (emphasis in original).

161. The Federalist No. 51, pp. 323-324 (G.P. Putnam's Sons ed. 1908).

162. "Officers of the United States" does not include all employees of the United States, but there is no claim made that the Commissioners are employees of the United States rather than officers. Employees are lesser functionaries subordinate to officers of the United States, see Auffmordt v. Hedden, 137 U.S. 310, 327, 11 S.Ct. 103, 108, 34 L.Ed. 674 (1890); United States v. Germaine, 99 U.S. 508, 25 L.Ed. 482 (18979), whereas the Commissioners, appointed for a statutory term, are not subject to the control or direction of any other executive, judicial, or legislative authority.

163. Rule II of the Rules of the House of Representatives, the earliest form of which was adopted in 1789, provides for the election by the House, at the commencement of each Congress, of a Clerk, Sergeant at Arms, Doorkeeper, Postmaster, and Chaplain, each of whom in turn is given appointment power over the employees of his department. Jefferson's Manual and Rules of the House of Representatives §§ 635-636. While there is apparently no equivalent rule on the Senate side, one of the first orders of business at the first session of the Senate, April 1789, was to elect a Secretary and a Doorkeeper. Senate Journal 10 (1st & 2d Congress 1789-1793).

164. 2 U.S.C. § 60-1(b).

165. Appellee Commission has relied for analogous support on the existence of the Comptroller General, who as a "legislative officer" had significant duties under the 1971 Act. § 308, 86 Stat. 16. But irrespective of Congress' designation, cf. 31 U.S.C. § 65(d), the Comptroller General is appointed by the President in conformity with the Appointments Clause. 31 U.S.C. § 42.

166. 2 M. Farrand, The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, pp. 74, 76 (1911); The Federalist No. 48, pp. 308-310 (G. P. Putnam's Sons ed. 1908) (J. Madison); The Federalist No. 71, pp. 447-448 (G. P. Putnam's Sons ed. 1908) (A. Hamilton). See generally Watson, Congress Steps Out: A Look at Congressional Control of the Executive, 63 Calif.L.Rev. 983, 1029-1048 (1975).

167. J. Madison, Notes of Debates in the Federal Convention of 1787, p. 385 (Ohio Univ. Press ed. 1966).

168. Id., at 472 (emphasis added).

169. "Col. Mason in opposition to Mr. Read's motion desired it might be considered to whom the money would belong; if to the people, the legislature representing the people ought to appoint the keepers of it." Ibid.

170. Id., at 521.

171. Id., at 527.

172. Id., at 571-573.

173. Id., at 575.

174. "The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and Representatives, shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof; but the Congress may at any time by Law make or alter such Regulations, except as to the Places of chusing Senators."

175. Since in future legislation that may be enacted in response to today's decision Congress might choose not to confer one or more of the powers under discussion to a properly appointed agency, our assumption is arguendo only. Considerations of ripeness prevent us from deciding, for example, whether such an agency could under § 456 disqualify a candidate for federal election consistently with Art. I, § 5, cl. 1. With respect to this and other powers discussed infra, this page and 138-141, we need pass only upon their nature in relation to the Appointments Clause, and not upon their validity vel non.

176. Before a rule or regulation promulgated by the Commission under § 438(a) (10) may go into effect, it must be transmitted either to the Senate or House of Representatives together with "a detailed explanation and justification of such rule or regulation." § 438(c)(1). If the House of Congress to which the rule is required to be transmitted disapproves the proposed regulation within the specified period of time, it may not be promulgated by the Commission. Appellants make a separate attack on this qualification of the Commission's rulemaking authority, which is but the most recent episode in a long tug of war between the Executive and Legislative Branches of the Federal Government respecting the permissible extent of legislative involvement in rulemaking under statutes which have already been enacted. The history of these episodes is described in Ginnane, The Control of Federal Administration by Congressional Resolutions and Committees, 66 Harv.L.Rev. 569 (1953); in Newman & Keaton, Congress and the Faithful Execution of Laws Should Legislators Supervise Administrators?, 41 Cal.L.Rev. 565 (1953); and in Watson, Congress Steps Out: A Look at Congressional Control of the Executive, 63 Cal.L.Rev. 983 (1975). Because of our holding that the manner of appointment of the members of the Commission precludes them from exercising the rulemaking powers in question, we have no occasion to address this separate challenge of appellants.

177. The subsidiary questions certified by the District Court relating to the composition of the Federal Election Commission, together with our answers thereto, are as follows:

Question 8(a). Does 2 U.S.C. § 437c(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate (the rights of one or more of the plaintiffs under the constitutional separation of powers, the First, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, or Ninth Amendment, Art. I, § 2, cl. 6, Art. I, § 5, cl. 1, or Art. III) by the method of appointment of the Federal Election Commission?

With respect to the powers referred to in Questions 8(b)-8(f), the method of appointment violates Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, of the Constitution.

Question 8(b). Do 2 U.S.C. §§ 437d and 437g (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that they entrust administration and enforcement of the FECA to the Federal Election Commission?

Question 8(c). Does 2 U.S.C. § 437g(a) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it empowers the Federal Election Commission and the Attorney General to bring civil action (including proceedings for injunctions) against any person who has engaged or who may engage in acts or practices which violate the Federal Election Campaign Act, as amended, or §§ 608, 610, 611, 613, 614, 615, 616, or 617 of Title 18 (1970 ed., Supp. IV)?

Question 8(d). Does 2 U.S.C. § 438(c) (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights in that it empowers the Federal Election Commission to make rules under the FECA in the manner specified therein?

Question 8(e). Does 2 U.S.C. § 456 (1970 ed., Supp. IV) violate such rights, in that it imposes a temporary disqualification on any candidate for election to federal office who is found by the Federal Election Commission to have failed to file a report required by Title III of the Federal Election Campaign Act, as amended ?

Question 8(f). Does § 9008 of the Internal Revenue Code of 1954 violate such rights, in that it empowers the Federal Election Commission to authorize expenditures of the national committee of a party with respect to Presidential nominating conventions in excess of the limits enumerated therein?

The Federal Election Commission as presently constituted may not under Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, of the Constitution exercise the powers referred to in Questions 8(b)-8(f).

178. We have not set forth specific answers to some of the certified questions. Question 9, dealing with alleged vagueness in several provisions, 171 U.S.App.D.C., at 252, 519 F.2d, at 901 (Appendix A), is resolved in the opinion to the extent urged by the parties. We need not respond to questions 3(g), 3(i), 4(b), and 7(f), id., at 250-251, 519 F.2d, at 899-900 (Appendix A), to resolve the issues presented.

* Based upon Federal Election Campaign Laws, compiled by the Senate Library for the Subcommittee on Privileges and Elections of the Senate Committee on Rules and Administration (1975).

1. So in original.

1. The particular verbalization has varied from case to case. First Amendment analysis defies capture in a single, easy phrase. The basic point of our inquiry, however expressed, is to determine whether the Government has sought to achieve admittedly important goals by means which demonstrably curtail our liberties to an unnecessary extent.

2. The 1910 legislation required disclosure of the names of recipients of expenditures in excess of $10.

3. Ironically, the Court seems to recognize this principle when dealing with the limitations on contributions. Ante, at 25.

4. The record does not show systematic harassment of the sort involved in NAACP v. Alabama, 357 U.S. 449, 78 S.Ct. 1163, 2 L.Ed.2d 1488 (1958). But uncontradicted evidence was adduced with respect to actual experiences of minor parties indicating a sensitivity on the part of potential contributors to the prospect of disclosure. See, e. g., District Court findings of fact, affidavits of Wertheimer (P 6) and Reed (P 8), 2B App. 736, 742. This evidence suffices when the governmental interest in putting the spotlight on the sources of support for minor parties or splinter groups is so tenuous.

5. The Court notes that 94.9% Of the funds raised by congressional candidates in 1974 came in contributions of less than $1,000, ante, at 26 n. 27, and suggests that the effect of the contribution limitations will be minimal. This logic ignores the disproportionate influence large contributions may have when they are made early in a campaign; "seed money" can be essential, and the inability to obtain it may effectively end some candidacies before they begin. Appellants have excerpted from the record data on nine campaigns to which large, initial contributions were critical. Brief for Appellants 132-138. Campaigns such as these will be much harder, and perhaps impossible, to mount under the Act.

6. Whatever the effect of the limitation, it is clearly arbitrary Congress has imposed the same ceiling on contributions to a New York or California senatorial campaign that it has put on House races in Alaska or Wyoming. Both the strength of support conveyed by the gift of $1,000 and the gift's potential for corruptly influencing the recipient will vary enormously from place to place. Seven Senators each spent from $1,000,000 to $1,300,000 in their successful 1974 election campaigns. A great many congressional candidates spent less than $25,000. 33 Cong. Quarterly 789-790 (1975). The same contribution ceiling would seem to apply to each of these campaigns. Congress accounted for these tremendous variations when it geared the expenditure limits to voting population; but it imposed a flat ceiling on contributions without focusing on the actual evil attacked or the actual harm the restrictions will work.

7. Suppose, for example, that a candidate's committee authorizes a celebrity or elder statesman to make a radio or television address on the candidate's behalf, for which the speaker himself plans to pay. As the Court recognizes, ante, at 24 n. 25, the Act defines this activity as a contribution and subjects it to the $1,000 limit on individual contributions and the $5,000 limit on contributions by political committees effectively preventing the speech over any substantial radio or television station. Whether the speech is considered an impermissible "contribution" or an allowable "expenditure" turns, not on whether speech by "someone other than the contributor" is involved, but on whether the speech is "authorized" or not. The contribution limitations directly restrict speech by the contributor himself. Of course, this restraint can be "avoided" if the speaker makes his address without consulting the candidate or his agents. Elsewhere I suggest that the distinction between "independent" and "authorized" political activity is unrealistic and simply cannot be maintained. For present purposes I wish only to emphasize that the Act directly restricts, as a "contribution," what is clearly speech by the "contributor" himself.

8. The Court treats the Act's provisions limiting a candidate's spending from his personal resources as expenditure limits, as indeed the Act characterizes them, and holds them unconstitutional. As Mr. Justice MARSHALL points out, infra, at 287, by the Court's logic these provisions could as easily be treated as limits on contributions, since they limit what the candidate can give to his own campaign.

9. Candidates who must raise large initial contributions in order to appeal for more funds to a broader audience will be handicapped. See n. 5, supra. It is not enough to say that the contribution ceilings "merely . . . require candidates . . . to raise funds from a greater number of persons," ante, at 22, where the limitations will effectively prevent candidates without substantial personal resources from doing just that.

10. Under the Court's holding, candidates with personal fortunes will be free to contribute to their own campaigns as much as they like, since the Court chooses to view the Act's provisions in this regard as unconstitutional "expenditure" limitations rather than "contribution" limitations. See n. 8, supra.

11. 113 Cong.Rec. 12165 (1967).

12. Brief for Appellee Attorney General and for United States as Amicus Curiae 93.

13. Id., at 94.

14. Id., at 93.

15. Such considerations have never before influenced the Court's evaluation of the risks of restraints on expression.

16. The Court's opinion demonstrates one such intrusion. While the Court finds that the Act's expenditure limitations unconstitutionally inhibit a candidate's or a party's First Amendment rights, it imposes, by invoking the severability cause of Subtitle H, such limitations on qualifying for public funds.

17. See, e. g., 26 U.S.C. §§ 9003, 9007, 9033, 9038 (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

18. Cf. Terry v. Adams, 345 U.S. 461, 73 S.Ct. 809, 97 L.Ed. 1152 (1953); Smith v. Allwright, 321 U.S. 649, 64 S.Ct. 757, 88 L.Ed. 987 (1944).

19. See generally remarks of Senator Gore, 112 Cong.Rec. 28783 (1966).

20. The problem is considered only in the limited context of Subtitle H.

21. Section 454 provides that if a "provision" is invalid, the entire Act will not be deemed invalid. More than a provision, more than a few provisions, have been held invalid today. Section 454 probably does not even reach such extensive invalidation.

1. That is, if the FEC were properly constituted, I would answer questions 8(b), 8(c), 8(d) (see infra, at 282-286), and 8(f) in the negative. With respect to questions 8(e), I reserve judgment on the validity of 2 U.S.C. § 456 (1970 ed., Supp. IV) which empowers the FEC to disqualify a candidate for failure to file certain reports. Of course, to the extent that the Court invalidates the expenditure limitations of the FECA, Part I-C, ante, at 39-59, the FEC, however, appointed, would be powerless to enforce those provisions.

Unless otherwise indicated, all statutory citations in this part of the opinion are to the Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971, §§ 301-311, 86 Stat. 11, as amended by the Federal Election Campaign Act Amendments of 1974, §§ 201-407, 88 Stat. 1272, 2 U.S.C. § 431 et seq. (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

2. References to the "Commissioners," the "FEC," or its "members" do not include these two ex officio members.

3. U.S. Const., Art. II, § 2, cl. 2.

4. Id., Art. I, §§ 2, 3, and the Seventeenth Amendment.

5. "The House of Representatives shall chuse their Speaker and other Officers . . . ." U.S. Const., Art. I, § 2, cl. 5.

"The Vice President of the United States shall be President of the Senate, but . . . (t)he Senate shall chuse their other Officers, and also a President pro tempore, in the Absence of the Vice President, or when he shall exercise the Office of President of the United States." § 3, cls. 4, 5.

6. The distinction appears ante, at 126 n. 162.

7. Indeed the FEC attacks as "erroneous" appellants' statement that the Court of Appeals ruled that "the FEC commissioners are not officers of the United States. Rather, it held that the grant of power to the President to appoint civil officers of the United States is not to be read as preclusive of Congressional authority to appoint such officers to aid in the discharge of Congressional responsibilities." Brief for Appellee Federal Election Commission 16 n. 19 (hereafter FEC Brief).

8. How Congress may both appoint officers itself and condition appointment of the President's nominees on confirmation by a majority of both Houses of Congress is not explained.

9. Watson, Congress Steps Out: A Look at Congressional Control of the Executive, 63 Calif.L.Rev. 983, 1042-1043 (1975).

10. U.S. Const., Art. I, § 6, cl. 2, provides in part:

"(N)o Person holding any Office under the United States, shall be a Member of either House during his Continuance in Office."

See 1 M. Farrand, The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, pp. 379-382 (1911) (hereafter Farrand); 2 Farrand 483.

11. 1 Farrand 20.

12. Id., at 210-211, 217, 219, 221, 222, 370, 375-377, 379-382, 383, 384, 419, 429, 435; 2 Farrand 180.

13. Id., at 487. As ratified, the Ineligibility Clause provides:

"No Senator or Representative shall, during the Time for which he was elected, be appointed to any civil Office under the Authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the Emoluments whereof shall have been increased during such time . . . ." U.S. Const., Art. I, § 6, cl. 2.

14. 1 Farrand 116, 120, 224, 233; 2 Farrand 37-38, 41-44, 71-72, 116, 138.

15. 1 Farrand 63, 67.

16. Id., at 21-22.

17. Id., at 224, 233.

18. 2 Farrand 183, 383, 394.

19. Id., at 533.

20. Id., at 627.

21. C. Warren, The Making of the Constitution 641-642 (1947).

22. § 437d(a)(9).

23. § 437c(b).

24. Section 437g(a)(7) provides:

"Whenever in the judgment of the Commission, after affording due notice and an opportunity for a hearing, any person has engaged or is about to engage in any acts or practices which constitute or will constitute a violation of any (relevant) provision . . . upon request by the Commission the Attorney General on behalf of the United States shall institute a civil action for relief . . . ." (Emphasis supplied.)

The FEC argues that " 'there is no showing in this case of a convincing legislative history that would enable us to conclude that "shall" was intended to be the "language of command." ' " FEC Brief 62 n. 52, quoting 171 U.S.App.D.C. 172, 244 n. 191, 519 F.2d 821, 893 n. 191 (1975). The contention is that the FEC's enforcement power is not exclusive, because the Attorney General retains the traditional discretion to decline to institute legal proceedings. However this may be, the FEC's civil enforcement responsibilities are substantial. Moreover it is authorized under 26 U.S.C. §§ 9010, 9040 (1970 ed., Supp. IV), to appear in and to defend actions brought in the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit under §§ 9011, 9041, to review the FEC's actions under Chapters 95 and 96 of Title 26, and to appear in district court to seek recovery of amounts repayable to the Treasury under §§ 9007, 9008, 9038.

25. Although the FEC resists appellants' attack on its position that it has "no general substantive rulemaking authority with regard to Title 18 spending and contribution limitations" (FEC Brief 49), it agrees "that there is inevitably some interplay between Title 2 and Title 18." (Id., at 55). It seeks to minimize the importance of the interplay by noting that its definitions of what is to be disclosed and reported would not be binding in judicial proceedings to determine whether substantive provisions of the Act had been violated, but would simply be extended a measure of deference as administrative interpretations. Appellants' reply is the practical one that, whether the FEC's power is substantive or not, persons violating its regulations do so at their peril. To illustrate the extent to which the FEC's regulations implicate the provisions of Title 18, appellants point to the FEC's interim guidelines for the New Hampshire and Tennessee special elections, 40 Fed.Reg. 40668, 43660 (1975), and its regulations, rejected by the Senate, providing that funds contributed to and expended from the "office accounts" of Members of Congress were contributions or expenditures "subject to the limitations of 18 U.S.C. §§ 608, 610, 611, 613, 614 and 615." See notice of proposed rulemaking, id., at 32951. Unless the FEC's regulations are to be given no weight in criminal proceedings, it seems plain that through those regulations the FEC will have a significant role in the implementation and enforcement of criminal statutes.

26. The FEC itself cannot fashion coercive relief by, for example, issuing cease-and-desist orders. To obtain such relief it must apply to the courts itself or through the Attorney General.

27. The same preconditions are imposed with respect to regulations issued under the public financing provisions of the election laws. 26 U.S.C. §§ 9009 and 9039 (1970 ed., Supp. IV). No such requirement appears to exist with respect to the FEC's power to make "policy" with respect to the enforcement of the criminal provisions in Title 18 or with respect to any power it may have to issue rules and regulations dealing with the civil enforcement of those provisions. See also § 439a.

28. Section 438(c)(4) defines "legislative day." See also 26 U.S.C. §§ 9009(c)(3), 9039(c)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV).

29. U.S. Const., Art. I, § 7, cl. 3.

30. Surely the challengers to the provision for congressional disapproval do not mean to suggest that the FEC's regulations must become effective despite the disapproval of one House or the other. Disapproval nullifies the suggested regulation and prevents the occurrence of any change in the law. The regulation is void. Nothing remains on which the veto power could operate. It is as though a bill passed in one House and failed in another.

31. The Federalist No. 73, pp. 468-469 (Wright ed. 1961).

1. "In the Nation's seven largest States in 1970, 11 of the 15 major senatorial candidates were millionaires. The four who were not millionaires lost their bid for election." 117 Cong.Rec. 42065 (1971) (remarks of Rep. Macdonald).

2. Of course, § 608(b)'s enhancement of the wealthy candidate's natural advantage does not require its invalidation. As the Court demonstrates, § 608(b) is fully justified by the governmental interest in limiting the reality and appearance of corruption. Ante, at 26-29.

In addition to § 608(a), § 608(c), which limits overall candidate expenditures in a campaign, also provides a check on the advantage of the wealthy candidate. But we today invalidate that section, which unlike § 608(a) imposes a flat prohibition on candidate expenditures above a certain level, and which is less tailored to the interest in equalizing access than § 608(a). The effect of invalidating both § 608(c) and § 608(a) is to enable the wealthy candidate to spend his personal resources without limit, while his less wealthy opponent is forced to make do with whatever amount he can accumulate through relatively small contributions.

15.24 Federal Communications Commn. v. Pacifica Foundation 15.24 Federal Communications Commn. v. Pacifica Foundation

438 U.S. 726
98 S.Ct. 3026
57 L.Ed.2d 1073
FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, Petitioner,

v.

PACIFICA FOUNDATION.

No. 77-528.
Argued April 18, 19, 1978.
Decided July 3, 1978.
Rehearing Denied Oct. 2, 1978.

          See 439 U.S. 883, 99 S.Ct. 227.

Syllabus

          A radio station of respondent Pacifica Foundation (hereinafter respondent) made an afternoon broadcast of a satiric monologue, entitled "Filthy Words," which listed and repeated a variety of colloquial uses of "words you couldn't say on the public airwaves." A father who heard the broadcast while driving with his young son complained to the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), which, after forwarding the complaint for comment to and receiving a response from respondent, issued a declaratory order granting the complaint. While not imposing formal sanctions, the FCC stated that the order would be "associated with the station's license file, and in the event subsequent complaints are received, the Commission will then decide whether it should utilize any of the available sanctions it has been granted by Congress." In its memorandum opinion, the FCC stated that it intended to "clarify the standards which will be utilized in considering" the growing number of complaints about indecent radio broadcasts, and it advanced several reasons for treating that type of speech differently from other forms of expression. The FCC found a power to regulate indecent broadcasting, inter alia, in 18 U.S.C. § 1464 (1976 ed.), which forbids the use of "any obscene, indecent, or profane language by means of radio communications." The FCC characterized the language of the monologue as "patently offensive," though not necessarily obscene, and expressed the opinion that it should be regulated by principles analogous to the law of nuisance where the "law generally speaks to channeling behavior rather than actually prohibiting it." The FCC found that certain words in the monologue depicted sexual and excretory activities in a particularly offensive manner, noted that they were broadcast in the early afternoon "when children are undoubtedly in the audience," and concluded that the language as broadcast was indecent and prohibited by § 1464. A three-judge panel of the Court of Appeals reversed, one judge concluding that the FCC's action was invalid either on the ground that the order constituted censorship, which was expressly forbidden by § 326 of the Communications Act of 1934, or on the ground that the FCC's opinion was the functional equivalent of

Page 727

a rule, and as such was "overbroad." Another judge, who felt that § 326's censorshi provision did not apply to broadcasts forbidden by § 1464, concluded that § 1464, construed narrowly as it has to be, covers only language that is obscene or otherwise unprotected by the First Amendment. The third judge, dissenting, concluded that the FCC had correctly condemned the daytime broadcast as indecent. Respondent contends that the broadcast was not indecent within the meaning of the statute because of the absence of prurient appeal. Held : The judgment is reversed. Pp. 734-741; 748-750; 761-762; 3046-3047.

            181 U.S.App.D.C. 132, 556 F.2d 9, reversed.

            Mr. Justice STEVENS delivered the opinion of the Court with respect to Parts I-III and IV-C, finding:

            1. The FCC's order was an adjudication under 5 U.S.C. § 554(e) (1976 ed.), the character of which was not changed by the general statements in the memorandum opinion; nor did the FCC's action constitute rulemaking or the promulgation of regulations. Hence, the Court's review must focus on the FCC's determination that the monologue was indecent as broadcast. Pp. 734-735.

            2. Section 326 does not limit the FCC's authority to sanction licensees who engage in obscene, indecent, or profane broadcasting. Though the censorship ban precludes editing proposed broadcasts in advance, the ban does not deny the FCC the power to review the content of completed broadcasts. Pp. 735-738.

            3. The FCC was warranted in concluding that indecent language within the meaning of § 1464 was used in the challenged broadcast. The words "obscene, indecent, or profane" are in the disjunctive, implying that each has a separate meaning. Though prurient appeal is an element of "obscene," it is not an element of "indecent," which merely refers to noncomformance with accepted standards of morality. Contrary to respondent's argument, this Court in Hamling v. United States, 418 U.S. 87, 94 S.Ct. 2887, 41 L.Ed.2d 590, has not foreclosed a reading of § 1464 that authorizes a proscription of "indecent" language that is not obscene, for the statute involved in that case, unlike § 1464, focused upon the prurient, and dealt primarily with printed matter in sealed envelopes mailed from one individual to another, whereas § 1464 deals with the content of public broadcasts. Pp. 738-741.

          4. Of all forms of communication, broadcasting has the most limited First Amendment protection. Among the reasons for specially treating indecent broadcasting is the uniquely pervasive presence that medium of expression occupies in the lives of our people. Broadcasts extend into the privacy of the home and it is impossible completely to avoid

Page 728

those that are patently offensive. Broadcasting, moreover, is uniquely accessible to children. Pp. 748-750.

            Mr. Justice STEVENS, joined by THE CHIEF JUSTICE, and Mr. Justice REHNQUIST, concluded in Parts IV-A and IV-B:

            1. The FCC's authority to proscribe this particular broadcast is not invalidated by the possibility that its construction of the statute may deter certain hypothetically protected broadcasts containing patently offensive references to sexual and excretory activities. Cf. Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 23 L.Ed.2d 371. Pp. 742-743.

            2. The First Amendment does not prohibit all governmental regulation that depends on the content of speech. Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47, 52, 39 S.Ct. 247, 249, 63 L.Ed. 470. The content of respondent's broadcast, which was "vulgar," "offensive," and "shocking," is not entitled to absolute constitutional protection in all contexts; it is therefore necessary to evaluate the FCC's action in light of the context of that broadcast. Pp. 744-748.

            Mr. Justice POWELL, joined by Mr. Justice BLACKMUN, concluded that the FCC's holding does not violate the First Amendment, though, being of the view that Members of this Court are not free generally to decide on the basis of its content which speech protected by the First Amendment is most valuable and therefore deserving of Fi st Amendment protection, and which is less "valuable" and hence less deserving of protection, he is unable to join Part IV-B (or IV-A) of the opinion. Pp. 761-762.

          Joseph A. Marino, Washington, D. C., for petitioner.

          Harry M. Plotkin, Washington, D. C., for respondent Pacifica Foundation.

          Louis F. Claiborne, Washington, D. C., for respondent United States.

Page 729

           Mr. Justice STEVENS delivered the opinion of the Court (Parts I, II, III and IV-C) and an opinion in which THE CHIEF JUSTICE and Mr. Justice REHNQUIST joined (Parts IV-A and IV-B).

          This case requires that we decide whether the Federal Communications Commission has any power to regulate a radio broadcast that is indecent but not obscene.

          A satiric humorist named George Carlin recorded a 12-minute monologue entitled "Filthy Words" before a live audience in a California theater. He began by referring to his thoughts about "the words you couldn't say on the public, ah, airwaves, um, the ones you definitely wouldn't say, ever." He proceeded to list those words and repeat them over and over again in a variety of colloquialisms. The transcript of the recording, which is appended to this opinion, indicates frequent laughter from the audience.

          At about 2 o'clock in the afternoon on Tuesday, October 30, 1973, a New York radio station, owned by respondent Pacifica

Page 730

Foundation, broadcast the "Filthy Words" monologue. A few weeks later a man, who stated that he had heard the broadcast while driving with his young son, wrote a letter complaining to the Commission. He stated that, although he could perhaps understand the "record's being sold for private use, I certainly cannot understand the broadcast of same over the air that, supposedly, you control."

          The complaint was forwarded to the station for comment. In its response, Pacifica explained that the monologue had been played during a program about contemporary society's attitude toward language and that, immediately before its broadcast, listeners had been advised that it included "sensitive language which might be regarded as offensive to some." Pacifica characterized George Carlin as "a significant social satirist" who "like Twain and Sahl before him, examines the language of ordinary people. . . . Carlin is not mouthing obscenities, he is merely using words to satirize as harmless and essentially silly our attitudes towards those words." Pacifica stated that it was not aware of any other complaints about the broadcast.

          On February 21, 1975, the Commission issued a declaratory order granting the complaint and holding that Pacifica "could have been the subject of administrative sanctions." 56 F.C.C.2d 94, 99. The Commission did not impose formal sanctions, but it did state that the order would be "associated with the station's license file, and in the event that subsequent complaints are received, the Commission will then decide whether it should utilize any of the available sanctions it has been granted by Congress." 1

Page 731

            In its memorandum opinion the commission stated that it intended to "clarify the standards which will be utilized in considering" the growing number of complaints about indecent speech on the airwaves. Id., at 94. Advancing several reasons for treating broadcast speech differently from other forms of expression,2 the Commission found a power to regulate indecent broadcasting in two statutes: 18 U.S.C. § 1464 (1976 ed.), which forbids the use of "any obscene, indecent, or profane language by means of radio communications," 3 and 47 U.S.C. § 303(g), whi h requires the Commission to "encourage the larger and more effective use of radio in the public interest." 4

          The Commission characterized the language used in the Carlin monologue as "patently offensive," though not necessarily obscene, and expressed the opinion that it should be regulated by principles analogous to those found in the law of nuisance where the "law generally speaks to channeling behavior more than actually prohibiting it. . . . [T]he con-

Page 732

cept of 'indecent' is intimately connected with the exposure of children to language that describes, in terms patently offensive as measured by contemporary community standards for the broadcast medium, sexual or excretory activities and organs at times of the day when there is a reasonable risk that children may be in the audience." 56 F.C.C.2d, at 98.5

          Applying these considerations to the language used in the monologue as broadcast by respondent, the Commission concluded that certain words depicted sexual and excretory activities in a patently offensive manner, noted that they "were broadcast at a time when children were undoubtedly in the audience (i. e., in the early afternoon)," and that the prerecorded language, with these offensive words "repeated over and over," was "deliberately broadcast." Id., at 99. In summary, the Commission stated: "We therefore hold that the language as broadcast was indecent and prohibited by 18 U.S.C. [§] 1464." 6 Ibid.

          After the order issued, the Commission was asked to clarify its opinion by ruling that the broadcast of indecent words as part of a live newscast would not be prohibited. The Commission issued another opinion in which it pointed out that

Page 733

it "never intended to place an absolute prohibition on the broadcast of this type of language, but rather sought to channel it to times of day when children most likely would not be exposed to it." 59 F.C.C.2d 892 (1976). The Commission noted that its "declaratory order was issued in a specific factual context," and declined to comment on various hypothetical situations presented by the petition.7 Id., at 893. It relied on its "long standing policy of refusing to issue interpretive rulings or advisory opinions when the critical facts are not explicitly stated or there is a possibility that subsequent events will alter them." Ibid.

          The United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit reversed, with each of the three judges on the panel writing separately. 181 U.S.App.D.C. 132, 556 F.2d 9. Judge Tamm concluded that the order represented censorship and was expressly prohibited by § 326 of the Communications Act.8 Alternatively, Judge Tamm read the Commission opinion as the functional equivalent of a rule and concluded that it was "overbroad." 181 U.S.App.D.C., at 141, 556 F.2d, at 18. Chief Judge Bazelon's concurrence rested on the Constitution. He was persuaded that § 326's prohibition against censorship is inapplicable to broadcasts forbidden by § 1464. However, he concluded that § 1464

Page 734

must be narrowly construed to cover only language that is obscene or otherwise unprotected by the First Amendment. 181 U.S.App.D.C., at 140-153, 556 F.2d, at 24-30. Judge Leventhal, in dissent, stated that the only issue was whether the Commission could regulate the language "as broadcast." Id., at 154, 556 F.2d, at 31. Emphasizing the interest in protecting children, not only from exposure to indecent language, but also from exposure to the idea that such language has official approval, id., at 160, and n.18, 556 F.2d, at 37, and n. 18, he concluded that the Commission had correctly condemned the daytime broadcast as indecent.

          Having granted the Commission's petition for certiorari, 434 U.S. 1008, 98 S.Ct. 715, 54 L.Ed.2d 749, we must decide: (1) whether the scope of judicial review encompasses more than the Commission's determination that the monologue was indecent "as broadcast"; (2) whether the Commission's order was a form of censorship forbidden by § 326; (3) whether the broadcast was indecent within the meaning of § 1464; and (4) whether the order violates the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.

I

            The general statements in the Commission's memorandum opinion do not change the character of its order. Its action was an adjudication under 5 U.S.C. § 554(e) (1976 ed.); it did not purport to engage in formal rulemaking or in the promulgation of any regulations. The order "was issued in a specific factual context"; questions concerning possible action in other contexts were expres ly reserved for the future. The specific holding was carefully confined to the monologue "as broadcast."

          "This Court . . . reviews judgments, not statements in opinions." Black v. Cutter Laboratories, 351 U.S. 292, 297, 76 S.Ct. 824, 827, 100 L.Ed. 1188. That admonition has special force when the statements raise constitutional questions, for it is our settled practice to avoid the unnecessary decision of such issues. Rescue Army v. Municipal Court, 331 U.S. 549, 568-569, 67 S.Ct. 1409, 1419-1420, 91 L.Ed. 1666. However appro-

Page 735

priate it may be for an administrative agency to write broadly in an adjudicatory proceeding, federal courts have never been empowered to issue advisory opinions. See Herb v. Pitcairn, 324 U.S. 117, 126, 65 S.Ct. 459, 463, 89 L.Ed. 789. Accordingly, the focus of our review must be on the Commission's determination that the Carlin monologue was indecent as broadcast.

II

          The relevant statutory questions are whether the Commission's action is forbidden "censorship" within the meaning of 47 U.S.C. § 326 and whether speech that concededly is not obscene may be restricted as "indecent" under the authority of 18 U.S.C. § 1464 (1976 ed.). The questions are not unrelated, for the two statutory provisions have a common origin. Nevertheless, we analyze them separately.

          Section 29 of the Radio Act of 1927 provided:

                    "Nothing in this Act shall be understood or construed to give the licensing authority the power of censorship over the radio communications or signals transmitted by any radio station, and no regulation or condition shall be promulgated or fixed by the licensing authority which shall interfere with the right of free speech by means of radio communications. No person within the jurisdiction of the United States shall utter any obscene, indecent, or profane language by means of radio communication." 44 Stat. 1172-1173.

          The prohibition against censorship unequivocally denies the Commission any power to edit proposed broadcasts in advance and to excise material considered inappropriate for the airwaves. The prohibition, however, has never been construed to deny the Commission the power to review the content of completed broadcasts in the performance of its regulatory duties.9

Page 736

            During the period between the original enactment of the provision in 1927 and its re-enactment in the Communications Act of 1934, the courts and the Federal Radio Commission held that the section deprived the Commission of the power to subject "broadcasting matter to scrutiny prior to its release," but they concluded that the Commission's "undoubted right" to take note of past program content when considering a licensee's renewal application "is not censorship." 10

Page 737

            Not only did the Federal Radio Commission so construe the statute prior to 1934; its successor, the Federal Communications Commission, has consistently interpreted the provision in the same way ever since. See Note, Regulation of Program Content by the FCC, 77 Harv.L.Rev. 701 (1964). And, until this case, the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit has consistently agreed with this construction.11 Thus, for example, in his opinion in Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith v. FCC, 131 U.S.App.D.C. 146, 403 F.2d 169 (1968), cert. denied, 394 U.S. 930, 89 S.Ct. 1190, 22 L.Ed.2d 459. Judge Wright forcefully pointed out that the Commission is not prevented from canceling the license of a broadcaster who persists in a course of improper programming. He explained:

                    "This would not be prohibited 'censorship,' . . . any more than would the Commission's considering on a license renewal application whether a broadcaster allowed 'coarse, vulgar, suggestive, double-meaning' programming; programs containing such material are grounds for denial of a license renewal." 131 U.S.App.D.C., at 150-151, n. 3, 403 F.2d, at 173-174, n. 3.

                    See also Office of Communication of United Church of Christ v. FCC, 123 U.S.App.D.C. 328, 359 F.2d 994 (1966).

          Entirely apart from the fact that the subsequent review of program content is not the sort of censorship at which the statute was directed, its history makes it perfectly clear that it was not intended to limit the Commission's power to regulate the broadcast of obscene, indecent, or profane language. A single section of the 1927 Act is the source of both

Page 738

the anticensorship provision and the Commission's authority to impose sanctions for the broadcast of indecent or obscene language. Quite plainly, Congress intended to give meaning to both provisions. Respect for that intent requires that the censorship language be read as inapplicable to the prohibition on broadcasting obscene, indecent, or profane language.

          There is nothing in the legislative history to contradict this conclusion. The provision was discussed only in generalities when it was first enacted.12 In 1934, the anticensorship provision and the prohibition against indecent broadcasts were re-enacted in the same section, just as in the 1927 Act. In 1948, when the Criminal Co e was revised to include provisions that had previously been located in other Titles of the United States Code, the prohibition against obscene, indecent, and profane broadcasts was removed from the Communications Act and re-enacted as § 1464 of Title 18. 62 Stat. 769 and 866. That rearrangement of the Code cannot reasonably be interpreted as having been intended to change the meaning of the anticensorship provision. H.R.Rep.No. 304, 80th Cong., 1st Sess., A106 (1947). Cf. Tidewater Oil Co. v. United States, 409 U.S. 151, 162, 93 S.Ct. 408, 415, 34 L.Ed.2d 375.

          We conclude, therefore, that § 326 does not limit the Commission's authority to impose sanctions on licensees who engage in obscene, indecent, or profane broadcasting.

III

          The only other statutory question presented by this case is whether the afternoon broadcast of the "Filthy Words"

Page 739

monologue was indecent within the meaning of § 1464.13 Even that question is narrowly confined by the arguments of the parties.

          The Commission identified several words that referred to excretory or sexual activities or organs, stated that the repetitive, deliberate use of those words in an afternoon broadcast when children are in the audience was patently offensive, and held that the broadcast was indecent. Pacifica takes issue with the Commission's definition of indecency, but does not dispute the Commission's preliminary determination that each of the components of its definition was present. Specifically, Pacifica does not quarrel with the conclusion that this afternoon broadcast was patently offensive. Pacifica's claim that the broadcast was not indecent within the meaning of the statute rests entirely on the absence of prurient appeal.

          The plain language of the statute does not support Pacifica's argument. The words "obscene, indecent, or profane" are

Page 740

written in the disjunctive, implying that each has a separate mean ng. Prurient appeal is an element of the obscene, but the normal definition of "indecent" merely refers to nonconformance with accepted standards of morality.14

          Pacifica argues, however, that this Court has construed the term "indecent" in related statutes to mean "obscene," as that term was defined in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419. Pacifica relies most heavily on the construction this Court gave to 18 U.S.C. § 1461 in Hamling v. United States, 418 U.S. 87, 94 S.Ct. 2887, 41 L.Ed.2d 590. See also United States v. 12 200-ft. Reels of Film, 413 U.S. 123, 130 n. 7, 93 S.Ct. 2665, 2670, 37 L.Ed.2d 500 (18 U.S.C. § 1462) (dicta). Hamling rejected a vagueness attack on § 1461, which forbids the mailing of "obscene, lewd, lascivious, indecent, filthy or vile" material. In holding that the statute's coverage is limited to obscenity, the Court followed the lead of Mr. Justice Harlan in Manual Enterprises, Inc. v. Day, 370 U.S. 478, 82 S.Ct. 1432, 8 L.Ed.2d 639. In that case, Mr. Justice Harlan recognized that § 1461 contained a variety of words with many shades of meaning.15 Nonetheless, he thought that the phrase "obscene, lewd, lascivious, indecent, filthy or vile," taken as a whole, was clearly limited to the obscene, a reading well grounded in prior judicial constructions: "[T]he statute since its inception has always been taken as aimed at obnoxiously debasing portrayals of sex." 370 U.S., at 483, 82 S.Ct., at 1434. In Hamling the Court agreed with Mr. Justice Harlan that § 1461 was meant only to regulate obscenity in the mails; by reading into it the limits set by Miller v. California, supra, the Court adopted a construction which assured the statute's constitutionality.

Page 741

          The reasons supporting Hamling § construction of § 1461 do not apply to § 1464. Although the history of the former revealed a primary concern with the prurient, the Commission has long interpreted § 1464 as encompassing more than the obscene.16 The former statute deals primarily with printed matter enclosed in sealed envelopes mailed from one individual to another; the latter deals with the content of public broadcasts. It is unrealistic to assume that Congress intended to impose precisely the same limitations on the dissemination of patently offensive matter by such different means.17

            Because neither our prior decisions nor the language or history of § 1464 supports the conclusion that prurient appeal is an essential component of indecent language, we reject Pacifica's construction of the statute. When that construction is put to one side, there is no basis for disagreeing with the Commission's conclusion that indecent language was used in this broadcast.

Page 742

IV

          Pacifica makes two constitutional attacks on the Commission's order. First, it argues that the Commission's construction of the statutory language broadly encompasses so much constitutionally protected speech that reversal is required even if Pacifica's broadcast of the "Filthy Words" monologue is not itself protected by the First Amendment. Second, Pacifica argues that inasmuch as the recording is not obscene, the Constitution forbids any abridgment of the right to broadcast it on the radio.

A

          The first argument fails because our review is limited to the question whether the Commission has the authority to proscribe this particular broadcast. As the Commission itself emphasized, its order was "issued in a specific factual context." 59 F.C.C.2d, at 893. That approach is appropriate for courts as well as the Commission when regulation of indecency is at stake, for indecency is largely a function of context—it cannot be adequately judged in the abstract.

          The approach is also consistent with Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 23 L.Ed.2d 371. In that case the Court rejected an argument that the Commission's regulations defining the fairness doctrine were so vague that they would inevitably abridge the broadcasters' freedom of speech. The Court of Appeals had invalidated the regulations because their vagueness might lead to self-censorship of controversial program

Page 743

content. Radio Television News Directors Assn. v. United States, 400 F.2d 1002, 1016 (CA7 1968). This Court reversed. After noting that the Commission had indicated, as it has in this case, that it would not impose sanctions without warning in cases in which the applicability of the law was unclear, the Court stated:

                    "We need not approve every aspect of the fairness doctrine to decide these cases, and we will not now pass upon the constitutionality of these regulations by envisioning the most extreme applications conceivable, United States v. Sullivan, 332 U.S. 689, 694, [68 S.Ct. 331, 92 L.Ed. 297] (1948), but will deal with those problems if and when they arise." 395 U.S., at 396, 89 S.Ct., at 1809.

          It is true that the Commission's order may lead some broadcasters to censor themselves. At most, however, the Commission's definition of indecency will deter only the broadcasting of patently offensive references to excretory and sexual organs and activities.18 While some of these references may be protected, they surely lie at the periphery of First Amendment concern. Cf. Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, 433 U.S. 350, 380-381, 97 S.Ct. 2691, 2707-2708, 53 L.Ed.2d 810. Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U.S. 50, 61, 96 S.Ct. 2440, 2448, 49 L.Ed.2d 310. The danger dismissed so summarily in Red Lion, in contrast, was that broadcasters would respond to the vagueness of the regulations by refusing to present programs dealing with important social and political controversies. Invalidating any rule on the basis of its hypothetical application to situations not before the Court is "strong medicine" to be applied "sparingly and only as a last resort." Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U.S. 601, 613, 93 S.Ct. 2908, 2916, 37 L.Ed.2d 830. We decline to administer that medicine to preserve the vigor of patently offensive sexual and excretory speech.

Page 744

B

          When the issue is narrowed to the facts of this case, the question is whether the First Amendment denies government any power to restrict the public broadcast of indecent language in any circumstances.19 For if the government has any such power, this was an appropriate occasion for its exercise.

          The words of the Carlin monologue are unquestionably "speech" within the meaning of the First Amendment. It is equally clear that the Commission's objections to the broadcast were based in part on its content. The order must therefore fall if, as Pacifica argues, the First Amendment prohibits all governmental regulation that depends on the content of speech. Our past cases demonstrate, however, that no such absolute rule is mandated by the Constitution.

          The classic exposition of the proposition that both the content and the context of speech are critical elements of First Amendment analysis is Mr. Justice Holmes' statement for the Court in Schenck v. United States, 249 U.S. 47, 52, 39 S.Ct. 247, 248, 63 L.Ed. 470:

                    "We admit that in many places and in ordinary times the defendants in saying all that was said in the circular would have been within their constitutional rights. But the character of every act depends upon the circumstances in which it is done. . . . The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man in falsely shouting fire in a theatre and causing a panic. It does not even protect a man from an injunction against uttering words

Page 745

          that may have all the effect of force. . . . The question in every case 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."

          Other distinctions based on content have been approved in the years since Schenck. The government may forbid speech calculated to provoke a fight. See Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1031. It may pay heed to the " 'commonsense differences' between commercial speech and other varieties." Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, supra, 433 U.S., at 381, 97 S.Ct., at 2707. I may treat libels against private citizens more severely than libels against public officials. See Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., 418 U.S. 323, 94 S.Ct. 2997, 41 L.Ed.2d 789. Obscenity may be wholly prohibited. Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419. And only two Terms ago we refused to hold that a "statutory classification is unconstitutional because it is based on the content of communication protected by the First Amendment." Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., supra, 427 U.S., at 52, 96 S.Ct., at 2443.

          The question in this case is whether a broadcast of patently offensive words dealing with sex and excretion may be regulated because of its content.20 Obscene materials have been denied the protection of the First Amendment because their content is so offensive to contemporary moral standards. Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498. But the fact that society may find speech offensive is not a sufficient reason for suppressing it. Indeed, if it is the speaker's opinion that gives offense, that consequence is a reason for according it constitutional protection. For it is a central tenet of the First Amendment that the government must remain neutral in the marketplace of

Page 746

ideas.21 If there were any reason to believe that the Commission's characterization of the Carlin monologue as offensive could be traced to its political content—or even to the fact that it satirized contemporary attitudes about four-letter words 22 First Amendment protection might be required. But that is simply not this case. These words offend for the same reasons that obscenity offends.23 Their place in the hierarchy of First Amendment values was aptly sketched by Mr. Justice Murphy when he said: "Such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality." Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S., at 572, 62 S.Ct., at 769.

          Although these words ordinarily lack literary, political, or scientific value, they are not entirely outside the protection of the First Amendment. Some uses of even the most offensive words are unquestionably protected. See, e. g., Hess v. Indiana, 414 U.S. 105, 94 S.Ct. 326, 38 L.Ed.2d 303. Indeed, we may assume, arguendo, t at this monologue would be protected in other contexts. None-

Page 747

theless, the constitutional protection accorded to a communication containing such patently offensive sexual and excretory language need not be the same in every context.24 It is a characteristic of speech such as this that both its capacity to offend and its "social value," to use Mr. Justice Murphy's term, vary with the circumstances. Words that are commonplace in one setting are shocking in another. To paraphrase Mr. Justice Harlan, one occasion's lyric is another's vulgarity. Cf. Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 25, 91 S.Ct. 1780, 1788, 29 L.Ed.2d 284.25

          In this case it is undisputed that the content of Pacifica's broadcast was "vulgar," "offensive," and "shocking." Because content of that character is not entitled to absolute constitutional protection under all circumstances, we must consider its

Page 748

context in order to determine whether the Commission's action was constitutionally permissible.

C

            We have long recognized that each medium of expression presents special First Amendment problems. Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U.S. 495, 502-503, 72 S.Ct. 777, 780-781, 96 L.Ed. 1098. And of all forms of communication, it is broadcasting that has received the most limited First Amendment protection. Thus, although other speakers cannot be licensed except under laws that carefully define and narrow official discretion, a broadcaster may be deprived of his license and his forum if the Commission decides that such an action would serve "the public interest, convenience, and necessity." 26 Similarly, although the First Amendment protects newspaper publishers from being required to print the replies of those whom they criticize, Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, 418 U.S. 241, 94 S.Ct. 2831, 41 L.Ed.2d 730, it affords no such protection to broadcasters; on the contrary, they must give free time to the victims of their criticism. Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 23 L.Ed.2d 371.

          The reasons for these distinctions are complex, but two have relevance to the present case. First, the broadcast media have established a uniquely pervasive presence in the lives of all Americans. Patently offensive, indecent material presented over the airwaves confronts the citizen, not only in public, but also in the privacy of the home, where the individual's right to be left alone plainly outweighs the First Amendment rights of an intruder. Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728, 90 S.Ct. 1484, 25 L.Ed.2d 736. Because the broadcast audience is constantly tuning in and out, prior warnings cannot completely protect the listener or viewer from unexpected program content. To say that one may avoid further offense by turning off the radio when he

Page 749

hears indecent language is like saying that the remedy for an assault is to run away after the first blow. One may hang up on an indecent phone call, but that option does not give the caller a constitutional immunity or avoid a harm that has already taken place.27

          Second, broadcasting is uniquely accessible to children, even those too young to read. Although Cohen's written message might have been incomprehensible to a first grader, Pacifica's broadcast could have enlarged a child's vocabulary in an instant. Other forms of offensive expression may be withheld from the young without restricting the expression at its source. Bookstores and motion picture theaters, for example, may be prohibited from making indecent material available to children. We held in Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 20 L.Ed.2d 195, that the government's interest in the "well-being of its youth" and in supporting "parents' claim to authority in their own household" justified the regulation of otherwise protected expression.

Page 750

Id., at 640 and 639, 88 S.Ct., at 1280.28 The ease with which children may obtain access to broadcast material, coupled with the concerns recognized in Ginsberg, amply justify special treatment of indecent broadcasting.

          It is appropriate, in conclusion, to emphasize the narrowness of our holding. This case does not involve a two-way radio conversation between a cab driver and a dispatcher, or a telecast of an Elizabethan comedy. We have not decided that an occasional expletive in either setting would justify any sanction or, indeed, that this broadcast would justify a criminal prosecution. The Commission's decision rested entirely on a nuisance rationale under which context is all-important. The concept requires consideration of a host of variables. The time of day was emphasized by the Commission. The content of the program in which the language is used will also affect the composition of the audience,29 and differences between radio, television, and perhaps closed-circuit transmissions, may also be relevant. As Mr. Justice Sutherland wrote a "nuisance may be merely a right thing in the wrong place,—like a pig in the parlor instead of the barnyard." Euclid v. Ambler Realty Co., 272 U.S. 365, 388, 47 S.Ct. 114, 118, 71 L.Ed. 303. We simply hold that when the Commission finds that a pig has entered the parlor, the exercise

Page 751

of its regulatory power does not depend on proof that the pig is obscene.

          The judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed.

          It is so ordered.

                            APPENDIX TO OPINION OF THE COURT

          The following is a verbatim transcript of "Filthy Words" prepared by the Federal Communications Commission.

          Aruba-du, ruba-tu, ruba-tu. I was thinking about the curse words and the swear words, the cuss words and the words that you can't say, that you're not supposed to say all the time, [']cause words or people into words want to hear your words. Some guys like to record your words and sell them back to you if they can, (laughter) listen in on the telephone, write down what words you say. A guy who used to be in Washington, knew that his phone was tapped, used to answer, Fuck Hoover, yes, go ahead. (laughter) Okay, I was thinking one night about the words you couldn't say on the public, ah, airwaves, um, the ones you definitely wouldn't say, ever, [']cause I heard a lady say bitch one night on television, and it was cool like she was talking about, you know, ah, well, the bitch is the first one to notice that in the litter Johnie right (murmur) Right. And, uh, bastard you can say, and hell and damn so I have to figure out which ones you couldn't and ever and it came down to seven but the list is open to amendment, and in fact, has been changed, uh, by now, ha, a lot of people pointed things out to me, and I noticed some myself. The original seven words were, shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits. Those are the ones that will curve your spine, grow hair on your hands and (laughter) maybe, even bring us, God help us, peace without honor (laughter) um, and a bourbon. (laughter) And now the first thing that we noticed was that work fuck was really repeated in there because the word motherfucker is a compound word and it's another form of the word fuck. (laughter) You want to be a purist it

Page 752

doesn't really—it can't be on the list of basic words. Also, cocksucker is a compound word and neither half of that is really dirty. The word—the half sucker that's merely suggestive (laughter) and the word cock is a half-way dirty word, 50% dirty dirty half the time, depending on what you mean by it. (laughter) Uh, remember when you first heard it, like in 6th grade, you used to giggle. And the cock crowed three times, heh (laughter) the cock—three times. It's in the Bible, cock in the Bible. (laughter) And the first time you heard about a cock-fight, remember—What? Huh? naw. It ain't that, are you stupid? man. (laughter, clapping) It's chickens, you know, (laughter) Then you have the four letter words from the old Angle-Saxon fame. Uh, shit and fuck. The word shit, uh, is an interesting kind of word in that the middle class has never really accepted it and approved it. They use it like, crazy but it's not really okay. It's still a rude, dirty, old kind of gushy word. (laughter) They don't like that, but they say it, like, they say it like, a lady now in a middle-class home, you'll hear most of the time she says it as an expletive, you know, it's out of her mouth before she knows. She says, Oh shit oh shit, (laughter) oh shit. If she drops something, Oh, the shit hurt the broccoli. Shit. Thank you. (footsteps fading away) (papers ruffling)

          Read it! (from audience)

          Shit! (laughter) I won the Grammy, man, for the comedy album. Isn't that groovy? (clapping, whistling) (murmur) That's true. Thank you. Thank you man. Yeah. (murmer) (continuous clapping) Thank you man. Thank you. Thank you very much, man. Thank, no, (end of continuous clapping) for that and for the Grammy, man, [']cause (laughter) that's based on people liking it man, yeh, that's ah, that's okay man. (laughter) Let's let that go, man. I got my Grammy. I can let my hair hang down now, shit. (laughter) Ha! So! Now the word shit is okay for the man. At work you can say it like crazy. Mostly figuratively, Get that shit out of here,

Page 753

will ya? I don't want to see that shit anymore. I can't cut that shit, buddy. I've had that shit up to here. I think you're full of shit myself. (laughter) He don't know shit from Shinola. (laughter) you know that? (laughter) Always wondered how the Shinola people felt about that (laughter) Hi, I'm the new man from Shinola, (laughter) Hi, how are ya? Nice to see ya. (laughter) How are ya? (laughter) Boy, I don't know whether to shit or wind my watch. (laughter) Guess, I'll shit on my watch. (laughter) Oh, the shit is going to hit de fan. (laughter). Built like a brick shit-house. (laughter) Up, he's up shit's creek. (laughter) He's had it. (laughter) He hit me, I'm sorry. (laughter) Hot shit, holy shit, tough shit, eat shit. (laughter) shit-eating grin. Uh, whoever thought of that was ill. (murmur laughter) He had a shit-eating grin! He had a what? (laughter) Shit on a stick. (laughter) Shit in a handbag. I always like that. He ain't worth shit in a handbag. (laughter) Shitty. He acted real shitty. (laughter) You know what I mean? (laughter) I got the money back, but a real shitty attitude. Heh, he had a shit-fit. (laughter) Wow! Shit-fit. Whew! Glad I wasn't there. (murmur, laughter) All the animals—Bull shit, horseshit, cow shit, rat shit, bat shit. (laughter) First time I heard bat shit, I really came apart. A guy in Oklahoma, Boggs, said it, man. Aw! Bat shit. (laughter) Vera reminded me of that last night, ah (murmur). Snake shit, slicker than owl shit. (laughter) Get your shit together. Shit or get off the pot. (laughter) I got a shit-load full of them. (laughter) I got a shit-pot full, all right. Shit-head, shit-heel, shit in your heart, shit for brains, (laughter) shit-face, heh (laughter) I always try to think how that could have originated; the first guy that said that. Somebody got drunk and fell in some shit, you know. (laughter) Hey, I'm shit-face. (laughter) Shit-face, today. (laughter) Anyway, enough of that shit. (laughter) The big one, the word fuck that's the one that hangs them up the most. [']Cause in a lot of cases that's the very act that

Page 754

hangs them up the most. So, it's natural that the word would, uh, have the same effect. It's a great word, fuck, nice word, easy word, cute word, kind of. Easy word to say. One syllable, short u. (laughter Fuck. (Murmur) You know, it's easy. Starts with a nice soft sound fuh ends with akuh. Right? (laughter) A little something for everyone. Fuck (laughter) Good word. Kind of a proud word, too. Who are you? I am FUCK, (laughter) FUCK OF THE MOUNTAIN. (laughter) Tune in again next week to FUCK OF THE MOUNTAIN. (laughter) It's an interesting word too, [']cause it's got a double kind of a life—personality—dual, you know, whatever the right phrase is. It leads a double life, the word fuck. First of all, it means, sometimes, most of the time, fuck. What does it mean? It means to make love. Right? We're going to make love, yeh, we're going to fuck, yeh, we're going to fuck, yeh, we're going to make love. (laughter) we're really going to fuck, yeh, we're going to make love. Right? And it also means the beginning of life, it's the act that begins life, so there's the word hanging around with words like love, and life, and yet on the other hand, it's also a word that we really use to hurt each other with, man. It's a heavy. It's one that you have toward the end of the argument. (laughter) Right? (laughter) You finally can't make out. Oh, fuck you man. I said, fuck you. (laughter, murmur) Stupid fuck. (laughter) Fuck you and everybody that looks like you. (laughter) man. It would be nice to change the movies that we already have and substitute the word fuck for the word kill, wherever we could, and some of those movie cliches would change a little bit. Madfuckers still on the loose. Stop me before I fuck again. Fuck the ump, fuck the ump, fuck the ump, fuck the ump, fuck the ump. Easy on the clutch Bill, you'll fuck that engine again. (laughter) The other shit one was, I don't give a shit. Like it's worth something, you know? (laughter) I don't give a shit. Hey, well, I don't take no shit, (laughter) you know what I mean? You know why I don't take no shit? (laughter)

Page 755

[']Cause I don't give a shit. (laughter) If I give a shit, I would have to pack shit. (laughter) But I don't pack no shit cause I don't give a shit. (laughter) You wouldn't shit me, would you? (laughter) That's a joke when you're a kid with a worm looking out the bird's ass. You wouldn't shit me, would you? (laughter) It's an eight-year-old joke but a good one. (laughter) The additions to the list. I found three more words that had to be put on the list of words you could never say on television, and they were fart, turd and twat, those three. (laughter) Fart, we talked about, it's harmless. It's like tits, it's a cutie word, no problem. Turd, you can't say but who wants to, you know? (laughter) The subject never comes up on the panel so I'm not worried about that one. Now the word twat is an interesting word. Twat! Yeh, right in the twat. (laughter) Twat is an interesting word because it's the only one I know of, the only slang word applying to the, a part of the sexual anatomy that doesn't have another meaning to it. Like, ah, snatch, box and pussy all have other meanings, man. Even in a Walt Disney movie, you can say, We're going to snatch that pussy and put him in a box and bring him on the airplane. (murmer, laughter) Everybody loves it. The twat stands alone, man, as it should. And two-way words. Ah, ass is okay providing you're riding into town on a religious feast day. (laughter) You can't say, up your ass. (laughter) You can say, stuff it! (murmur) There are certain things you can say its weird but you can just come so close. Before I cut, I, uh, want to, ah, thank you for listening to my words, man, fellow, uh space travelers. Thank you man for tonight and thank you also. (clapping whistling)

           Mr. Justice POWELL, with whom Mr. Justice BLACKMUN joins, concurring in part and concurring in the judgment.

          I join Parts I, II, III, and IV-C of Mr. Justice STEVENS' opinion. The Court today reviews only the Commission's holding that Carlin's monologue was indecent "as broadcast"

Page 756

at two o'clock in the afternoon, and not the broad sweep of the Commission's opinion. Ante, at 734-735. In addition to being consistent with our settled practice of not deciding constitutional issues unnecessarily, see ante, at 734; Ashwander v. TVA, 297 U.S. 288, 345-348, 56 S.Ct. 466, 482-484, 80 L.Ed. 688 (1936) (Brandeis, J., concurring), this narrow focus also is conducive to the orderly development of this relatively new and difficult area of law, in the first instance by the Commission, and then by the reviewing courts. See 181 U.S.App.D.C. 132, 158-160, 556 F.2d 9, 35-37 (1977) (Leventhal, J., dissenting).

          I also agree with much that is said in Part IV of Mr. Justice STEVENS' opinion, and with its conclusion that the Commission's holding in this case does not violate the First Amendment. Because I do not subscribe to all that is said in Part IV, however, I state my views separately.

I

          It is conceded that the monologue at issue here is not obscene in the constitutional sense. See 56 F.C.C.2d 94, 98 (1975); Brief for Petitioner 18. Nor, in this context, does its language constitute "fighting words" within the meaning of Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1031 (1942). Some of the words used have been held protected by the First Amendment in other cases and contexts. E. g., Lewis v. New Orleans, 415 U.S. 130, 94 S.Ct. 970, 39 L.Ed.2d 214 (1974); Hess v. Indiana, 414 U.S. 105, 94 S.Ct. 326, 38 L.Ed.2d 303 (1973); Papish v. University of Missouri Curators, 410 U.S. 667, 93 S.Ct. 1197, 35 L.Ed.2d 618 (1973); Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 91 S.Ct. 1780, 29 L.Ed.2d 284 (1971); see also Eaton v. Tulsa, 415 U.S. 697, 94 S.Ct. 1228, 39 L.Ed.2d 693 (1974). I do not think Carlin, consistently with the First Amendment, could be punished for delivering the same monologue to a live audience composed of adults who, knowing what to expect, chose to attend his performance. See Brown v. Oklahoma, 408 U.S. 914, 92 S.Ct. 2507, 33 L.Ed.2d 326 (1972) (POWELL, J., concurring in result). And I would assume that an adult could not constitutionally be prohibited from purchasing a recording or transcript of the monologue

Page 757

and playing or reading it in the privacy of his own home. Cf. Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U.S. 557, 89 S.Ct. 1243, 22 L.Ed.2d 542 (1969).

          But it also is true that the language employed is, to most people, vulgar and offensive. It was chosen specifically for this quality, and it was repeated over and over as a sort of verbal shock treatment. The Commission did not err in characterizing the narrow category of language used here as "patently offensive" to most people regardless of age.

          The issue, however, is whether the Commission may impose civil sanctions on a licensee radio station for broadcasting the monologue at two o'clock in the afternoon. The Commission's primary concern was to prevent the broadcast from reaching the ears of unsupervised children who were likely to be in the audience at that hour. In essence, the Commission sought to "channel" the monologue to hours when the fewest unsupervised children would be exposed to it. See 56 F.C.C.2d, at 98. In my view, this consideration provides strong support for the Commission's holding.1

          The Court has recognized society's right to "adopt more stringent controls on communicative materials available to youths than on those available to adults." Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 212, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 2274, 45 L.Ed.2d 125 (1975); see also, e. g., Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 36 n. 17, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 2621, 37 L.Ed.2d 419 (1973); Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 636-641, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 1278-1282, 20 L.Ed.2d 195 (1968); Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U.S. 184, 195, 84 S.Ct. 1676, 1682, 12 L.Ed.2d 793 (1964) (opinion of BRENNAN, J.). This recognition stems in large art from the fact that "a child . . . is not possessed of that full capacity for individual choice which is the presupposition of First Amendment guarantees." Ginsberg v. New York, supra, 390 U.S., at 649-650, 88 S.Ct., at 1286 (STEWART, J., concurring in result). Thus, children may not be able to protect themselves from speech which, although shocking to most adults, generally may be avoided by the unwilling

Page 758

through the exercise of choice. At the same time, such speech may have a deeper and more lasting negative effect on a child than on an adult. For these reasons, society may prevent the general dissemination of such speech to children, leaving to parents the decision as to what speech of this kind their children shall hear and repeat:

                    "[C]onstitutional interpretation has consistently recognized that the parents' claim to authority in their own household to direct the rearing of their children is basic in the structure of our society. 'It is cardinal with us that the custody, care and nurture of the child reside first in the parents, whose primary function and freedom include preparation for obligations the state can neither supply nor hinder.' Prince v. Massachusetts, [321 U.S. 158, 166, 64 S.Ct. 438, 88 L.Ed. 645 (1944)]. The legislature could properly conclude that parents and others, teachers for example, who have this primary responsibility for children's well-being are entitled to the support of laws designed to aid discharge of that responsibility." Id., at 639, 88 S.Ct., at 1280.

          The Commission properly held that the speech from which society may attempt to shield its children is not limited to that which appeals to the youthful prurient interest. The language involved in this case is as potentially degrading and harmful to children as representations of many erotic acts.

          In most instances, the dissemination of this kind of speech to children may be limited without also limiting willing adults' access to it. Sellers of printed and recorded matter and exhibitors of motion pictures and live performances may be required to shut their doors to children, but such a requirement has no effect on adults' access. See id., at 634-635, 88 S.Ct., at 1277-1278. The difficulty is that such a physical separation of the audience cannot be accomplished in the broadcast media. During most of the broadcast hours, both adults and unsupervised children are likely to be in the broadcast audience, and the broadcaster cannot reach willing adults without also reaching

Page 759

children. This, as the Court emphasizes, is one of the distinctions between the broadcast and other media to which we often have adverted as justifying a different treatment of the broadcast media for First Amendment purposes. See Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, 433 U.S. 350, 384, 97 S.Ct. 2691, 2709, 53 L.Ed.2d 810 (1977); Columbia Broadcasting System, Inc. v. Democratic National Committee, 412 U.S. 94, 101, 93 S.Ct. 2080, 2086, 36 L.Ed.2d 772 (1973); Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 386-387, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 1804-1805, 23 L.Ed.2d 371 (1969); Capital Broadcasting Co. v. Mitchell, 333 F.Supp. 582 (DC 1971), aff'd sub nom. Capital Broadcasting Co. v. Acting Attorney General, 405 U.S. 1000, 92 S.Ct. 1289, 31 L.Ed.2d 472 (1972); see generally Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U.S. 495, 502-503, 72 S.Ct. 777, 780-781, 96 L.Ed. 1098 (1952). In my view, the Commission was entitled to give substantial weight to this difference in reaching its decision in this case.

          A second difference, not without relevance, is that broadcasting—unlike most other forms of communication—comes directly into the home, the one place where people ordinarily have the right not to be assaulted by uninvited and offensive sights and sounds. Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, supra, 422 U.S., at 209, 95 S.Ct., at 2272; Cohen v. California, 403 U.S., at 21, 91 S.Ct., at 1786; Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728, 90 S.Ct. 1484, 25 L.Ed.2d 7 6 (1970). Although the First Amendment may require unwilling adults to absorb the first blow of offensive but protected speech when they are in public before they turn away, see, e. g., Erznoznik, supra, 422 U.S., at 210-211, 95 S.Ct., at 2273-2274; but cf. Rosenfeld v. New Jersey, 408 U.S. 901, 903-909, 92 S.Ct. 2479-2481, 33 L.Ed.2d 321 (1972) (POWELL, J., dissenting), a different order of values obtains in the home. "That we are often 'captives' outside the sanctuary of the home and subject to objectionable speech and other sound does not mean we must be captives everywhere." Rowan v. Post Office Dept., supra, 397 U.S., at 738, 90 S.Ct., at 1491. The Commission also was entitled to give this factor appropriate weight in the circumstances of the instant case. This is not to say, however, that the Commission has an unrestricted license to decide what speech, protected in other media, may be banned from the airwaves in order to protect

Page 760

unwilling adults from momentary exposure to it in their homes.2 Making the sensitive judgments required in these cases is not easy. But this responsibility has been reposed initially in the Commission, and its judgment is entitled to respect.

          It is argued that despite society's right to protect its children from this kind of speech, and despite everyone's interest in not being assaulted by offensive speech in the home, the Commission's holding in this case is impermissible because it prevents willing adults from listening to Carlin's monologue over the radio in the early afternoon hours. It is said that this ruling will have the effect of "reduc[ing] the adult population . . . to [hearing] only what is fit for children." Butler v. Michigan, 352 U.S. 380, 383, 77 S.Ct. 524, 526, 1 L.Ed.2d 412 (1957). This argument is not without force. The Commission certainly should consider it as it develops standards in this area. But it is not sufficiently strong to leave the Commission powerless to act in circumstances such as those in this case.

          The Commission's holding does not prevent willing adults from purchasing Carlin's record, from attending his performances, or, indeed, from reading the transcript reprinted as an appendix to the Court's opinion. On its face, it does not prevent respondent Pacifica Foundation from broadcasting the monologue during late evening hours when fewer children are likely to be in the audience, nor from broadcasting discussions of the contemporary use of language at any time during the day. The Commission's holding, and certainly the Court's holding today, does not speak to cases involving the isolated

Page 761

use of a potentially offensive word in the course of a radio broadcast, as distinguished from the verbal shock treatment administered by respondent here. In short, I agree that on the facts of this case, the Commission's order did not violate respondent's First Amendment rights.

II

          As the foregoing demonstrates, my views are generally in accord with what is said in Part IV-C of Mr. Justice STEVENS' opinion. See ante, at 748-750. I therefore join that portion of his opinion. I do not join Part IV-B, however, because I do not subscribe to the theory that the Justices of this Court are free generally to decide on the basis of its content which speech protected by the First Amendment is most "valuable" and hence deserving of the most protection, and which is less "valuable" and hence deserving of less protection. Compare ante, at 744-748; Young v. American Mini Thea res, Inc., 427 U.S. 50, 63-73, 96 S.Ct. 2440, 2448-2454, 49 L.Ed.2d 310 (1976) (opinion of Stevens, J.), with id., at 73 n. 1, 96 S.Ct., at 2453 (Powell, J., concurring).3 In my view, the result in this case does not turn on whether Carlin's monologue, viewed as a whole, or the words that constitute it, have more or less "value" than a candidate's campaign speech. This is a judgment for each person to make, not one for the judges to impose upon him.4

Page 762

            The result turns instead on the unique characteristics of the broadcast media, combined with society's right to protect its children from speech generally agreed to be inappropriate for their years, and with the interest of unwilling adults in not being assaulted by such offensive speech in their homes. Moreover, I doubt whether today's decision will prevent any adult who wishes to receive Carlin's message in Carlin's own words from doing so, and from making for himself a value judgment as to the merit of the message and words. Cf. Id., at 77-79, 96 S.Ct., at 2455-2457 (POWELL, J., concurring). These are the grounds upon which I join the judgment of the Court as to Part IV.

           Mr. Justice BRENNAN, with whom Mr. Justice MARSHALL joins, dissenting.

          I agree with Mr. Justice STEWART that, under Hamling v. United States, 418 U.S. 87, 94 S.Ct. 2887, 41 L.Ed.2d 590 (1974), and United States v. 12 200-ft. Reels of Film, 413 U.S. 123, 93 S.Ct. 2665, 37 L.Ed.2d 500 (1973), the word "indecent" in 18 U.S.C. § 1464 (1976 ed.) must be construed to prohibit only obscene speech. I would, therefore, normally refrain from expressing my views on any constitutional issues implicated in this case. However, I find the Court's misapplication of fundamental First Amendment principles so patent, and its attempt to impose its notions of propriety on the whole of the American people so misguided, that I am unable to remain silent.

I

          For the second time in two years, see Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U.S. 50, 96 S.Ct. 2440, 49 L.Ed.2d 310 (1976), the Court refuses to embrace the notion, completely antithetical to basic First Amendment values, that the degree of protection the First

Page 763

Amendment affords protected speech varies with the social value ascribed to that speech by five Members of this Court. See opinion of Mr. Justice POWELL, ante, at 761-762. Moreover, as do all parties, all Members of the Court agree that the Carlin monologue aired by Station WBAI does not fall within one of the categories of speech, such as "fighting words," Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 7 6, 86 L.Ed. 1031 (1942), or obscenity, Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957), that is totally without First Amendment protection. This conclusion, of course, is compelled by our cases expressly holding that communications containing some of the words found condemnable here are fully protected by the First Amendment in other contexts. See Eaton v. Tulsa, 415 U.S. 697, 94 S.Ct. 1228, 39 L.Ed.2d 693 (1974); Papish v. University of Missouri Curators, 410 U.S. 667, 93 S.Ct. 1197, 35 L.Ed.2d 618 (1973); Brown v. Oklahoma, 408 U.S. 914, 92 S.Ct. 2507, 33 L.Ed.2d 326 (1972); Lewis v. New Orleans, 408 U.S. 913, 92 S.Ct. 2499, 33 L.Ed.2d 321 (1972); Rosenfeld v. New Jersey, 408 U.S. 901, 92 S.Ct. 2479, 33 L.Ed.2d 321 (1972); Cohen v. California, 403 U.S. 15, 91 S.Ct. 1780, 29 L.Ed.2d 284 (1971). Yet despite the Court's refusal to create a sliding scale of First Amendment protection calibrated to this Court's perception of the worth of a communication's content, and despite our unanimous agreement that the Carlin monologue is protected speech, a majority of the Court 1 nevertheless finds that, on the facts of this case, the FCC is not constitutionally barred from imposing sanctions on Pacifica for its airing of the Carlin monologue. This majority apparently believes that the FCC's disapproval of Pacifica's afternoon broadcast of Carlin's "Dirty Words" recording is a permissible time, place, and manner regulation. Kovacs v. Cooper, 336 U.S. 77, 69 S.Ct. 448, 93 L.Ed. 513 (1949). Both the opinion of my Brother STEVENS and the opinion of my Brother POWELL rely principally on two factors in reaching this conclusion: (1) the capacity of a radio broadcast to intrude into the unwilling listener's home,

Page 764

and (2) the presence of children in the listening audience. Dispassionate analysis, removed from individual notions as to what is proper and what is not, starkly reveals that these justifications, whether individually or together, simply do not support even the professedly moderate degree of governmental homogenization of radio communications—if, indeed, such homogenization can ever be moderate given the pre-eminent status of the right of free speech in our constitutional scheme—that the Court today permits.

          Without question, the privacy interests of an individual in his home are substantial and deserving of significant protection. In finding these interests sufficient to justify the content regulation of protected speech, however, the Court commits two errors. First, it misconceives the nature of the privacy interests involved where an individual voluntarily chooses to admit radio communications into his home. Second, it ignores the constitutionally protected interests of both those who wish to transmit and those who desire to receive broadcasts that many including the FCC and this Court—might find offensive.

          "The ability of government, consonant with the Constitution, to shut off discourse solely to protect others from hearing it is . . . dependent upon a showing that substantial privacy interests are being invaded in an essentially intolerable manner. Any broader view of this authority would effectively empower a majority to silence dissidents simply as a matter of personal predilections." Cohen v. California, supra, 403 U.S., at 21, 91 S.Ct., at 1786. I am in wholehearted agreement with my Brethren that an individual's right "to be let alone" when engaged in private activity within the confines of his own home is encompassed within the "substantial privacy interests" to which Mr. Justice Harlan referred in Cohen, and is entitled to the greatest solicitude. Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U.S. 557, 89 S.Ct. 1243, 22 L.Ed.2d 542 (1969). However, I believe th t an individual's actions in switching on

Page 765

and listening to communications transmitted over the public airways and directed to the public at large do not implicate fundamental privacy interests, even when engaged in within the home. Instead, because the radio is undeniably a public medium, these actions are more properly viewed as a decision to take part, if only as a listener, in an ongoing public discourse. See Note, Filthy Words, the FCC, and the First Amendment: Regulating Broadcast Obscenity, 61 Va.L.Rev. 579, 618 (1975). Although an individual's decision to allow public radio communications into his home undoubtedly does not abrogate all of his privacy interests, the residual privacy interests he retains vis-a-vis the communication he voluntarily admits into his home are surely no greater than those of the people present in the corridor of the Los Angeles courthouse in Cohen who bore witness to the words "Fuck the Draft" emblazoned across Cohen's jacket. Their privacy interests were held insufficient to justify punishing Cohen for his offensive communication.

          Even if an individual who voluntarily opens his home to radio communications retains privacy interests of sufficient moment to justify a ban on protected speech if those interests are "invaded in an essentially intolerable manner," Cohen v. California, supra, 403 U.S., at 21, 91 S.Ct., at 1786, the very fact that those interests are threatened only by a radio broadcast precludes any intolerable invasion of privacy; for unlike other intrusive modes of communication, such as sound trucks, "[t]he radio can be turned off," Lehman v. Shaker Heights, 418 U.S. 298, 302, 94 S.Ct. 2714, 2717, 41 L.Ed.2d 770 (1974)—and with a minimum of effort. As Chief Judge Bazelon aptly observed below, "having elected to receive public air waives, the scanner who stumbles onto an offensive program is in the same position as the unsuspecting passers-by in Cohen and Erznoznik [v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 45 L.Ed.2d 125 (1975)]; he can avert his attention by changing channels or turning off the set." 181 U.S.App.D.C. 132, 149, 556 F.2d 9, 26 (1977). Whatever the minimal discomfort suffered by a

Page 766

listener who inadvertently tunes into a program he finds offensive during the brief interval before he can simply extend his arm and switch stations or flick the "off" button, it is surely worth the candle to preserve the broadcaster's right to send, and the right of those interested to receive, a message entitled to full First Amendment protection. To reach a contrary balance, as does the Court, is clearly to follow Mr. Justice STEVENS' reliance on animal metaphors, ante, at 750-751, "to burn the house to roast the pig." Butler v. Michigan, 352 U.S. 380, 383, 77 S.Ct. 524, 526, 1 L.Ed.2d 412 (1957).

          The Court's balance, of necessity, fails to accord proper weight to the interests of listeners who wish to hear broadcasts the FCC deems offensive. It permits majoritarian tastes completely to preclude a protected message from entering the homes of a receptive, unoffended minority. No decision of this Court supports such a result. Where the individuals constituting the offended majority may freely choose to reject the material being offered, we have never found their privacy interests of such moment to warrant the suppression of speech on privacy grounds. Cf. Lehman v. Shaker Heights, supra. Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728, 90 S.Ct. 1484, 25 L.Ed.2d 736 (1970), relied on by the FCC and by the opinions of my Brothers POWELL and STEVENS, confirms rather than belies this conclusion. In Rowan, the Court upheld a statute, 39 U.S.C. § 4009 (1964 ed., Supp. IV), permitting householders to require that mail advertisers stop sending them lewd or offensive materials and remove their names from mailing lists. Unlike the situation here, householders who wished to receive the sender's communications were not prevented from doing so. Equally important, the de ermination of offensiveness vel non under the statute involved in Rowan was completely within the hands of the individual householder; no governmental evaluation of the worth of the mail's content stood between the mailer and the householder. In contrast, the visage of the censor is all too discernible here.

Page 767

B

          Most parents will undoubtedly find understandable as well as commendable the Court's sympathy with the FCC's desire to prevent offensive broadcasts from reaching the ears of unsupervised children. Unfortunately, the facial appeal of this justification for radio censorship masks its constitutional insufficiency. Although the government unquestionably has a special interest in the well-being of children and consequently "can adopt more stringent controls on communicative materials available to youths than on those available to adults," Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 212, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 2274, 45 L.Ed.2d 125 (1975); see Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U.S. 49, 106-107, 93 S.Ct. 2628, 2659-2660, 37 L.Ed.2d 446 (1973) (BRENNAN, J., dissenting), the Court has accounted for this societal interest by adopting a "variable obscenity" standard that permits the prurient appeal of material available to children to be assessed in terms of the sexual interests of minors. Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 20 L.Ed.2d 195 (1968). It is true that the obscenity standard the Ginsberg Court adopted for such materials was based on the then-applicable obscenity standard of Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957), and Memoirs v. Massachusetts, 383 U.S. 413, 86 S.Ct. 975, 16 L.Ed.2d 1 (1966), and that "[w]e have not had occasion to decide what effect Miller [v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419 (1973)] will have on the Ginsberg formulation." Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, supra, 422 U.S., at 213 n. 10, 95 S.Ct., at 2275. Nevertheless, we have made it abundantly clear that "under any test of obscenity as to minors . . . to be obscene 'such expression must be, in some significant way, erotic.' " 422 U.S., at 213 n. 10, 95 S.Ct., at 2275 n. 10, quoting Cohen v. California, 403 U.S., at 20, 91 S.Ct., at 1785.

          Because the Carlin monologue is obviously not an erotic appeal to the prurient interests of children, the Court, for the first time, allows the government to prevent minors from gaining access to materials that are not obscene, and are therefore protected, as to them.2 It thus ignores our recent admoni-

Page 768

tion that "[s]peech 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." 422 U.S., at 213-214, 95 S.Ct., at 2275.3 The Court's refusal to follow its own pronouncements is especially lamentable since it has the anomalous subsidiary effect, at least in the radio context at issue here, of making completely unavailable to adults material which may not constitutionally be kept even from children. This result violates in spades the principle of Butler v. Michigan, supra. Butler involved a challenge to a Michigan statute that forbade the publication, sale, or distribution of printed material "tending to incite minors to violent or depraved or immoral acts, manifestly tending to the corruption of the morals of youth." 352 U.S., at 381, 77 S.Ct., at 525. Although Roth v. United States, supra, had not yet been decided, it is at least arguable that the material the statute in Butler was designed to suppress could have been constitutionally denied to children. Nevertheless, this Court

Page 769

found the statute unconstitutional. Speaking for the Court, Mr. Justice Frankfurter reasoned:

                    "The incidence of this enactment is to reduce the adult population of Michigan to reading only what is fit for children. It thereby arbitrarily curtails one of those liberties of the individual, now enshrined in the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, that history has attested as the indispensable conditions for the maintenance and progress of a free society." 352 U.S., at 383-384, 77 S.Ct., at 526.

          Where, as here, the government may not prevent the exposure of minors to the suppressed material, the principle of Butler applies a fortiori. The opinion of my Brother POWELL acknowledges that there lurks in today's decision a potential for " 'reduc[ing] the adult population . . . to [hearing] only what is fit for children,' " ante, at 760, but expresses faith that the FCC will vigilantly prevent this potential from ever becoming a reality. I am far less certain than my Brother POWELL that such faith in the Commission is warranted, see Illinois Citizens Committee for Broadcasting v. FCC, 169 U.S.App.D.C. 166, 187-190, 515 F.2d 397, 418-421 (1975) (statement of Bazelon, C. J., as to why he voted to grant rehearing en banc); and even if I shared it, I could not so easily shirk the responsibility assumed by each Member of this Court jealously to guard against encroachments on First Amendment freedoms.

          In concluding that the presence of children in the listening audience provides an adequate basis for the FCC to impose sanctions for Pacifica's broadcast of the Carlin monologue, the opinions of my Brother POWELL, ante, at 757-758, and my Brother STEVENS, ante, at 749-750, both stress the time-honored right of a parent to raise his child as he sees fit—a right this Court has consistently been vigilant to protect. See Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U.S. 205, 92 S.Ct. 1526, 32 L.Ed.2d 15 (1972); Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 U.S. 510, 45 S.Ct. 571, 69 L.Ed. 1070 (1925). Yet this principle supports a

Page 770

result directly contrary to that reached by the Court. Yoder and Pierce hold that parents, not the government, have the right to make certain decisions regarding the upbringing of their children. As surprising as it may be to individual Members of this Court, some parents may actually find Mr. Carlin's unabashed attitude towards the seven "dirty words" healthy, and deem it desirable to expose their children to the manner in which Mr. Carlin defuses the taboo surrounding the words. Such parents may constitute a minority of the American public, but the absence of great numbers willing to exercise the right to raise their children in this fashion does not alter the right's nature or its existence. Only the Court's regrettable decision does that.4

C

          As demonstrated above, neither of the factors relied on by both the opinion of my Brother POWELL and the opinion of my Brother STEVENS—the intrusive nature of radio and the presence of children in the listening audience—can, when taken on its own terms, support the FCC's disapproval of the Carlin monologue. These two asserted justifications are further plagued by a common failing: the lack of principled limits on their use as a basis for FCC censorship. No such limits come readily to mind, and neither of the opinions constituting the Court serve to clarify the extent to which the FCC may assert the privacy and children-in-the-audience rationales as justification for expunging from the airways protected communications the Commission finds offensive. Taken to their logical extreme, these rationales would support the cleansing of public

Page 771

radio of any "four-letter words" whatsoever, regardless of their context. The rationales could justify the banning from radio of a myriad of literary works, novels, poems, and plays by the likes of Shakespeare, Joyce, Hemingway, Ben Jonson, Henry Fielding, Robert Burns, and Chaucer; they could support the suppression of a good deal of political speech, such as the Nixon tapes; and they could even provide the basis for imposing sanctions for the broadcast of certain portions of the Bible.5

          In order to dispel the specter of the possibility of so unpalatable a degree of censorship, and to defuse Pacifica's overbreadth challenge, the FCC insists that it desires only the authority to reprimand a broadcaster on facts analogous to those present in this case, which it describes as involving "broadcasting for nearly twelve minutes a record which repeated over and over words which depict sexual or excretory activities and organs in a manner patently offensive by its community's contemporary standards in the early afternoon when children were in the audience." Brief for Petitioner 45. The opinions of both my Brother POWELL and my Brother STEVENS take the FCC at its word, and consequently do no more than permit the Commission to censor the afternoon broadcast of the "sort of verbal shock treatment," opinion of Mr. Justice POWELL, ante, at 757, involved here. To insure that the FCC's regulation of protected speech does not exceed these bounds, my Brother POWELL is content to rely upon the judgment of the

Page 772

Commission while my Brother STEVENS deems it prudent to rely on this Court's ability accurately to assess the worth of various kinds of speech.6 For my own part, even accepting that this case is limited to its facts,7 I would place the responsibility and the right to weed worthless and offensive communications from the public airways where it belongs and where, until today, it resided: in a public free to choose those communications orthy of its attention from a marketplace unsullied by the censor's hand.

II

          The absence of any hesitancy in the opinions of my Brothers POWELL and STEVENS to approve the FCC's censorship of the Carlin monologue on the basis of two demonstrably inadequate grounds is a function of their perception that the decision will result in little, if any, curtailment of communicative exchanges protected by the First Amendment. Although the extent to

Page 773

which the Court stands ready to countenance FCC censorship of protected speech is unclear from today's decision, I find the reasoning by which my Brethren conclude that the FCC censorship they approve will not significantly infringe on First Amendment values both disingenuous as to reality and wrong as a matter of law.

          My Brother STEVENS, in reaching a result apologetically described as narrow, ante, at 750, takes comfort in his observation that "[a] requirement that indecent language be avoided will have its primary effect on the form, rather than the content, of serious communication," ante, at 743 n. 18, and finds solace in his conviction that "[t]here are few, if any, thoughts that cannot be expressed by the use of less offensive language." Ibid. The idea that the content of a message and its potential impact on any who might receive it can be divorced from the words that are the vehicle for its expression is transparently fallacious. A given word may have a unique capacity to capsule an idea, evoke an emotion, or conjure up an image. Indeed, for those of us who place an appropriately high value on our cherished First Amendment rights, the word "censor" is such a word. Mr. Justice Harlan, speaking for the Court, recognized the truism that a speaker's choice of words cannot surgically be separated from the ideas he desires to express when he warned that "we cannot indulge the facile assumption that one can forbid particular words without also running a substantial risk of suppressing ideas in the process." Cohen v. California, 403 U.S., at 26, 91 S.Ct., at 1788. Moreover, even if an alternative phrasing may communicate a speaker's abstract ideas as effectively as those words he is forbidden to use, it is doubtful that the sterilized message will convey the emotion that is an essential part of so many communications. This, too, was apparent to Mr. Justice Harlan and the Court in Cohen.

                    "[W]e cannot overlook the fact, because it is well illustrated by the episode involved here, that much linguistic expression serve a dual communicative function: it con-

Page 774

          veys not only ideas capable of relatively precise, detached explication, but otherwise inexpressible emotions as well. In fact, words are often chosen as much for their emotive as their cognitive force. We cannot sanction the view that the Constitution, while solicitous of the cognitive content of individual speech, has little or no regard for that emotive function which, practically speaking, may often be the more important element of the overall message sought to be communicated." Id., at 25-26, 91 S.Ct., at 1788.

          My Brother STEVENS also finds relevant to his First Amendment analysis the fact that "[a]dults who feel the need may purchase tapes and records or go to theaters and nightclubs to hear [the tabooed] words." Ante, at 750 n. 28. My Brother POWELL agrees: "The Commission's holding does not prevent willing adults from purchasing Carlin's record, from attending his performances, or, indeed, from reading the transcript reprinted as an appendix to the Court's opinion." Ante, at 760. The opinions of my Brethren display both a sad insensitivity to the fact that these alternatives involve the expenditure of money, time, and effort that many of those wishing to hear Mr. Carlin's message may not be able to afford, and a naive innocence of the reality that in many cases the medium may well be the message.

          The Court apparently believes that the FCC's actions here can be analogized to the zoning ordinances upheld in Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U.S. 50, 96 S.Ct. 2440, 49 L.Ed.2d 310 (1976). For two reasons, it is wrong. First, the zoning ordinances found to pass constitutional muster in Young had valid goals other than the channeling of protected speech. Id., 427 U.S., at 71 n. 34, 96 S.Ct., at 2453 (opinion of STEVENS, J.); id., at 80, 96 S.Ct., at 2457 (POWELL, J., concurring). No such goals are present here. Second, and crucial to the opinions of my Brothers POWELL and STEVENS in Young —opinions, which, as they do in this case, supply the bare five-person majority of the Court the ordinances did not restrict the access of distributors or exhibitors to the market or impair

Page 775

the viewing public's access to the regulated material. Id., at 62, 71 n. 35, 96 S.Ct., at 2453 (opinion of STEVENS, J.); id., at 77, 96 S.Ct., at 2455 (POWELL, J., concurring). Again, this is not the situation here. Both those desiring to receive Carlin's message over the radio and those wishing to send it to them are prevented from doing so by the Commission's actions. Although, as my Brethren point out, Carlin's message may be disseminated or received by other means, this is of little consolation to those broadcasters and listeners who, for a host of reasons, not least among them financial, do not have access to, or cannot take advantage of, these other means.

          Moreover, it is doubtful that even those frustrated listeners in a position to follow my Brother POWELL's gratuitous advice and attend one of Carlin's performances or purchase one of his records would receive precisely the same message Pacifica's radio station sent its audience. The airways are capable not only of carrying a message, but also of transforming it. A satirist's monologue may be most potent when delivered to a live audience; yet the choice whether this will in fact be the manner in which the message is delivered and received is one the First Amendment prohibits the government from making.

III

          It is quite evident that I find the Court's attempt to unstitch the warp and woof of First Amendment law in an effort to reshape its fabric to cover the patently wrong result the Court reaches in this case dangerous as well as lamentable. Yet there runs throughout the opinions of my Brothers POWELL and STEVENS another vein I find equally disturbing: a depressing inability to appreciate that in our land of cultural pluralism, there are many who think, act, and talk differently from the Members of this Court, and who do not share their fragile sensibilities. It is only an acute ethnocentric myopia that enables the Court to approve the censorship of communications solely because of the words they contain.

Page 776

            "A word is not a crystal, transparent and unchanged, it is the skin of a living thought and may vary greatly in color and content according to the circumstances and the time in which it is used." Towne v. Eisner, 245 U.S. 418, 425, 38 S.Ct. 158, 159, 62 L.Ed. 372 (1918) (Holmes, J.). The words that the Court and the Commission find so unpalatable may be the stuff of everyday conversations in some, if not many, of the innumerable subcultures that compose this Nation. Academic research indicates that this is indeed the case. See B. Jackson, "Get Your Ass in the Water and Swim Like Me" (1974); J. Dillard, Black English (1972); W. Labov, Language in the Inner City: Studies in the Black English Vernacular (1972). As one researcher concluded "[w]ords generally considered obscene like 'bullshit' and 'fuck' are considered neither obscene nor derogatory in the [black] vernacular except in particular contextual situations and when used with certain intonations." C. Bins, "Toward an Ethnography of Contemporary African American Oral Poetry," Language and Linguistics Working Papers No. 5, p. 82 (Georgetown Univ. Press 1972). Cf. Keefe v. Geanakos, 418 F.2d 359, 361 (CA1 1969) (finding the use of the word "motherfucker" commonplace among young radicals and protesters).

          Today's decision will thus have its greatest impact on broadcasters desiring to reach, and listening audiences composed of, persons who do not share the Court's view as to which words or expressions are acceptable and who, for a variety of reasons, including a conscious desire to flout majoritarian conventions, express themselves using words that may be regarded as offensive by those from different socio-economic backgrounds.8

Page 777

In this context, the Court's decision may be seen for what, in the broader perspective, it really is: another of the dominant culture's inevitable efforts to force those groups who do not share its mores to conform to its way of thinking, acting, and speaking. See Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U.S. 494, 506-511, 97 S.Ct. 1932, 1939-1942, 52 L.Ed.2d 531 (1977) (BRENNAN, J., concurring).

          Pacifica, in response to an FCC inquiry about its broadcast of Carlin's satire on " 'the words you couldn't say on the public . . . airwaves,' " explained that "Carlin is not mouthing obscenities, he is merely using words to satirize as harmless and essentially silly our attitudes towards those words." 56 F.C.C.2d, at 95, 96. In confirming Carlin's prescience as a social commentator by the result it reaches today, the Court evinces an attitude toward the "seven dirty words" that many others besides Mr. Carlin and Pacifica might describe as "silly." Whether today's decision will similarly prove "harmless" remains to be seen. One can only hope that it will.

           Mr. Justice STEWART, with whom Mr. Justice BRENNAN, Mr. Justice WHITE, and Mr. Justice MARSHALL join, dissenting.

          The Court today recognizes the wise admonition that we should "avoid the unnecessary decision of [constitutional] issues." Ante, at 734. But it disregards one important application of this salutary principle—the need to construe an Act of Congress so as to avoid, if possible, passing upon its constitutionality.1 It is apparent that the constitutional questions raised by the order of the Commission in this case are substantial.2 Before deciding them, we should be certain that it is necessary to do so.

Page 778

            The statute pursuant to which the Commission acted, 18 U.S.C. § 1464 (1976 ed.),3 makes it a federal offense to utter "any obscene, indecent, or profane language by means of radio communication." The Commission held, and the Court today agrees, that "indecent" is a broader concept than "obscene" as the latter term was defined in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419, because language can be "indecent" although it has social, political, or artistic value and lacks prurient appeal. 56 F.C.C.2d 94, 97-98.4 But this construction of § 1464, while perhaps plausible, is by no means compelled. To the contrary, I think that "indecent" should properly be read as meaning no more than "obscene." Since the Carlin monologue concededly was not "obscene," I believe that the Commission lacked statutory authority to ban it. Under this construction of the statute, it is unnecessary to address the difficult and important issue of the Commission's constitutional power to prohibit speech that

Page 779

would be constitutionally protected outside the context of electronic broadcasting.

          This Court has recently decided the meaning of the term "indecent" in a closely related statutory context. In Hamling v. United States, 418 U.S. 87, 94 S.Ct. 2887, 41 L.Ed.2d 590, the petitioner was convicted of violating 18 U.S.C. § 1461, which prohibits the mailing of "[e]very obscene, lewd, lascivious, indecent, filthy or vile article." The Court "construe[d] the generic terms in [§ 1461] to be limited to the sor of 'patently offensive representations or descriptions of that specific "hard core" sexual conduct given as examples in Miller v. California.' " 418 U.S., at 114, 94 S.Ct., at 2906, quoting United States v. 12 200-ft. Reels of Film, 413 U.S. 123, 130 n. 7, 93 S.Ct. 2665, 2670, 37 L.Ed.2d 500. Thus, the clear holding of Hamling is that "indecent" as used in § 1461 has the same meaning as "obscene" as that term was defined in the Miller case. See also Marks v. United States, 430 U.S. 188, 190, 97 S.Ct. 990, 992, 51 L.Ed.2d 260 (18 U.S.C. § 1465).

          Nothing requires the conclusion that the word "indecent" has any meaning in § 1464 other than that ascribed to the same word in § 1461.5 Indeed, although the legislative history is largely silent,6 such indications as there are support the view that §§ 1461 and 1464 should be construed similarly. The view that "indecent" means no more than "obscene" in § 1461 and similar statutes long antedated Hamling. See United States v. Bennett, 24 Fed.Cas. p. 1093 (No. 14,571) (CC SDNY 1879); Dunlop v. United States, 165 U.S. 486, 500-501, 17 S.Ct. 375, 380, 41 L.Ed. 799;

Page 780

Manual Enterprises v. Day, 370 U.S. 478, 482-484, 487, 82 S.Ct. 1432, 1434-1435, 1437, 8 L.Ed.2d 639 (opinion of Harlan, J.).7 And although §§ 1461 and 1464 were originally enacted separately, they were codified together in the Criminal Code of 1948 as part of a chapter entitled "Obscenity." There is nothing in the legislative history to suggest that Congress intended that the same word in two closely related sections should have different meanings. See H.R.Rep.No.304, 80th Cong., 1st Sess., A104-A106 (1947).

          I would hold, therefore, that Congress intended, by using the word "indecent" in § 1464, to prohibit nothing more than obscene speech.8 Under that reading of the statute, the Commission's order in this case was not authorized, and on that basis I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals.

1. 56 F.C.C.2d, at 99. The Commission noted:

"Congress has specifically empowered the FCC to (1) revoke a station's license (2) issue a cease and desist order, or (3) impose a monetary forfeiture for a violation of Section 1464, 47 U.S.C. [§§] 312(a), 312(b), 503(b)(1)(E). The FCC can also (4) deny license renewal or (5) grant a short term renewal, 47 U.S.C. [§§] 307, 308." Id., at 96 n. 3.

2. Broadcasting requires special treatment because of four important considerations: (1) children have access to radios and in many cases are unsupervised by parents; (2) radio receivers are in the home, a place where people's privacy interest is entitled to extra deference, see Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U.S. 728 [90 S.Ct. 1484, 25 L.Ed.2d 736] (1970); (3) unconsenting adults may tune in a station without any warning that offensive language is being or will be broadcast; and (4) there is a scarcity of spectrum space, the use of which the government must therefore license in the public interest. Of special concern to the Commission as well as parents is the first point regarding the use of radio by children." Id., at 97.

3. Title 18 U.S.C. § 1464 (1976 ed.) provides:

"Whoever utters any obscene, indecent, or profane language by means of radio communication shall be fined not more than $10,000 or imprisoned not more than two years, or both."

4. Section 303(g) of the Communications Act of 1934, 48 Stat. 1082, as amended, as set forth in 47 U.S.C. § 303(g), in relevant part, provides:

"Except as otherwise provided in this chapter, the Commission from time to time, as public convenience, interest, or necessity requires, shall—

* * * * *

"(g) . . . generally encourage the larger and more effective use of radio in the public interest."

5. Thus, the Commission suggested, if an offensive broadcast had literary, artistic, political, or scientific value, and were preceded by warnings, it might not be indecent in the late evening, but would be so during the day, when children are in the audience. 56 F.C.C.2d, at 98.

6. Chairman Wiley concurred in the result without joining the opinion. Commissioners Reid and Quello filed separate statements expressing the opinion that the language was inappropriate for broadcast at any time. Id., at 102-103. Commissioner Robinson, joined by Commissioner Hooks, filed a concurring statement expressing the opinion: "[W]e can regulate offensive speech to the extent it constitutes a public nuisance. . . . The governing idea is that 'indecency' is not an inherent attribute of words themselves; it is rather a matter of context and conduct. . . . If I were called on to do so, I would find that Carlin's monologue, if it were broadcast at an appropriate hour and accompanied by suitable warning, was distinguished by sufficient literary value to avoid being 'indecent' within the meaning of the statute." Id., at 107-108, and n. 9.

7. The Commission did, however comment:

" '[I]n some cases, public events likely to produce offensive speech are covered live, and there is no opportunity for journalistic editing.' Under these circumstances we believe that it would be inequitable for us to hold a licensee responsible for indecent language. . . . We trust that under such circumstances a licensee will exercise judgment, responsibility, and sensitivity to the community's needs, interests and tastes." 59 F.C.C.2d, at 893 n. 1.

8. "Nothing in this Act shall be understood or construed to give the Commission the power of censorship over the radio communications or signals transmitted by any radio station, and no regulation or condition shall be promulgated or fixed by the Commission which shall interfere with the right of free speech by means of radio communication." 48 Stat. 1091, 47 U.S.C. § 326.

9. Zechariah Chafee, defending the Commission's authority to take into account program service in granting licenses, interpreted the restriction on "censorship" narrowly: "This means, I feel sure, the sort of censorship which went on in the seventeenth century in England—the deletion of specific items and dictation as to what should go into particular programs." 2 Z. Chafee, Government and Mass Communications 641 (1947).

10. In KFKB Broadcasting Assn. v. Federal Radio Comm'n, 60 App.D.C. 79, 47 F.2d 670 (1931), a doctor who controlled a radio station as well as a pharmaceutical association made frequent broadcasts in which he answered the medical questions of listeners. He often prescribed mixtures prepared by his pharmaceutical association. The Commission determined that renewal of the station's license would not be in the public interest, convenience, or necessity because many of the broadcasts served the doctor's private interests. In response to the claim that this was censorship in violation of § 29 of the 1927 Act, the Court held:

"This contention is without merit. There has been no attempt on the part of the commission to subject any part of appellant's broadcasting matter to scrutiny prior to its release In considering the question whether the public interest, convenience, or necessity will be served by a renewal of appellant's license, the commission has merely exercised its undoubted right to take note of appellant's past conduct, which is not censorship." 60 App.D.C., at 81, 47 F.2d, at 672.

In Trinity Methodist Church, South v. Federal Radio Comm'n, 61 App.D.C. 311, 62 F.2d 850 (1932), cert. denied, 288 U.S. 599, 53 S.Ct. 317, 77 L.Ed. 975, the station was controlled by a minister whose broadcasts contained frequent references to "pimps" and "prostitutes" as well as bitter attacks on the Roman Catholic Church. The Commission refused to renew the license, citing the nature of the broadcasts. The Court of Appeals affirmed, concluding that First Amendment concerns did not prevent the Commission from regulating broadcasts that "offend the religious susceptibilities of thousands . . . or offend youth and innocence by the free use of words suggestive of sexual immorality." 61 App.D.C., at 314, 62 F.2d, at 853. The court recognized that the licensee had a right to broadcast this material free of prior restraint, but "this does not mean that the government, through agencies established by Congress, may not refuse a renewal of license to one who has abused it." Id., at 312, 62 F.2d, at 851.

11. See, e. g., Bay State Beacon, Inc. v. FCC, 84 U.S.App.D.C. 216, 171 F.2d 826 (1948); Idaho Microwave, Inc. v. FCC, 122 U.S.App.D.C. 253, 352 F.2d 729 (1965); National Assn. of Theatre Owners v. FCC, 136 U.S.App.D.C. 352, 420 F.2d 194 (1969), cert. denied, 397 U.S. 922, 90 S.Ct. 914, 25 L.Ed.2d 102.

12. See, e. g., 67 Cong.Rec. 12615 (1926) (remarks of Sen. Dill); id., at 5480 (remarks of Rep. White); 68 Cong.Rec. 2567 (1927) (remarks of Rep. Scott); Hearings on S.1 and S.1754 before the Senate Committee on Interstate Commerce, 69th Cong., 1st Sess., 121 (1926); Hearings on H.R.5589 before the House Committee on the Merchant Marine and Fisheries, 69th Cong., 1st Sess., 26 and 40 (1926). See also Hearings on H.R.8825 before the House Committee on the Merchant Marine and Fisheries, 70th Cong., 1st Sess., passim (1928).

13. In addition to § 1464, the Commission also relied on its power to regulate in the public interest under 47 U.S.C. § 303(g). We do not need to consider whether § 303 may have independent significance in a case such as this. The statutes authorizing civil penalties incorporate § 1464, a criminal statute. See 47 U.S.C. §§ 312(a)(6), 312(b)(2), and 503(b)(1)(E) (1970 ed. and Supp. V). But the validity of the civil sanctions is not linked to the validity of the criminal penalty. The legislative history of the provisions establishes their independence. As enacted in 1927 and 1934, the prohibition on indecent speech was separate from the provisions imposing civil and criminal penalties for violating the prohibition. Radio Act of 1927, §§ 14, 29, and 33, 44 Stat. 1168 and 1173; Communications Act of 1934, §§ 312, 326, and 501, 48 Stat. 1086, 1091, and 1100, 47 U.S.C. §§ 312, 326, and 501 (1970 ed. and Supp. V). The 1927 and 1934 Acts indicated in the strongest possible language that any invalid provision was separable from the rest of the Act. Radio Act of 1927, § 38, 44 Stat. 1174; Communications Act of 1934, § 608, 48 Stat. 1105, 47 U.S.C. § 608. Although the 1948 codification of the criminal laws and the addition of new civil penalties changed the statutory structure, no substantive change was apparently intended. Cf. Tidewater Oil Co. v. United States, 409 U.S. 151, 162, 93 S.Ct. 408, 415, 34 L.Ed.2d 375. Accordingly, we need not consider any question relating to the possible application of § 1464 as a criminal statute.

14. Webster defines the term as "a: altogether unbecoming: contrary to what the nature of things or what circumstances would dictate as right or expected or appropriate: hardly suitable: UNSEEMLY . . . b: not conforming to generally accepted standards of morality: . . . ." Webster's Third New International Dictionary (1966).

15. Indeed, at one point, he used "indecency" as a shorthand term for "patent offensiveness," 370 U.S., at 482, 82 S.Ct., at 1434, a usage strikingly similar to the Commission's definition in this case. 56 F.C.C.2d, at 98.

16. " '[W]hile a nudist magazine may be within the protection of the First Amendment . . . the televising of nudes might well raise a serious question of programing contrary to 18 U.S.C. § 1464 . . . . Similarly, regardless of whether the "4-letter words" and sexual description, set forth in "lady Chatterly's Lover," (when considered in the context of the whole book) make the book obscene for mailability purposes, the utterance of such words or the depiction of such sexual activity on radio or TV would raise similar public interest and section 1464 questions.' " Enbanc Programing Inquiry, 44 F.C.C. 2303, 2307 (1960). See also In re WUHY-FM, 24 F.C.C.2d 408, 412 (1970); In re Sonderling Broadcasting Corp., 27 R.R.2d 285, on reconsideration, 41 F.C.C.2d 777 (1973), aff'd on other grounds sub nom. Illinois Citizens Committee for Broadcasting v. FCC, 169 U.S.App.D.C. 166, 515 F.2d 397 (1974); In re Mile High Stations, Inc., 28 F.C.C. 795 (1960); In re Palmetto Broadcasting Co., 33 F.C C. 250 (1962), reconsideration denied, 34 F.C.C. 101 (1963), aff'd on other grounds sub nom. Robinson v. FCC, 118 U.S.App.D.C. 144, 334 F.2d 534 (1964), cert. denied, 379 U.S. 843, 85 S.Ct. 84, 13 L.Ed.2d 49.

17. This conclusion is reinforced by noting the different constitutional limits on Congress' power to regulate the two different subjects. Use of the postal power to regulate material that is not fraudulent or obscene raises "grave constitutional questions." Hannegan v. Esquire, Inc., 327 U.S. 146, 156, 66 S.Ct. 456, 461, 90 L.Ed. 586. But it is well settled that the First Amendment has a special meaning in the broadcasting context. See, e. g., FCC v. National Citizens Committee for Broadcasting, 436 U.S. 775, 98 S.Ct. 2096, 56 L.Ed.2d 697; Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 23 L.Ed.2d 371; Columbia Broadcasting System, Inc. v. Democratic National Committee, 412 U.S. 94, 93 S.Ct. 2080, 36 L.Ed.2d 772. For this reason, the presumption that Congress never intends to exceed constitutional limits, which supported Hamling's narrow reading of § 1461, does not support a comparable reading of § 1464.

18. A requirement that indecent language be avoided will have its primary effect on the form, rather than the content, of serious communication. There are few, if any, thoughts that cannot be expressed by the use of less offensive language.

19. Pacifica's position would, of course, deprive the Commission of any power to regulate erotic telecasts unless they were obscene under Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419. Anything that could be sold at a newsstand for private examination could be publicly displayed on television.

We are assured by Pacifica that the free play of market forces will discourage indecent programming. "Smut may," as Judge Leventhal put it, "drive itself from the market and confound Gresham," 181 U.S.App.D.C., at 158, 556 F.2d, at 35; the prosperity of those who traffic in pornographic literature and films would appear to justify skepticism.

20. Although neither Mr. Justice POWELL nor Mr. Justice BRENNAN directly confronts this question, both have answered it affirmatively, the latter explicitly, post, at 768 n. 3, and the former implicitly by concurring in a judgment that could not otherwise stand.

21. See, e. g., Madison School District v. Wisconsin Employment Relations Comm'n, 429 U.S. 167, 175-176, 97 S.Ct. 421, 426, 50 L.Ed.2d 376; First National Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U.S. 765, 98 S.Ct. 1407, 55 L.Ed.2d 707.

22. The monologue does present a point of view; it attempts to show that the words it uses are "harmless" and that our attitudes toward them are "essentially silly." See supra, at 730. The Commission objects, not to this point of view, but to the way in which it is expressed. The belief that these words are harmless does not necessarily confer a First Amendment privilege to use them while proselytizing, just as the conviction that obscenity is harmless does not license one to communicate that conviction by the indiscriminate distribution of an obscene leaflet.

23. The Commission stated: "Obnoxious, gutter language describing these matters has the effect of debasing and brutalizing human beings by reducing them to their mere bodily functions . . . ." 56 F.C.C.2d, at 98. Our society has a tradition of performing certain bodily functions in private, and of severely limiting the public exposure or discussion of such matters. Verbal or physical acts exposing those intimacies are offensive irrespective of any message that may accompany the exposure.

24. With respect to other types of speech, the Court has tailored its protection to both the abuses and the uses to which it might be put. See, e. g., New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (special scienter rules in libel suits brought by public officials); Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, 433 U.S. 350, 97 S.Ct. 2691, 53 L.Ed.2d 810 (government may strictly regulate truthfulness in commercial speech). See also Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U.S. 50, 82 n. 6, 96 S.Ct. 2440, 2458, 49 L.Ed.2d 310 (POWELL, J., concurring).

25. The importance of context is illustrated by the Cohen case. That case arose when Paul Cohen entered a Los Angeles courthouse wearing a jacket emblazoned with the words "Fuck the Draft." After entering the courtroom, he took the jacket off and folded it. 403 U.S., at 19 n. 3, 91 S.Ct., at 1785. So far as the evidence showed, no one in the courthouse was offended by his jacket. Nonetheless, when he left the courtroom, Cohen was arrested, convicted of disturbing the peace, and sentenced to 30 days in prison.

In holding that criminal sanctions could not be imposed on Cohen for his political statement in a public place, the Court rejected the argument that his speech would offend unwilling viewers; it noted that "there was no evidence that persons powerless to avoid [his] conduct did in fact object to it." Id., at 22, 91 S.Ct., at 1786. In contrast, in this case the Commission was responding to a listener's strenuous complaint, and Pacifica does not question its determination that this afternoon broadcast was likely to offend listeners. It should be noted that the Commission imposed a far more moderate penalty on Pacifica than the state court imposed on Cohen. Even the strongest civil penalty at the Commission's command does not include criminal prosecution. See n. 1, supra.

26. 47 U.S.C. §§ 309(a), 312(a)(2); FCC v. WOKO, Inc., 329 U S. 223, 229, 67 S.Ct. 213, 216, 91 L.Ed. 204. Cf. Shuttlesworth v. Birmingham, 394 U.S. 147, 89 S.Ct. 935, 22 L.Ed.2d 162; Staub v. Baxley, 355 U.S. 313, 78 S.Ct. 277, 2 L.Ed.2d 302.

27. Outside the home, the balance between the offensive speaker and the unwilling audience may sometimes tip in favor of the speaker, requiring the offended listener to turn away. See Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 45 L.Ed.2d 125. As we noted in Cohen v. California:

"While this Court has recognized that government may properly act in many situations to prohibit intrusion into the privacy of the home of unwelcome views and ideas which cannot be totally banned from the public dialogue . . . , we have at the same time consistently stressed that 'we are often "captives" outside the sanctuary of the home and subject to objectionable speech.' " 403 U.S., at 21, 91 S.Ct., at 1786.

The problem of harassing phone calls is hardly hypothetical. Congress has recently found it necessary to prohibit debt collectors from "plac[ing] telephone calls without meaningful disclosure of the caller's identity"; from "engaging any person in telephone conversation repeatedly or continuously with intent to annoy, abuse, or harass any person at the called number"; and from "us[ing] obscene or profane language or language the natural consequence of which is to abuse the hearer or reader." Consumer Credit Protection Act Amendments, 91 Stat. 877, 15 U.S.C. § 169 2d (1976 ed., Supp. II).

28. The Commission's action does not by any means reduce adults to hearing only what is fit for children. Cf. Butler v. Michigan, 352 U.S. 380, 383, 77 S.Ct. 524, 526, 1 L.Ed.2d 412. Adults who feel the need may purchase tapes and records or go to theaters and nightclubs to hear these words. In fact, the Commission has not unequivocally closed even broadcasting to speech of this sort; whether broadcast audiences in the late evening contain § few children that playing this monologue would be permissible is an issue neither the Commission nor this Court has decided.

29. Even a prime-time recitation of Geoffrey Chaucer's Miller's Tale would not be likely to command the attention of many children who are both old enough to understand and young enough to be adversely affected by passages such as: "And prively he caughte hire by the queynte." The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer's Complete Works (Cambridge ed. 1933), p. 58, l. 3276:

1. See generally Judge Leventhal's thoughtful opinion in the Court of Appeals. 181 U.S.App.D.C. 132, 155-158, 556 F.2d 9, 32-35 (1977) (dissenting opinion).

2. It is true that the radio listener quickly may tune out speech that is offensive to him. In addition, broadcasters may preface potentially offensive programs with warnings. But such warnings do not help the unsuspecting listener who tunes in at the middle of a program. In this respect, too, broadcasting appears to differ from books and records, which may carry warnings on their face, and from motion pictures and live performances, which may carry warnings on their marquees.

3. The Court has, however, created a limited exception to this rule in order to bring commercial speech within the protection of the First Amendment. See Ohralik v. Ohio State Bar Assn., 436 U.S. 447, 455-456, 98 S.Ct. 1912, 1918-1919, 56 L.Ed.2d 444 (1978).

4. For much the same reason, I also do not join Part IV-A. I had not thought that the application vel non of overbreadth analysis should depend on the Court's judgment as to the value of the protected speech that might be deterred. Cf. ante, at 3037. Except in the context of commercial speech, see Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, 433 U.S. 350, 380-381, 97 S.Ct. 2691, 2707-2708, 53 L.Ed.2d 810 (1977), it has not in the past. See, e. g., Lewis v. New Orleans, 415 U.S. 130, 94 S.Ct. 970, 39 L.Ed.2d 214 (1974); Gooding v. Wilson, 405 U.S. 518, 92 S.Ct. 1103, 31 L.Ed.2d 408 (1972).

As Mr. Justice STEVENS points out, however, ante, at 734, the Commission's order was limited to the facts of this case; "it did not purport to engage in formal rulemaking or in the promulgation of any regulations." In addition, since the Commission may be expected to proceed cautiously, as it has in the past, cf. Brief for Petitioner 42-43, and n. 31, I do not foresee an undue "chilling" effect on broadcasters' exercise of their rights. I agree, therefore, that respondent's overbreadth challenge is meritless.

1. Where I refer without differentiation to the actions of "the Court," my reference is to this majority, which consists of my Brothers POWELL and STEVENS and those Members of the Court joining their separate opinions.

2. Even if the monologue appealed to the prurient interest of minors, it would not be obscene as to them unless, as to them, "the work, taken as a whole, lacks serio § literary, artistic, political, or scientific value." Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 24, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 2615, 37 L.Ed.2d 419 (1973).

3. It may be that a narrowly drawn regulation prohibiting the use of offensive language on broadcasts directed specifically at younger children constitutes one of the "other legitimate proscription[s]" alluded to in Erznoznik. This is so both because of the difficulties inherent in adapting the Miller formulation to communications received by young children, and because such children are "not possessed of that full capacity for individual choice which is the presupposition of the First Amendment guarantees." Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 649-650, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 1286, 20 L.Ed.2d 195 (1968) (STEWART, J., concurring). I doubt, as my Brother STEVENS suggests, ante, at 745 n. 20, that such a limited regulation amounts to a regulation of speech based on its content, since, by hypothesis, the only persons at whom the regulated communication is directed are incapable of evaluating its content. To the extent that such a regulation is viewed as a regulation based on content, it marks the outermost limits to which content regulation is permissible.

4. The opinions of my Brothers POWELL and STEVENS rightly refrain from relying on the notion of "spectrum scarcity" to support their result. As Chief Judge Bazelon noted below, "although scarcity has justified increasing the diversity of speakers and speech, it has never been held to justify censorship." 181 U.S.App.D.C., at 152, 556 F.2d, at 29 (emphasis in original). See Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 396, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 1809, 23 L.Ed.2d 371 (1969).

5. See, e. g., I Samuel 25:22: "So and more also do God unto the enemies of David, if I leave of all that pertain to him by the morning light any that pisseth against the wall"; II Kings 18:27 and Isaiah 36:12: "[H]ath he not sent me to the men which sit on the wall, that they may eat their own dung, and drink their own piss with you?"; Ezekiel 23:3: "And they committed whoredoms in Egypt; they committed whoredoms in their youth; there were their breasts pressed, and there they bruised the teats of their virginity."; Ezekiel 23:21: "Thus thou calledst to remembrance the lewdnes of thy youth, in bruising thy teats by the Egyptians for the paps of thy youth." The Holy Bible (King James Version) (Oxford 1897).

6. Although ultimately dependent upon the outcome of review in this Court, the approach taken by my Brother STEVENS would not appear to tolerate the FCC's suppression of any speech, such as political speech, falling within the core area of First Amendment concern. The same, however, cannot be said of the approach taken by my Brother POWELL, which, on its face, permits the Commission to censor even political speech if it is sufficiently offensive to community standards. A result more contrary to rudimentary First Amendment principles is difficult to imagine.

7. Having insisted that it seeks to impose sanctions on radio communications only in the limited circumstances present here, I believe that the FCC is estopped from using either this decision or its own orders in this case, 56 F.C.C.2d 94 (1975) and 59 F.C.C.2d 892 (1976), as a basis for imposing sanctions on any public radio broadcast other than one aired during the daytime or early evening and containing the relentless repetition, for longer than a brief interval, of "language that describes, in terms patently offensive as measured by contemporary community standards for the broadcast medium, sexual or excretory activities and organs." 56 F.C.C.2d, at 98. For surely broadcasters are not now on notice that the Commission desires to regulate any offensive broadcast other than the type of "verbal shock treatment" condemned here, or even this "shock treatment" type of offensive broadcast during the late evening.

8. Under the approach taken by my Brother POWELL, the availability of broadcasts about groups whose members constitute such audiences might also be affected. Both news broadcasts about activities involving these groups and public affairs broadcasts about their concerns are apt to contain interviews, statements, or remarks by group leaders and members which may contain offensive language to an extent my Brother POWELL finds unacceptable.

1. See, e.g., Johnson v. Robison, 415 U.S. 361, 366-367, 94 S.Ct. 1160, 1165-1166, 39 L.Ed.2d 389; United States v. Thirty-seven Photographs, 402 U.S. 363, 369, 91 S.Ct. 1400, 1404, 28 L.Ed.2d 822; Rescue Army v. Municipal Court, 331 U.S. 549, 569, 67 S.Ct. 1409, 1419-1420, 91 L.Ed. 1666; Ashwander v. TVA, 297 U.S. 288, 348, 56 S.Ct. 466, 483, 80 L.Ed. 688 (Brandeis, J., concurring); Crowell v. Benson, 285 U.S. 22, 62, 52 S.Ct. 285, 296, 76 L.Ed. 598.

2. The practice of construing a statute to avoid a constitutional confrontation is followed whenever there is " 'a serious doubt' " as to the statute's constitutionality. E. g., United States v. Rumely, 345 U.S. 41, 45, 73 S.Ct. 543, 545, 97 L.Ed. 770; Blodgett v. Holden, 275 U.S. 142, 148, 48 S.Ct. 105, 107, 72 L.Ed. 206 (opinion of Holmes, J.). Thus, the Court has construed a statute to avoid raising a doubt as to its constitutionality even though the Court later in effect held that the statute, otherwise construed, would have been constitutionally valid. Compare General Motors Corp. v. District of Columbia, 380 U.S. 553, 85 S.Ct. 1156, 14 L.Ed.2d 68, with Moorman Mfg. Co. v. Bair, 437 U.S. 267, 98 S.Ct. 2340, 57 L.Ed.2d 197.

3. The Court properly gives no weight to the Commission's passing reference in its order to 47 U.S.C. § 303(g). Ante, at 739 n. 13. For one thing, the order clearly rests only upon the Commission's interpretation of the term "indecent" in § 1464; the attempt by the Commission in this Court to assert that § 303(g) was an independent basis for its action must fail. Cf. SEC v. Chenery Corp., 318 U.S. 80, 94-95, 63 S.Ct. 454, 462-463, 87 L.Ed. 626; SEC v. Sloan, 436 U.S. 103, 117-118, 98 S.Ct. 1702, 1711-1712, 56 L.Ed.2d 148. Moreover, the general language of § 303(g) cannot be used to circumvent the terms of a specific statutory mandate such as that of § 1464. "[T]he Commission's power in this respect is limited by the scope of the statute. Unless the [language] involved here [is] illegal under § [1464], the Commission cannot employ the statute to make [it] so by agency action." FCC v. American Broadcasting Co., 347 U.S. 284, 290, 74 S.Ct. 593, 597, 98 L.Ed. 699.

4. The Commission did not rely on § 1464's prohibition of "profane" language, and it is thus unnecessary to consider the scope of that term.

5. The only Federal Court of Appeals (apart from this case) to consider the question has held that " 'obscene' and 'indecent' in § 1464 are to be read as parts of a single proscription, applicable only if the challenged language appeals to the prurient interest." United States v. Simpson, 561 F.2d 53, 60 (CA7).

6. Section 1464 originated as part of § 29 of the Radio Act of 1927, 44 Stat. 1172, which was re-enacted as § 326 of the Communications Act of 1934, 48 Stat. 1091. Neither the committee reports nor the floor debates contain any discussion of the meaning of "obscene, indecent or profane language."

7. When the Federal Communications Act was amended in 1968 to prohibit "obscene, lewd, lascivious, filthy, or indecent" telephone calls, 82 Stat. 112, 47 U.S.C. § 223, the FCC itself indicated that it thought this language covered only "obscene" telephone calls. See H.R.Rep.No.1109, 90th Cong., 2d Sess., 7-8 (1968), U.S.Code Cong. & Admin.News 1968, p. 1915.

8. This construction is further supported by the general rule of lenity in construing criminal statutes. See Adamo Wrecking Co. v. United States, 434 U.S. 275, 285, 98 S.Ct. 566, 573, 54 L.Ed.2d 538. The Court's statement that it need not consider the meaning § 1464 would have in a criminal prosecution, ante, at 739 n. 13, is contrary to settled precedent:

"It is true . . . that these are not criminal cases, but it is a criminal statute that we must interpret. There cannot be one construction for the Federal Communications Commission and another for the Department of Justice. If we should give § [1464] the broad construction urged by the Commission, the same construction would likewise apply in criminal cases." FCC v. American Broadcasting Co., supra, 347 U.S., at 296, 74 S.Ct., at 600.

15.25 National Ass'n for the Advancement of Colored People v. Claiborne Hardware Co. 15.25 National Ass'n for the Advancement of Colored People v. Claiborne Hardware Co.

NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF COLORED PEOPLE et al. v. CLAIBORNE HARDWARE CO. et al.

No. 81-202.

Argued March 3, 1982 —

Decided July 2, 1982

*888Stevens, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Burger, C. J., and Brennan, White, Blackmun, Powell, and O’Connor, JJ., joined. Rehnquist, J., concurred in the result. Marshall, J., took no part in the consideration or decision of the case.

Lloyd N. Cutler argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs were James Robertson, Edward Tynes Hand, William R. Richardson, Jr., John Payton, Thomas I. Atkins, Charles E. Carter, William L. Robinson, and Frank R. Parker.

Grover Rees III argued the cause for respondents. With him on the briefs were Crane D. Kipp, Christopher J. Walker, and Dixon L. Pyles*

Justice Stevens

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The term “concerted action” encompasses unlawful conspiracies and constitutionally protected assemblies. The “looseness and pliability” of legal doctrine applicable to concerted action led Justice Jackson to note that certain joint activities have a “chameleon-like” character.1 The boycott of white merchants in Claiborne County, Miss., that gave rise to this litigation had such a character; it included elements of criminality and elements of majesty. Evidence that fear of reprisals caused some black citizens to withhold their patronage from respondents’ businesses convinced the Supreme Court of Mississippi that the entire boycott was unlawful and that each of the 92 petitioners was liable for all of its economic consequences. Evidence that persuasive rhetoric, determination to remedy past injustices, and a host of voluntary decisions by free citizens were the critical *889factors in the boycott’s success presents us with the question whether the state court’s judgment is consistent with the Constitution of the United States.

I — I

In March 1966, black citizens of Port Gibson, Miss., and other areas of Claiborne County presented white elected officials with a list of particularized demands for racial equality and integration.2 The complainants did not receive a satisfactory response and, at a local National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) meeting at the First Baptist Church, several hundred black persons voted to place a boycott on white merchants in the area. On October 31, 1969, several of the merchants filed suit in state court to recover losses caused by the boycott and to enjoin future boycott activity. We recount first the course of that litigation and then consider in more detail the events that gave rise to the merchants’ claim for damages.

A

The complaint was filed in the Chancery Court of Hinds County by 17 white merchants.3 The merchants named two corporations and 146 individuals as defendants: the NAACP, a New York membership corporation; Mississippi Action for Progress (MAP), a Mississippi corporation that im*890plemented the federal “Head Start” program; Aaron Henry, the President of the Mississippi State Conference of the NAACP; Charles Evers, the Field Secretary of the NAACP in Mississippi; and 144 other individuals who had participated in the boycott.4 The complaint sought injunctive relief and an attachment of property, as well as damages. Although it alleged that the plaintiffs were suffering irreparable injury from an ongoing conspiracy, no preliminary relief was sought.

Trial began before a chancellor in equity on June 11, 1973.5 The court heard the testimony of 144 witnesses during an 8-month trial. In August 1976, the chancellor issued an opinion and decree finding that “an overwhelming preponderance of the evidence” established the joint and several liability of *891130 of the defendants on three separate conspiracy theories.6 First, the court held that the defendants were liable for the tort of malicious interference with the plaintiffs’ businesses, which did not necessarily require the presence of a conspiracy.7 Second, the chancellor found a violation of a state *892statutory prohibition against secondary boycotts, on the theory that the defendants’ primary dispute was with the governing authorities of Port Gibson and Claiborne County and not with the white merchants at whom the boycott was directed.8 Third, the court found a violation of Mississippi’s antitrust statute, on the ground that the boycott had diverted black patronage from the white merchants to black merchants and to other merchants located out of Claiborne County and thus had unreasonably limited competition between black and white merchants that had traditionally existed.9 The chancellor specifically rejected the defendants’ claim that their conduct was protected by the First Amendment.10

*893Five of the merchants offered no evidence of business losses. The chancellor found that the remaining 12 had suffered lost business earnings and lost goodwill during a 7-year period from 1966 to 1972 amounting to $944,699. That amount, plus statutory antitrust penalties of $6,000 and a $300,000 award of attorney’s fees, produced a final judgment of $1,250,699, plus interest from the date of judgment and costs. As noted, the chancellor found all but 18 of the original 148 defendants jointly and severally liable for the entire judgment. The court justified imposing full liability on the national organization of the NAACP on the ground that it had failed to “repudiate” the actions of Charles Evers, its Field Secretary in Mississippi.

In addition to imposing damages liability, the chancellor entered a broad permanent injunction. He permanently enjoined petitioners from stationing “store watchers” at the respondents’ business premises; from “persuading” any person to withhold his patronage from respondents; from “using demeaning and obscene language to or about any person” because that person continued to patronize the respondents; from “picketing or patroling” the premises of any of the respondents; and from using violence against any person or inflicting damage to any real or personal property.11

*894In December 1980, the Mississippi Supreme Court reversed significant portions of the trial court’s judgment. 393 So. 2d 1290. It held that the secondary boycott statute was inapplicable because it had not been enacted until “the boycott had been in operation for upward of two years.”12 The court declined to rely on the restraint of trade statute, noting that the “United States Supreme Court has seen fit to hold boycotts to achieve political ends are not a violation of the Sherman Act, 15 U. S. C. § 1 (1970), after which our statute is patterned.”13 Thus, the court rejected two theories of liability that were consistent with a totally voluntary and nonviolent withholding of patronage from the white merchants.

The Mississippi Supreme Court upheld the imposition of liability, however, on the basis of the chancellor’s common-law tort theory. After reviewing the chancellor’s recitation of the facts, the court quoted the following finding made by the trial court:

“In carrying out the agreement and design, certain of the defendants, acting for all others, engaged in acts of physical force and violence against the persons and property of certain customers and prospective customers. Intimidation, threats, social ostracism, vilification, and traduction were some of the devices used by the defendants to achieve the desired results. Most effective, also, was the stationing of guards (‘enforcers,’ ‘deacons,’ or ‘black hats’) in the vicinity of white-owned businesses. Unquestionably, the evidence shows that the volition of many black persons was overcome out of sheer fear, and they were forced and compelled against their personal wills to withhold their trade and business intercourse *895from the complainants.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 39b (quoted 393 So. 2d, at 1300).

On the basis of this finding, the court concluded that the entire boycott was unlawful. “If any of these factors — force, violence, or threats — is present, then the boycott is illegal regardless of whether it is primary, secondary, economical, political, social or other.”14 In a brief passage, the court rejected petitioners’ reliance on the First Amendment:

“The agreed use of illegal force, violence, and threats against the peace to achieve a goal makes the present state of facts a conspiracy. We know of no instance, and our attention has been drawn to no decision, wherein it has been adjudicated that free speech guaranteed by the First Amendment includes in its protection the right to commit crime.” Id,., at 1301.

The theory of the Mississippi Supreme Court, then, was that petitioners had agreed to use force, violence, and “threats” to effectuate the boycott.15 To the trial court, such a finding had not been necessary.16

Although the Mississippi Supreme Court affirmed the chancellor’s basic finding of liability, the court held that re*896spondents “did not establish their case” with respect to 38 of the defendants.17 The court found that MAP was a victim, rather than a willing participant, in the conspiracy and dismissed — without further explanation — 37 individual defendants for lack of proof. Finally, the court ruled that certain damages had been improperly awarded and that other damages had been inadequately proved. The court remanded for further proceedings on the computation of damages.18

We granted a petition for certiorari. 454 U. S. 1030. At oral argument, a question arose concerning the factual basis for the judgment of the Mississippi Supreme Court. As noted, that court affirmed petitioners’ liability for damages on the ground that each of the petitioners had agreed to effectuate the boycott through force, violence, and threats. Such a finding was not necessary to the trial court’s imposition of liability and neither state court had identified the evidence actually linking the petitioners to such an agreement. In response to a request from this Court, respondents filed a supplemental brief “specifying the acts committed by each of the petitioners giving rise to liability for damages.” Supplemental Brief for Respondents 1. That brief helpfully places the petitioners in different categories; we accept respondents’ framework for analysis and identify these classes as a preface to our review of the relevant incidents that occurred during the 7-year period for which damages were assessed.19

*897First, respondents contend that liability is justified by evidence of participation in the “management” of the boycott.20 Respondents identify two groups of persons who may be found liable as “managers”: 79 individuals who regularly attended Tuesday night meetings of the NAACP at the First Baptist Church; and 11 persons who took “leadership roles” at those meetings.21

Second, respondents contend that liability is justified by evidence that an individual acted as a boycott “enforcer.”22 In this category, respondents identify 22 persons as members of the “Black Hats” — a special group organized during the boycott — and 19 individuals who were simply “store watchers.”

Third, respondents argue that those petitioners “who themselves engaged in violent acts or who threatened violence have provided the best possible evidence that they wanted the boycott to succeed by coercion whenever it could not succeed by persuasion.” Id., at 10. They identify 16 in*898dividuals for whom there is direct evidence of participation in what respondents characterize as violent acts or threats of violence.

Fourth, respondents contend that Charles Evers may be held liable because he “threatened violence on a number of occasions against boycott breakers.” Id., at 13. Like the chancellor, respondents would impose liability on the national NAACP because Evers “was acting in his capacity as Field Secretary of the NAACP when he committed these tortious and constitutionally unprotected acts.” Ibid.

Finally, respondents state that they are “unable to determine on what record evidence the state courts relied in finding liability on the part of seven of the petitioners.” Id., at 16. With these allegations of wrongdoing in mind, we turn to consider the factual events that gave rise to this controversy.

B

The chancellor held petitioners liable for all of respondents’ lost earnings during a 7-year period from 1966 to December 31, 1972. We first review chronologically the principal events that occurred during that period, describe some features of the boycott that are not in dispute, and then identify the most significant evidence of violent activity.

In late 1965 or early 1966, Charles Evers, the Field Secretary of the NAACP, helped organize the Claiborne County Branch of the NAACP. The pastor of the First Baptist Church, James Dorsey, was elected president of the Branch; regular meetings were conducted each Tuesday evening at the church. At about the same time, a group of black citizens formed a Human Relations Committee and presented a petition for redress of grievances to civic and business leaders of the white community. In response, a biracial committee — including five of the petitioners and several of the respondents — was organized and held a series of unproductive meetings.

The black members of the committee then prepared a further petition entitled “Demands for Racial Justice. ” This pe*899tition was presented for approval at the local NAACP meeting conducted on the first Tuesday evening in March. As described by the chancellor, “the approximately 500 people present voted their approval unanimously.”23 On March 14, 1966, the petition was presented to public officials of Port Gibson and Claiborne County.

The petition included 19 specific demands. It called for the desegregation of all public schools and public facilities, the hiring of black policemen, public improvements in black residential areas, selection of blacks for jury duty, integration of bus stations so that blacks could use all facilities, and an end to verbal abuse by law enforcement officers. It stated that “Negroes are not to be addressed by terms as ‘boy/ ‘girl/ ‘shine/ ‘uncle/ or any other offensive term, but as ‘Mr./ ‘Mrs./ or ‘Miss,’ as is the case with other citizens.”24 As described by the chancellor, the purpose of the demands “was to gain equal rights and opportunities for Negro citizens.”25 The petition further provided that black leaders hoped it would not be necessary to resort to the “selective buying campaigns” that had been used in other communities.26 On March 23, two demands that had been omitted *900from the original petition were added, one of which provided: “All stores must employ Negro clerks and cashiers.”27 This supplemental petition stated that a response was expected by April 1.

A favorable response was not received. On April 1, 1966, the Claiborne County NAACP conducted another meeting at the First Baptist Church. As described by the chancellor:

“Several hundred black people attended the meeting, and the purpose was to decide what action should be taken relative to the twenty-one demands. Speeches were made by Evers and others, and a vote was taken. It was the unanimous vote of those present, without dissent, to place a boycott on the white merchants of Port Gibson and Claiborne County.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 15b.

The boycott was underway.28

In September 1966, Mississippi Action for Progress, Inc. (MAP), was organized to develop community action programs in 20 counties of Mississippi. One of MAP’s programs— known as Head Start — involved the use of federal funds to provide food for young children. Originally, food purchases in Claiborne County were made alternately from white-owned and black-owned stores, but in February 1967 the di*901rectors of MAP authorized their Claiborne County representatives to purchase food only from black-owned stores. Since MAP bought substantial quantities of food, the consequences of this decision were significant. A large portion of the trial was devoted to the question whether MAP participated in the boycott voluntarily and — under the chancellor’s theories of liability — could be held liable for the resulting damages. The chancellor found MAP a willing participant, noting that “during the course of the trial, the only Head Start cooks called to the witness stand testified that they refused to go into white-owned stores to purchase groceries for the children in the program for the reason that they were in favor of the boycott and wanted to honor it.,,29

Several events occurred during the boycott that had a strong effect on boycott activity. On February 1, 1967, Port Gibson employed its first black policeman. During that month, the boycott was lifted on a number of merchants. On April 4, 1968, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated in Memphis. The chancellor found that this tragic event had a depressing effect on the black community and, as a result, the boycott “tightened.”30

*902One event that occurred during the boycott is of particular significance. On April 18, 1969, a young black man named Roosevelt Jackson was shot and killed during an encounter with two Port Gibson police officers.31 Large crowds immediately gathered, first at the hospital and later at the church. Tension in the community neared a breaking point. The local police requested reinforcements from the State Highway Patrol and sporadic acts of violence ensued. The Mayor and Board of Aldermen placed a dawn-to-dusk curfew into effect.

On April 19, Charles Evers spoke to a group assembled at the First Baptist Church and led a march to the courthouse where he demanded the discharge of the entire Port Gibson Police Force. When this demand was refused, the boycott was reimposed on all white merchants. One of Evers’ speeches on this date was recorded by the police. In that speech — significant portions of which are reproduced in an Appendix to this opinion — Evers stated that boycott violators would be “disciplined” by their own people and warned that the Sheriff could not sleep with boycott violators at night.

On April 20, Aaron Henry came to Port Gibson, spoke to a large gathering, urged moderation, and joined local leaders in a protest march and a telegram sent to the Attorney General of the United States. On April 21, Evers gave another speech to several hundred people, in which he again called for a discharge of the police force and for a total boycott of all white-owned businesses in Claiborne County. Although this speech was not recorded, the chancellor found that Evers stated: “If we catch any of you going in any of them racist stores, we’re gonna break your damn neck.”32

As noted, this lawsuit was filed in October 1969. No significant events concerning the boycott occurred after that *903time. The chancellor identified no incident of violence that occurred after the suit was brought. He did identify, however, several significant incidents of boycott-related violence that occurred some years earlier.

Before describing that evidence, it is appropriate to note that certain practices generally used to encourage support for the boycott were uniformly peaceful and orderly. The few marches associated with the boycott were carefully controlled by black leaders. Pickets used to advertise the boycott were often small children. The police made no arrests — and no complaints are recorded — in connection with the picketing and occasional demonstrations supporting the boycott. Such activity was fairly irregular, occurred primarily on weekends, and apparently was largely discontinued around the time the lawsuit was filed.33

One form of “discipline” of black persons who violated the boycott appears to have been employed with some regularity. Individuals stood outside of boycotted stores and identified those who traded with the merchants. Some of these “store watchers” were members of a group known as the “Black Hats” or the “Deacons.”34 The names of persons who vio*904lated the boycott were read at meetings of the Claiborne County NAACP and published in a mimeographed paper entitled the “Black Times.” As stated by the chancellor, those persons “were branded as traitors to the black cause, called demeaning names, and socially ostracized for merely trading with whites.”35

The chancellor also concluded that a quite different form of discipline had been used against certain violators of the boycott. He specifically identified 10 incidents that “strikingly” revealed the “atmosphere of fear that prevailed among blacks from 1966 until 1970.”36 The testimony concerning four incidents convincingly demonstrates that they occurred because the victims were ignoring the boycott. In two cases, shots were fired at a house; in a third, a brick was thrown through a windshield; in the fourth, a flower garden was damaged. None of these four victims, however, ceased trading with white merchants.37

*905The evidence concerning four other incidents is less clear, but again it indicates that an unlawful form of discipline was applied to certain boycott violators. In April 1966, a black couple named Cox asked for a police escort to go into a white-owned dry cleaner and, a week later, shots were fired into their home. In another incident, an NAACP member took a bottle of whiskey from a black man who had purchased it in a white-owned store. The third incident involved a fight between a commercial fisherman who did'not observe the boycott and four men who “grabbed me and beat me up and took a gun off me.”38 In a fourth incident, described only in hearsay testimony, a group- of young blacks apparently pulled down the overalls of an elderly brick mason known as “Preacher White” and spanked him for not observing the boycott.39

Two other incidents discussed by the chancellor are of less certain significance. Jasper Coleman testified that he par*906ticipated in an all-night poker game at a friend’s house on Christmas Eve 1966. The following morning he discovered that all four tires of his pickup truck had been slashed with a knife. Coleman testified that he did not participate in the boycott but was never threatened for refusing to do so. Record 13791. Finally, Willie Myles testified that he and his wife received a threatening phone call and that a boy on a barge told him that he would be whipped for buying his gas at the wrong place.

Five of these incidents occurred in 1966. The other five are not dated. The chancellor thus did not find that any act of violence occurred after 1966.40 In particular, he made no reference to any act of violence or threat of violence — with the exception, of course, of Charles Evers’ speeches — after the shootings of Martin Luther King, Jr., in 1968 or Roosevelt Jackson in 1969. The chancellor did not find that any of the incidents of violence was discussed at the Tuesday evening meetings of the NAACP.41

II

This Court’s jurisdiction to review the judgment of the Mississippi Supreme Court is, of course, limited to the fed*907eral questions necessarily decided by that court.42 We consider first whether petitioners’ activities are protected in any respect by the Federal Constitution and, if they are, what effect such protection has on a lawsuit of this nature.

A

The boycott of white merchants at issue in this case took many forms. The boycott was launched at a meeting of a local branch of the NAACP attended by several hundred persons. Its acknowledged purpose was to secure compliance by both civic and business leaders with a lengthy list of demands for equality and racial justice. The boycott was supported by speeches and nonviolent picketing. Participants repeatedly encouraged others to join in its cause.

Each of these elements of the boycott is a form of speech or conduct that is ordinarily entitled to protection under the First and Fourteenth Amendments.43 The black citizens named as defendants in this action banded together and collectively expressed their dissatisfaction with a social structure that had denied them rights to equal treatment and respect. As we so recently acknowledged in Citizens Against Rent Control/Coalition for Fair Housing v. Berkeley, 454 U. S. 290, 294, “the practice of persons sharing common views banding together to achieve a common end is deeply embedded in the American political process.” We recognized that “by collective effort individuals can make their views known, when, individually, their voices would be faint *908or lost.” Ibid. In emphasizing “the importance of freedom of association in guaranteeing the right of people to make their voices heard on public issues,” id., at 295, we noted the words of Justice Harlan, writing for the Court in NAACP v. Alabama ex rel. Patterson, 357 U. S. 449, 460:

“Effective advocacy of both public and private points of view, particularly controversial ones, is undeniably enhanced by group association, as this Court has more than once recognized by remarking upon the close nexus between the freedoms of speech and assembly.”

The Chief Justice stated for the Court in Citizens Against Rent Control: “There are, of course, some activities, legal if engaged in by one, yet illegal if performed in concert with others, but political expression is not one of them.” 454 U. S., at 296.

The right to associate does not lose all constitutional protection merely because some members of the group may have participated in conduct or advocated doctrine that itself is not protected. In De Jonge v. Oregon, 299 U. S. 353, the Court unanimously held that an individual could not be penalized simply for assisting in the conduct of an otherwise lawful meeting held under the auspices of the Communist Party, an organization that advocated “criminal syndicalism.” After reviewing the rights of citizens “to meet peaceably for consultation in respect to public affairs and to petition for a redress of grievances,” id., at 364, Chief Justice Hughes, writing for the Court, stated:

“It follows from these considerations that, consistently with the Federal Constitution, peaceable assembly for lawful discussion cannot be made a crime. The holding of meetings for peaceable political action cannot be proscribed. Those who assist in the conduct of such meetings cannot be branded as criminals on that score. The question, if the rights of free speech and peaceable assembly are to be preserved, is not as to the auspices *909under which the meeting is held but as to its purpose; not as to the relations of the speakers, but whether their utterances transcend the bounds of the freedom of speech which the Constitution protects. If the persons assembling have committed crimes elsewhere, if they have formed or are engaged in a conspiracy against the public peace and order, they may be prosecuted for their conspiracy or other violation of valid laws. But it is a different matter when the State, instead of prosecuting them for such offenses, seizes upon mere participation in a peaceable assembly and a lawful public discussion as the basis for a criminal charge.” Id., at 365.

Of course, the petitioners in this case did more than assemble peaceably and discuss among themselves their grievances against governmental and business policy. Other elements of the boycott, however, also involved activities ordinarily safeguarded by the First Amendment. In Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, the Court held that peaceful picketing was entitled to constitutional protection, even though, in that case, the purpose of the picketing “was concededly to advise customers and prospective customers of the relationship existing between the employer and its employees and thereby to induce such customers not to patronize the employer.” Id., at 99. Cf. Chauffeurs v. Newell, 356 U. S. 341. In Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U. S. 229, we held that a peaceful march and demonstration was protected by the rights of free speech, free assembly, and freedom to petition for a redress of grievances.

Speech itself also was used to further the aims of the boycott. Nonparticipants repeatedly were urged to join the common cause, both through public address and through personal solicitation. These elements of the boycott involve speech in its most direct form. In addition, names of boycott violators were read aloud at meetings at the First Baptist Church and published in a local black newspaper. Petitioners admittedly sought to persuade others to join the boycott *910through social pressure and the “threat” of social ostracism. Speech does not lose its protected character, however, simply because it may embarrass others or coerce them into action. As Justice Rutledge, in describing the protection afforded by the First Amendment, explained:

“It extends to more than abstract discussion, unrelated to action. The First Amendment is a charter for government, not for an institution of learning. ‘Free trade in ideas’ means free trade in the opportunity.to persuade to action, not merely to describe facts.” Thomas v. Collins, 323 U. S. 516, 537.

In Organization for a Better Austin v. Keefe, 402 U. S. 415, the Court considered the validity of a prior restraint on speech that invaded the “privacy” of the respondent. Petitioner, a racially integrated community organization, charged that respondent, a real estate broker, had engaged in tactics known as “blockbusting” or “panic peddling.”44 Petitioner asked respondent to sign an agreement that he would not solicit property in their community. When he refused, petitioner distributed leaflets near respondent’s home that were critical of his business practices.45 A state court enjoined petitioner from distributing the leaflets; an appellate court affirmed on the ground that the alleged activities were coercive and intimidating, rather than informative, and therefore not entitled to First Amendment protection. Id., at 418. This Court reversed. The Chief Justice explained:

“This Court has often recognized that the activity of peaceful pamphleteering is a form of communication pro*911tected by the First Amendment. E. g., Martin v. City of Struthers, 319 U. S. 141 (1943); Schneider v. State, 308 U. S. 147 (1939); Lovell v. Griffin, 303 U. S. 444 (1938). In sustaining the injunction, however, the Appellate Court was apparently of the view that petitioners’ purpose in distributing their literature was not to inform the public, but to ‘force’ respondent to sign a no-solicitation agreement. The claim that the expressions were intended to exercise a coercive impact on respondent does not remove them from the reach of the First Amendment. Petitioners plainly intended to influence respondent’s conduct by their activities; this is not fundamentally different from the function of a newspaper. See Schneider v. State, supra; Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88 (1940). Petitioners were engaged openly and vigorously in making the public aware of respondent’s real estate practices. Those practices were offensive to them, as the views and practices of petitioners are no doubt offensive to others. But so long as the means are peaceful, the communication need not meet standards of acceptability.” Id., at 419.

In dissolving the prior restraint, the Court recognized that “offensive” and “coercive” speech was nevertheless protected by the First Amendment.46

In sum, the boycott clearly involved constitutionally protected activity. The established elements of speech, assembly, association, and petition, “though not identical, are inseparable.” Thomas v. Collins, supra, at 530. Through exercise of these First Amendment rights, petitioners sought to bring about political, social, and economic change. *912Through speech, assembly, and petition — rather than through riot or revolution — petitioners sought to change a social order that had consistently treated them as second-class citizens.

The presence of protected activity, however, does not end the relevant constitutional inquiry. Governmental regulation that has an incidental effect on First Amendment freedoms may be justified in certain narrowly defined instances. See United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367.47 A nonviolent and totally voluntary boycott may have a disruptive effect on local economic conditions. This Court has recognized the strong governmental interest in certain forms of economic regulation, even though such regulation may have an incidental effect on rights of speech and association. See Giboney v. Empire Storage & Ice Co., 336 U. S. 490; NLRB v. Retail Store Employees, 447 U. S. 607. The right of.business entities to “associate” to suppress competition may be curtailed. National Society of Professional Engineers v. United States, 435 U. S. 679. Unfair trade practices may be restricted. Secondary boycotts and picketing by labor unions may be prohibited, as part of “Congress’ striking of the delicate balance between union freedom of expression and the ability of neutral employers, employees, and consumers to remain free from coerced participation in industrial strife.” NLRB v. Retail Store Employees, supra, at 617-618 (Blackmun, J., concurring in part). See Longshoremen v. Allied International, Inc., 456 U. S. 212, 222-223, and n. 20.

*913While States have broad power to regulate economic activity, we do not find a comparable right to prohibit peaceful political activity such as that found in the boycott in this case. This Court has recognized that expression on public issues “has always rested on the highest rung of the hierarchy of First Amendment values.” Carey v. Brown, 447 U. S. 455, 467. “[S]peech concerning public affairs is more than self-expression; it is the essence of self-government.” Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 74-75. There is a “profound national commitment” to the principle that “debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 270.

In Eastern Railroad Presidents Conference v. Noerr Motor Freight, Inc., 365 U. S. 127, the Court considered whether the Sherman Act prohibited a publicity campaign waged by railroads against the trucking industry that was designed to foster the adoption of laws destructive of the trucking business, to create an atmosphere of distaste for truckers among the general public, and to impair the relationships existing between truckers and their customers. Noting that the “right of petition is one of the freedoms protected by the Bill of Rights, and we cannot, of course, lightly impute to Congress an intent to invade these freedoms,” the Court held that the Sherman Act did not proscribe the publicity campaign. Id., at 137-138. The Court stated that it could not see how an intent to influence legislation to destroy the truckers as competitors “could transform conduct otherwise lawful into a violation of the Sherman Act.” Id., at 138-139. Noting that the right of the people to petition their representatives in government “cannot properly be made to depend on their intent in doing so,” the Court held that “at least insofar as the railroads’ campaign was directed toward obtaining governmental action, its legality was not at all affected by any anticompetitive purpose it may have had.” Id., at 139-140. This conclusion was not changed by the fact that the railroads’ anticompetitive purpose produced an anti-*914competitive effect; the Court rejected the truckers’ Sherman Act claim despite the fact that “the truckers sustained some direct injury as an incidental effect of the railroads’ campaign to influence governmental action.” Id., at 143.

It is not disputed that a major purpose of the boycott in this case was to influence governmental action. Like the railroads in Noerr, the petitioners certainly foresaw — and directly intended — that the merchants would sustain economic injury as a result of their campaign. Unlike the railroads in that case, however, the purpose of petitioners’ campaign was not to destroy legitimate competition. Petitioners sought to vindicate rights of equality and of freedom that lie at the heart of the Fourteenth Amendment itself. The right of the States to regulate economic activity could not justify a complete prohibition against a nonviolent, politically motivated boycott designed to force governmental and economic change and to effectuate rights guaranteed by the Constitution itself.48

In upholding an injunction against the state supersedeas bonding requirement in this case, Judge Ainsworth of the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit cogently stated:

“At the heart of the Chancery Court’s opinion lies the belief that the mere organization of the boycott and every activity undertaken in support thereof could be subject to judicial prohibition under state law. This *915view accords insufficient weight to the First Amendment’s protection of political speech and association. There is no suggestion that the NAACP, MAP or the individual defendants were in competition with the white businesses or that the boycott arose from parochial economic interests. On the contrary, the boycott grew out of a racial dispute with the white merchants and city government of Port Gibson and all of the picketing, speeches, and other communication associated with the boycott were directed to the elimination of racial discrimination in the town. This differentiates this case from a boycott organized for economic ends, for speech to protest racial discrimination is essential political speech lying at the core of the First Amendment.” Henry v. First National Bank of Clarksdale, 595 F. 2d 291, 303 (1979) (footnote omitted).

We hold that the nonviolent elements of petitioners’ activities are entitled to the protection of the First Amendment.49

B

The Mississippi Supreme Court did not sustain the chancellor’s imposition of liability on a theory that state law prohibited a nonviolent, politically motivated boycott. The fact that such activity is constitutionally protected, however, imposes a special obligation on this Court to examine critically the basis on which liability was imposed.50 In particular, we *916consider here the effect of our holding that much of petitioners’ conduct was constitutionally protected on the ability of the State to impose liability for elements of the boycott that were not so protected.51

The First Amendment does not protect violence. “Certainly violence has no sanctuary in the First Amendment, and the use of weapons, gunpowder, and gasoline may not constitutionally masquerade under the guise of ‘advocacy.’” Samuels v. Mackell, 401 U. S. 66, 75 (Douglas, J., concurring). Although the extent and significance of the violence in this case are vigorously disputed by the parties, there is no question that acts of violence occurred. No federal rule of law restricts a State from imposing tort liability for business losses that are caused by violence and by threats of violence. When such conduct occurs in the context of constitutionally protected activity, however, “precision of regulation” is demanded. NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 438.52 Specifically, the presence of activity protected by the First Amendment imposes restraints on the grounds that may give rise to *917damages liability and on the persons who may be held accountable for those damages.

In Mine Workers v. Gibbs, 383 U. S. 715, the Court considered a case in many respects similar to the one before us. The case grew out of the rivalry between the United Mine Workers (UMW) and the Southern Labor Union (SLU) over representation of workers in the southern Appalachian coal fields. A coal company laid off 100 miners of UMW’s Local 5881 when it closed one of its mines. That same year, a subsidiary of the coal company hired Gibbs as mine superintendent to attempt to open a new mine on nearby property through use of members of the SLU. Gibbs also received a contract to haul the mine’s coal to the nearest railroad loading point. When he attempted to open the mine, however, he was met by armed members of Local 5881 who threatened Gibbs and beat an SLU organizer. These incidents occurred on August 15 and 16. Thereafter, there was no further violence at the mine site and UMW members maintained a peaceful picket line for nine months. No attempts to open the mine were made during that period.

Gibbs lost his job as superintendent and never began performance of the haulage contract. Claiming to have suffered losses as a result of the union’s concerted plan against him, Gibbs filed suit in federal court against the international UMW. He alleged an unlawful secondary boycott under the federal labor laws and, as a pendent state-law claim, “an unlawful conspiracy and an unlawful boycott aimed at him . . . to maliciously, wantonly and willfully interfere with his contract of employment and with his contract of haulage.” Id., at 720. The federal claim was dismissed on the ground that the dispute was “primary” and therefore not cognizable under the federal prohibition of secondary labor boycotts. Damages were awarded against the UMW, however, on the state claim of interference with an employment relationship.

This Court reversed. The Court found that the pleadings, arguments of counsel, and jury instructions had not ade*918quately defined the compass within which damages could be awarded under state law. The Court noted that it had “consistently recognized the right of States to deal with violence and threats of violence appearing in labor disputes” and had sustained “a variety of remedial measures against the contention that state law was pre-empted by the passage of federal labor legislation.” Id., at 729. To accommodate federal labor policy, however, the Court in Gibbs held: “the permissible scope of state remedies in this area is strictly confined to the direct consequences of such [violent] conduct, and does not include consequences resulting from associated peaceful picketing or other union activity.” Ibid. The Court noted that in Construction Workers v. Laburnum Construction Corp., 347 U. S. 656, damages were restricted to those directly and proximately caused by wrongful conduct chargeable to the defendants. “‘Thus there [was] nothing in the measure of damages to indicate that state power was exerted to compensate for anything more than the direct consequences of the violent conduct.’” 383 U. S., at 730 (quoting San Diego Building Trades Council v. Garmon, 359 U. S. 236, 249, n. 6).

The careful limitation on damages liability imposed in Gibbs resulted from the need to accommodate state law with federal labor policy. That limitation is no less applicable, however, to the important First Amendment interests at issue in this case. Petitioners withheld their patronage from the white establishment of Claiborne County to challenge a political and economic system that had denied them the basic rights of dignity and equality that this country had fought a Civil War to secure. While the State legitimately may impose damages for the consequences of violent conduct, it may not award compensation for the consequences of nonviolent, protected activity. Only those losses proximately caused by unlawful conduct may be recovered.

The First Amendment similarly restricts the ability of the State to impose liability on an individual solely because of his *919association with another. In Scales v. United States, 367 U. S. 203, 229, the Court noted that a “blanket prohibition of association with a group having both legal and illegal aims” would present “a real danger that legitimate political expression or association would be impaired.” The Court suggested that to punish association with such a group, there must be “clear proof that a defendant ‘specifically intend[s] to accomplish [the aims of the organization] by resort to violence.’” Ibid, (quoting Noto v. United States, 367 U. S. 290, 299).53 Moreover, in Noto v. United States the Court emphasized that this intent must be judged “according to the strictest law,”54 for “otherwise there is a danger that one in sympathy with the legitimate aims of such an organization, but not specifically intending to accomplish them by resort to violence, might be punished for his adherence to lawful and constitutionally protected purposes, because of other and unprotected purposes which he does not necessarily share.” Id., at 299-300.

In Healy v. James, 408 U. S. 169, the Court applied these principles in a noncriminal context. In that case the Court held that a student group could not be denied recognition at a state-supported college merely because of its affiliation with a national organization associated with disruptive and violent campus activity. It noted that “the Court has consistently disapproved governmental action imposing criminal sanctions or denying rights and privileges solely because of a citizen’s association with an unpopular organization.” Id., at 185-186. The Court stated that “it has been established that ‘guilt by association alone, without [establishing] that an individual’s association poses the threat feared by the Government,’ is an impermissible basis upon which to deny First Amendment rights.” Id., at 186 (quoting United States v. Robel, 389 U. S. 258, 265). “The government has the bur*920den of establishing a knowing affiliation with an organization possessing unlawful aims and goals, and a specific intent to further those illegal aims.” 408 U. S., at 186 (footnote omitted).55

The principles announced in Scales, Noto, and Healy are relevant to this case. Civil liability may not be imposed merely because an individual belonged to a group, some members of which committed acts of violence. For liability to be imposed by reason of association alone, it is necessary to establish that the group itself possessed unlawful goals and that the individual held a specific intent to further those illegal aims.56 “In this sensitive field, the State may not employ ‘means that broadly stifle fundamental personal liberties when the end can be more narrowly achieved.’ Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479, 488 (1960).” Carroll v. Princess Anne, 393 U. S. 175, 183-184.

Ill

The chancellor awarded respondents damages for ah business losses that were sustained during a 7-year period beginning in 1966 and ending December 31, 1972.57 With the ex*921ception of Aaron Henry, all defendants were held jointly and severally liable for these losses. The chancellor’s findings were consistent with his view that voluntary participation in the boycott was a sufficient basis on which to impose liability. The Mississippi Supreme Court properly rejected that theory; it nevertheless held that petitioners were liable for all damages “resulting from the boycott.”58 In light of the principles set forth above, it is evident that such a damages award may not be sustained in this case.

The opinion of the Mississippi Supreme Court itself demonstrates that all business losses were not proximately caused by the violence and threats of violence found to be present. The court stated that “coercion, intimidation, and threats” formed “part of the boycott activity” and “contributed to its almost complete success.”59 The court broadly asserted— without differentiation — that “ ‘[ijntimidation, threats, social ostracism, vilification, and traduction’ ” were devices used by the defendants to effectuate the boycott.60 The court repeated the chancellor’s finding that “the volition of many black persons was overcome out of sheer fear.”61 These findings are inconsistent with the court’s imposition of all damages “resulting from the boycott.” To the extent that the court’s judgment rests on the ground that “many” black citizens were “intimidated” by “threats” of “social ostracism, vilification, and traduction,” it is flatly inconsistent with the First Amendment. The ambiguous findings of the Mississippi Supreme Court are inadequate to assure the “precision of regulation” demanded by that constitutional provision.

*922The record in this case demonstrates that all of respondents’ losses were not proximately caused by violence or threats of violence. As respondents themselves stated at page 12 of their brief in the Mississippi Supreme Court:

“Most of the witnesses testified that they voluntarily went along with the NAACP and their fellow black citizens in honoring and observing the boycott because they wanted the boycott.”

This assessment is amply supported by the record.62 It is indeed inconceivable that a boycott launched by the unanimous vote of several hundred persons succeeded solely through fear and intimidation. Moreover, the fact that the boycott “intensified” following the shootings of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Roosevelt Jackson demonstrates that factors other than force and violence (by the petitioners) figured *923prominently in the boycott’s success. The chancellor made no finding that any act of violence occurred after 1966. While the timing of the acts of violence was not important to the chancellor’s imposition of liability, it is a critical factor under the narrower rationale of the Mississippi Supreme Court. That court has completely failed to demonstrate that business losses suffered in 1972 — three years after this lawsuit was filed — were proximately caused by the isolated acts of violence found in 1966.63 It is impossible to conclude that state power has not been exerted to compensate respondents for the direct consequences of nonviolent, constitutionally protected activity.

This case is not like Milk Wagon Drivers v. Meadowmoor Dairies, Inc., 312 U. S. 287, in which the Court held that the presence of violence justified an injunction against both violent and nonviolent activity.64 The violent conduct present in that case was pervasive.65 The Court in Meadowmoor stated that “utterance in a context of violence can lose its significance as an appeal to reason and become part of an instrument of force.” Id., at 293. The Court emphasized, however:

*924“Still it is of prime importance that no constitutional freedom, least of all the guarantees of the Bill of Rights, be defeated by insubstantial findings of fact screening reality. That is why this Court has the ultimate power to search the records in the state courts where a claim of constitutionality is effectively made. And so the right of free speech cannot be denied by drawing from a trivial rough incident or a moment of animal exuberance the conclusion that otherwise peaceful picketing has the taint of force.” Ibid.

Such “insubstantial findings” were not present in Meadow-moor. But in this case, the Mississippi Supreme Court has relied on isolated acts of violence during a limited period to uphold respondents’ recovery of all business losses sustained over a 7-year span. No losses are attributed to the voluntary participation of individuals determined to secure “justice and equal opportunity.”66 The court’s judgment “screens reality” and cannot stand.67

Respondents’ supplemental brief also demonstrates that on the present record no judgment may be sustained against most of the petitioners. Regular attendance and participation at the Tuesday meetings of the Claiborne County Branch of the NAACP is an insufficient predicate on which to impose liability. The chancellor’s findings do not suggest that any illegal conduct was authorized, ratified, or even discussed at any of the meetings. The Sheriff testified that he was kept *925informed of what transpired at the meetings; he made no reference to any discussion of unlawful activity.68 To impose liability for presence at weekly meetings of the NAACP would — ironically—not even constitute “guilt by association,” since there is no evidence that the association possessed unlawful aims. Rather, liability could only be imposed on a “guilt for association” theory. Neither is permissible under the First Amendment.69

Respondents also argue that liability may be imposed on individuals who were either “store watchers” or members of the “Black Hats.” There is nothing unlawful in standing outside a store and recording names. Similarly, there is nothing unlawful in wearing black hats, although such apparel may cause apprehension in others. As established above, mere association with either group — absent a specific intent to further an unlawful aim embraced by that group — is *926an insufficient predicate for liability. At the same time, the evidence does support the conclusion that some members of each of these groups engaged in violence or threats of violence. Unquestionably, these individuals may be held responsible for the injuries that they caused; a judgment tailored to the consequences of their unlawful conduct may be sustained.

Respondents have sought separately to justify the judgment entered against Charles Evers and the national NAACP. As set forth by the chancellor, Evers was specially connected with the boycott in four respects. First, Evers signed the March 23 supplemental demand letter and unquestionably played the primary leadership role in the organization of the boycott. Second, Evers participated in negotiations with MAP and successfully convinced MAP to abandon its practice of purchasing food alternately from white-owned and black-owned stores. Third, he apparently presided at the April 1, 1966, meeting at which the vote to begin the boycott was taken; he delivered a speech to the large audience that was gathered on that occasion. See n. 28, supra. Fourth, Evers delivered the speeches on April 19 and 21, 1969, which we have discussed previously. See supra, at 902; Appendix to this opinion.

For the reasons set forth above, liability may not be imposed on Evers for his presence at NAACP meetings or his active participation in the boycott itself. To the extent that Evers caused respondents to suffer business losses through his organization of the boycott, his emotional and persuasive appeals for unity in the joint effort, or his “threats” of vilification or social ostracism, Evers’ conduct is constitutionally protected and beyond the reach of a damages award. Respondents point to Evers’ speeches, however, as justification for the chancellor’s damages award. Since respondents would impose liability on the basis of a public address — which predominantly contained highly charged political rhetoric *927lying at the core of the First Amendment — we approach this suggested basis of liability with extreme care.

There are three separate theories that might justify holding Evers liable for the unlawful conduct of others. First, a finding that he authorized, directed, or ratified specific tortious activity would justify holding him responsible for the consequences of that activity. Second, a finding that his public speeches were likely to incite lawless action could justify holding him liable for unlawful conduct that in fact followed within a reasonable period. Third, the speeches might be taken as evidence that Evers gave other specific instructions to carry out violent acts or threats.

While many of the comments in Evers’ speeches might have contemplated “discipline” in the permissible form of social ostracism, it cannot be denied that references to the possibility that necks would be broken and to the fact that the Sheriff could not sleep with boycott violators at night implicitly conveyed a sterner message. In the passionate atmosphere in which the speeches were delivered, they might have been understood as inviting an unlawful form of discipline or, at least, as intending to create a fear of violence whether or not improper discipline was specifically intended.

It is clear that “fighting words” — those that provoke immediate violence — are not protected by the First Amendment. Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 572. Similarly, words that create an immediate panic are not entitled to constitutional protection. Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47.70 This Court has made clear, however, that mere advocacy of the use of force or violence does not remove speech from the protection of the First Amendment. In Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444, we reversed the conviction of a Ku Klux Klan leader for threatening “revengeance” if the “suppression” of the white race continued; we relied on *928“the principle that the constitutional guarantees of free speech and free press do not permit a State to forbid or proscribe advocacy of the use of force or of law violation except where such advocacy is directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.” Id., at 447. See Noto v. United States, 367 U. S.,at 297-298 (“the mere abstract teaching... of the moral propriety or even moral necessity for a resort to force and violence, is not the same as preparing a group for violent action and steeling it to such action”). See also Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 372 (Brandeis, J., concurring).

The emotionally charged rhetoric of Charles Evers’ speeches did not transcend the bounds of protected speech set forth in Brandenburg. The lengthy addresses generally contained an impassioned plea for black citizens to unify, to support and respect each other, and to realize the political and economic power available to them. In the course of those pleas, strong language was used. If that language had been followed by acts of violence, a substantial question would be presented whether Evers could be held liable for the consequences of that unlawful conduct. In this case, however — with the possible exception of the Cox incident— the acts of violence identified in 1966 occurred weeks or months after the April 1, 1966, speech; the chancellor made no finding of any violence after the challenged 1969 speech. Strong and effective extemporaneous rhetoric cannot be nicely channeled in purely dulcet phrases. An advocate must be free to stimulate his audience with spontaneous and emotional appeals for unity and action in a common cause. When such appeals do not incite lawless action, they must be regarded as protected speech. To rule otherwise would ignore the “profound national commitment” that “debate on public issues should be'uninhibited, robust, and wide-open.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 270.71

*929For these reasons, we conclude that Evers’ addresses did not exceed the bounds of protected speech. If there were other evidence of his authorization of wrongful conduct, the references to discipline in the speeches could be used to corroborate that evidence. But any such theory fails for the simple reason that there is no evidence — apart from the speeches themselves — that Evers authorized, ratified, or directly threatened acts of violence.72 The chancellor’s findings are not sufficient to establish that Evers had a duty to “repudiate” the acts of violence that occurred.73 The findings are constitutionally inadequate to support the damages judgment against him.

The liability of the NAACP derived solely from the liability of Charges Evers.74 The chancellor found:

“The national NAACP was well-advised of Evers’ actions, and it had the option of repudiating his acts or ratifying them. It never repudiated those acts,. and therefore, it is deemed by this Court to have affirmed them.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 42b-43b.

*930Of course, to the extent that Charles Evers’ acts are insufficient to impose liability upon him, they may not be used to impose liability on his principal. On the present record, however, the judgment against the NAACP could not stand in any event.

The associational rights of the NAACP and its members have been recognized repeatedly by this Court.75 The NAACP — like any other organization — of course may be held responsible for the acts of its agents throughout the country that are undertaken within the scope of their actual or apparent authority.76 Cf. American Society of Mechanical Engineers, Inc. v. Hydrolevel Comp., 456 U. S. 556. Moreover, the NAACP may be found liable for other conduct of which it had knowledge and specifically ratified.

The chancellor made no finding that Charles Evers or any other NAACP member had either actual or apparent authority to commit acts of violence or to threaten violent conduct. The evidence in the record suggests the contrary. Aaron Henry, President of the Mississippi State Conference of the NAACP and a member of the Board of Directors of the national organization, testified that the statements attributed to Evers were directly contrary to NAACP policy. Record 4930.77 Similarly, there is no evidence that the NAACP rati*931fled — or even had specific knowledge of — any of the acts of violence or threats of discipline associated with the boycott. Henry testified that the NAACP never authorized, and never considered taking, any official action with respect to the boycott. Id., at 4896. The NAACP supplied no financial aid to the boycott. Id., at 4940. The chancellor made no finding that the national organization was involved in any way in the boycott.78

To impose liability without a finding that the NAACP authorized — either actually or apparently — or ratified unlawful conduct would impermissibly burden the rights of political association that are protected by the First Amendment. As Justice Douglas noted in NAACP v. Overstreet, 384 U. S. 118, dissenting from a dismissal of a writ of certiorari found to have been improvidently granted:

“To equate the liability of the national organization with that of the Branch in the absence of any proof that the national authorized or ratified the misconduct in question could ultimately destroy it. The rights of political association are fragile enough without adding the *932additional threat of destruction by lawsuit. We have not been slow to recognize that the protection of the First Amendment bars subtle as well as obvious devices by which political association might be stifled. See Bates v. Little Rock, 361 U. S. 516, 523. Thus we have held that forced disclosure of one’s political associations is, at least in the absence of a compelling state interest, inconsistent with the First Amendment’s guaranty of associational privacy. E. g., DeGregory v. New Hampshire, 383 U. S. 825; Gibson v. Florida Legislative Comm., 372 U. S. 539, 543-546; Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479; N. A. A. C. P. v. Alabama, 357 U. S. 449, 462-463. Recognizing that guilt by association is a philosophy alien to the traditions of a free society (see Schware v. Board of Bar Examiners, 353 U. S. 232, 245-246, and the First Amendment itself, we have held that civil or criminal disabilities may not be imposed on one who joins an organization which has among its purposes the violent overthrow of the Government, unless the individual joins knowing of the organization’s illegal purposes (Wieman v. Updegraff, 344 U. S. 183) and with the specific intention to further those purposes. See Elfbrandt v. Russell, [384 U. S., at] 11; Aptheker v. Secretary of State, 378 U. S. 500.” Id., at 122.

The chancellor’s findings are not adequate to support the judgment against the NAACP.

IV

In litigation of this kind the stakes are high. Concerted action is a powerful weapon. History teaches that special dangers are associated with conspiratorial activity.79 And *933yet one of the foundations of our society is the right of individuals to combine with other persons in pursuit of a common goal by lawful means.80

At times the difference between lawful and unlawful collective action may be identified easily by reference to its purpose. In this case, however, petitioners’ ultimate objectives were unquestionably legitimate. The charge of illegality— like the claim of constitutional protection — derives from the means employed by the participants to achieve those goals. The use of speeches, marches, and threats of social ostracism cannot provide the basis for a damages award. But violent conduct is beyond the pale of constitutional protection.

The taint of violence colored the conduct of some of the petitioners. They, of course, may be held liable for the consequences of their violent deeds. The burden of demonstrating that it colored the entire collective effort, however, is not satisfied by evidence that violence occurred or even that violence contributed to the success of the boycott. A massive and prolonged effort to change the social, political, and economic structure of a local environment cannot be characterized as a violent conspiracy simply by reference to the ephemeral consequences of relatively few violent acts. Such a characterization must be supported by findings that adequately disclose the evidentiary basis for concluding that specific parties agreed to use unlawful means, that carefully *934identify the impact of such unlawful conduct, and that recognize the importance of avoiding the imposition of punishment for constitutionally protected activity. The burden of demonstrating that fear rather than protected conduct was the dominant force in the movement is heavy. A court must be wary of a claim that the true color of a forest is better revealed by reptiles hidden in the weeds than by the foliage of countless freestanding trees. The findings of the chancellor, framed largely in the light of two legal theories rejected by the Mississippi Supreme Court, are constitutionally insufficient to support the judgment that all petitioners are liable for all losses resulting from the boycott.

The judgment is reversed. The case is remanded for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Justice Rehnquist concurs in the result.

Justice Marshall took no part in the consideration or decision of this case.

APPENDIX TO OPINION OF THE COURT

Portions of speech delivered by Charles Evers on April 19, 1969 (Record 1092-1108):

“Thank you very much. We want our white friends here to know what we tell them happens to be so. Thank you for having the courage to walk down those streets with us. We thank you for letting our white brethren know that guns and bullets ain’t gonna stop us. (No) (No) We thank you for letting our white brothers know that Port Gibson ain’t none of their town. (Amen) (Applause) That Port Gibson is all of our town. (Applause) That black folks, red folks, Chinese and Japanese alike (Yeah) (That’s right.), that we are going to have our share. (Yeah, we are.)

*935“We are going to beat you because we know you can’t trick us no more, (yea) You are not going to be able to fool us by getting somebody to give us a drink of whiskey no more. (Applause) You ain’t gonna be able to fool us by somebody giving us a few dollars no more. (Applause) We are gonna take your money and drink with you and then we’re gonna (Applause) vote against you. Then we are going to elect a sheriff in this county and a sheriff that is responsible, that won’t have to run and grab the telephone and call up the blood-thirsty highway patrol when he gets ready (Yeah) to come in and beat innocent folks down to the ground for no cause. (That’s right) (Applause) (Boo) We are going to elect a sheriff that can call his deputies and represent black leaders in the community and stop whatever problem there is. (Yeah) (That’s right.)

“Then we are going to do more than that. The white merchants of this town are so wrapped up in the power structure here, since you love your Police Department so well, since you support them so well (Yeah), we are going to let them buy your dirty clothes and your filthy, rotten groceries.

“Oh, no, white folks, we ain’t going to shoot you with no bullet. (That’s right.) We are going to shoot you with our ballots and with our bucks. (Yea) (That’s right.) We are going to take away from you the thing that you have had over us all these years. (Yeah) Political power and economic power. While you kill our brothers and our sisters and rape our wives and our friends. (Yeah) You’re guilty. You’re guilty because you don’t care a thing about anybody. (Yes.) And when you go and let a big, black burly nigger like you get on the police force (Yea) go down and grab another black brother’s arm and hold it while a white racist stole him from us, and he’s a liar if he says he didn’t hold him.

“We mean what we are saying. We are not playing. (Right) We better not even think one of us is black. You better not even be caught near one of these stores. (Applause)

*936“We don’t want you caught in Piggly-Wiggly. You remember how he grinned at us four years ago? (Yeah) You know how when he took office he grinned at us? (Yeah) He ain’t hired nobody yet. (That’s right) (No) And you know old Jitney Jungle down there with those funny letters down on the end? (That’s right) (Applause) He haven’t hired nobody in there yet. (No) Do you know poor ole M & M or whatever it stands for, mud and mush, I guess. (Applause) They’re out here on the highway and they haven’t hired none of us yet.

“Do you know Ellis who had a part-time boy all his life? He ain’t hired nobody, is he, yet? (No) Then we got ole Stampley, and ninety-nine and three-fourths of his sales are black folks business. He got the nerve to tell me he ain’t gonna put no nigger ringing his cash register. I got news for you, Brother Stampley. You can ring it your damn self. (Extra loud applause.) I want some of you fat cats after this meeting who wants three of our young boys who ain’t a’scar’d of white folks (Applause) (Me) and we want you that’s willing to follow the rules now to go down by Brother Stampley’s and serve notice on him with our placards that we ain’t coming no more.

“Then we are going to tell all the young men that drive Piggly-Wiggly trucks now (Yeah) (Be careful, Son.) because the soul brothers and the spirit is watching you. (Extra loud applause.)

“All right, Brother Wolf, you’re next. (Applause) We got a couple of ’em to come down by Brother Wolf’s. We mean business, white folks. We ain’t gonna shoot you all, we are going to hit you where it hurts most. (In the pocketbook) (Applause) In the pocketbook and in the ballot box. (Applause) We may as well tell our friends at Alcorn to stay away from up here. (Yea) Now, you say, ‘What’s wrong with you niggers?’ I’ll tell you what is wrong with us niggers; We are tired of you white folks, you racists and you bigots mistreating us. (Yeah) We are tired of paying you to *937deny us the right to even exist. (Tell’em about it.) And we ain’t coming back, white folks. (We ain’t.)

“You all put a curfew on us at eight o’clock tonight. We are going to do you better than that. We are going to leave at one-thirty. (Loud applause) We are going to leave at one-thirty and we ain’t coming back, white folks.

“We are going to have Brother McCay; we are going to have our newly elected mayor who we elected, we are going to have him around here, too. Come on back, my dear friend. He say, ‘Naw, brother, we ain’t coming.’ ‘Have you got rid of all those bigots you got on your police force?’ ‘No.’ ‘Have you hired Negroes in all them stores?’ ‘No.’ ‘Well, we ain’t coming back.’ (Right) That’s all we gonna do. You know, what they don’t realize is you put on this curfew, that is all we needed. Let me just give them some instructions. We are going to buy gas only from the Negro-owned service stations. We agreed on it, remember? Now, don’t back upon your agreement. (Yea) I don’t care how many Negroes working on it, that’s too bad. We are going only to Negro-owned service stations. And we are going only — the only time you will see us around on this street, now listen good, you are going to Lee’s Grocery and other stores on this end. Is that clear? (Yeah) (Applause)

“We don’t want to go to none of them drugstores. They get us confused. Now, who am I going to get my medicine from? Let us know in time and we will be glad to furnish a car free to carry you anywhere you have to go to get a prescription filled. You can’t beat this. (No) It won’t cost you a dime. You gó to any of the local black businessmen and tell them you have got to go to Vicksburg to get your stuff. And then if they don’t carry you, let us know. We’ll take care of them later. (Applause) Now, you know, we have got a little song that says, ‘This is your thing, do what you want to do.’ (Applause) This is our thing, let’s do what we want to do with it. Let’s make sure now — if you be dis*938obedient now you are going to be in trouble. Remember that, now, listen. Listen good. They are going to start saying, ‘You know what, Evers is down there with his goon squad, . . .’ Now, we know Claiborne County, — ‘with his goon squad harassing poor ole niggers.’

“Well, good white folks you have been harassing us all our lives. (Applause) And if we decided to harass you that’s our business. (That’s right) They are our children and we are going to discipline them the way we want to. Now, be sure you get all this right on all these tape recorders. Whatever I say on this trip I will say it in Jackson. (Amen) (Glory) And I will say it in Washington and New York. White folks ain’t gonna never control us no more. (Applause)

“Now, my dear friends, the white folks have got the message. I hope you have got the message and tell every one of our black brothers until all these people are gone, you voted on this in the church, don’t let me down, and don’t let yourself down. We agreed in the church that we would vacate this town until they have met those requests, the white folks don’t demand nothing out of us. All right, white folks, we are just saying until you decide when you want to do these little things we beg of you, we are not coming back. (No way)

“None of us better not be caught up here. (Yea) I don’t care how old you are, I don’t care how sick you are, I don’t care how crazy you are, you better not be caught on these streets shopping in these stores until these demands are met. (Applause)

“Now, let’s get together. Are you for this or against it? (Applause) (For it.) Remember you voted this. We intend to enforce it. You needn’t go calling the chief of police, he can’t help you none. You needn’t go calling the sheriff, he can’t help you none. (That’s right.) He ain’t going to offer *939to sleep with none of us men, I can tell you that. (Applause) Let’s don’t break our little rules that you agreed upon here.

“Let’s go to the funeral of our young son whenever the funeral is. I don’t want you to come with hate because that is not going to solve our problems. (No hate.) We don’t want you to hate the white folks here in Port Gibson. That is not going to solve it. If you hate what they have done, I hate to get personal, I hate what they did so much to Medgar, (I know.) I ain’t going to ever stop hating them for that. But I am going to chase them in the way what I know is right and just. I am not going to lay out in the bushes and shoot no white folks. That’s wrong. I am not gonna go out here and bomb none of them’s home. (No) That’s not right. But I am going to do everything in my power to take away all the power, political power, legal power that they possess anywhere I live. We are going to compete against them. When we blacks learn to support and respect each other, then and not until then, will white folks respect us. (Applause)

“Now, you know I trust white folks and I mean every word I say. But it comes a time when we got to make up in our mind individually, are we going to make those persons worthwhile. We done talked and raised all kind of sand all day here, now, what is really going to prove it, are we going to live up to what we have said? (Applause) Now if there is any one of us breaks what we agreed upon, you are just as guilty as that little trigger-happy, blood-thirsty rascal. (Tell ’em about it.)

“I go all over this country, and I ought not to tell you white folks this, and I tell other white folks that some day we are going to get together in Mississippi, black and white, and work out our problems. And we aré ready to start whenever you are. If you are ready to start, we are. We ain’t *940going to let you push us, not one inch. (That’s right.) If you come on beating us, we are going to fight back. (Right) We got our understanding. We are all God’s children. The same man that brought you all here brought us. You could have been black just like we are. We could have been white and baldheaded just like you are. (Laughter) (Inaudible) We are going to work hard at this, Dan. We are going to be organized this time. We ain’t going to be bought off and talked off. We are going to elect the county sheriff here this next time that don’t need the highway patrol. Now, you see, Dan had a good chance to set himself up right, but he goofed it. He goofed. (Yeah) He blew it. (Laughter) Don’t forget that, heah. (Right) It brings back memories like you know you remember things we do.

“Now, if you don’t think it is necessary, we don’t have to go back to the church. If you want to go back there, we can. I want you to make sure here that we are going to leave this town to our white brothers and we ain’t coming back no more until all our requests have been met. Is that the common consent of all of you here? (Applause) (Let’s go back to the church.) All right. Are we willing to make sure that everyone of us will be sure that none of the rest of our black brothers violate our . . . (Yea) We are all saying it now. Let’s not say it now so much on my part. You know, I’m just sort of leading, you know, how these lawyers are, leading our folks on to say what has to be said. And that’s the case. Let’s make us a white town. We would like for you to start it. Be courteous now. Don’t mistreat nobody. Tell them, in a nice forceful way, the curfew is going to be on until they do what we ask them.”

15.26 New York v. Ferber 15.26 New York v. Ferber

NEW YORK v. FERBER

No. 81-55.

Argued April 27, 1982

Decided July 2, 1982

*748White, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Burger, C. J., and Powell, Rehnquist, and O’Connor, JJ., joined. O’Connor, J., filed a concurring opinion, post, p. 774. Brennan, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment, in which Marshall, J., joined, post, p. 775. Blackmun, J., concurred in the result. Stevens, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment, post, p. 777.

Robert M. Fitter argued the cause for petitioner. With him on the briefs was Mark Dwyer.

Herald Price Fahringer argued the cause for respondent. With him on the brief was Paul J. Cambria, Jr.*

*749Justice White

delivered the opinion of the Court.

At issue in this case is the constitutionality of a New York criminal statute which prohibits persons from knowingly promoting sexual performances by children under the age of 16 by distributing material which depicts such performances.

I

In recent years, the exploitive use of children in the production of pornography has become a serious national problem.1 The Federal Government and 47 States have sought to combat the problem with statutes specifically directed at the production of child pornography. At least half of such statutes do not require that the materials produced be legally obscene. Thirty-five States and the United States Congress have also passed legislation prohibiting the distribution of such materials; 20 States prohibit the distribution of material depicting children engaged in sexual conduct without requiring that the material be legally obscene.2

*750New York is one of the 20. In 1977, the New York Legislature enacted Article 263 of its Penal Law. N. Y. Penal Law, Art. 263 (McKinney 1980). Section 263.05 criminalizes as a class C felony the use of a child in a sexual performance:

“A person is guilty of the use of a child in a sexual performance if knowing the character and content thereof he employs, authorizes or induces a child less than sixteen years of age to engage in a sexual performance or being a parent, legal guardian or custodian of such child, *751he consents to the participation by such child in a sexual performance.”

A “[s]exual performance” is defined as “any performance or part thereof which includes sexual conduct by a child less than sixteen years of age.” § 263.00(1). “Sexual conduct” is in turn defined in §263.00(3):

“ ‘Sexual conduct’ means actual or simulated sexual intercourse, deviate sexual intercourse, sexual bestiality, masturbation, sado-masochistic abuse, or lewd exhibition of the genitals.”

A performance is defined as “any play, motion picture, photograph or dance” or “any other visual representation exhibited before an audience.” §263.00(4).

At issue in this case is §263.15, defining a class D felony:3

“A person is guilty of promoting a sexual performance by a child when, knowing the character and content thereof, he produces, directs or promotes any performance which includes sexual conduct by a child less than sixteen years of age.”

To “promote” is also defined:

“‘Promote’ means to procure, manufacture, issue, sell, give, provide, lend, mail, deliver, transfer, transmute, publish, distribute, circulate, disseminate, present, exhibit or advertise, or to offer or agree to do the same.” §263.00(5).

A companion provision bans only the knowing dissemination of obscene material. §263.10.

This case arose when Paul Ferber, the proprietor of a Man*752hattan bookstore specializing in sexually oriented products, sold two films to an undercover police officer. The films are devoted almost exclusively to depicting young boys masturbating. Ferber was indicted on two counts of violating §263.10 and two counts of violating §263.15, the two New York laws controlling dissemination of child pornography.4 After a jury trial, Ferber was acquitted of the two counts of promoting an obscene sexual performance, but found guilty of the two counts under §263.15, which did not require proof that the films were obscene. Ferber’s convictions were affirmed without opinion by the Appellate Division of the New York State Supreme Court. 74 App. Div. 2d 558, 424 N. Y. S. 2d 967 (1980).

The New York Court of Appeals reversed, holding that §263.15 violated the First Amendment. 52 N. Y. 2d 674, 422 N. E. 2d 523 (1981). The court began by noting that in light of § 263.10’s explicit inclusion of an obscenity standard, §263.15 could not be construed to include such a standard. Therefore, “the statute would . . . prohibit the promotion of materials which are traditionally entitled to constitutional protection from government interference under the First Amendment.” 52 N. Y. 2d, at 678, 422 N. E. 2d, at 525. Although the court recognized the State’s “legitimate interest in protecting the welfare of minors” and noted that this “interest may transcend First Amendment concerns,” id., at 679, 422 N. E. 2d, at 525-526, it nevertheless found two fatal defects in the New York statute. Section 263.15 was under-inclusive because it discriminated against visual portrayals of children engaged in sexual activity by not also prohibiting the distribution of films of other dangerous activity. It was also overbroad because it prohibited the distribution of materials produced outside the State, as well as materials, such as medical books and educational sources, which *753“deal with adolescent sex in a realistic but nonobscene manner.” 52 N. Y. 2d, at 681, 422 N. E. 2d, at 526. Two judges dissented. We granted the State’s petition for certiorari, 454 U. S. 1052 (1981), presenting the single question:

“To prevent the abuse of children who are made to engage in sexual conduct for commercial purposes, could the New York State Legislature, consistent with the First Amendment, prohibit the dissemination of material which shows children engaged in sexual conduct, regardless of whether such material is obscene?”

II

The Court of Appeals proceeded on the assumption that the standard of obscenity incorporated in §263.10, which follows the guidelines enunciated in Miller v. California, 413 U. S. 15 (1973),5 constitutes the appropriate line dividing protected from unprotected expression by which to measure a regulation directed at child pornography. It was on the premise that “nonobscene adolescent sex” could not be singled out for special treatment that the court found §263.15 “strikingly underinclusive.” Moreover, the assumption that the constitutionally permissible regulation of pornography could not be more extensive with respect to the distribution of material depicting children may also have led the court to conclude that a narrowing construction of §263.15 was unavailable.

The Court of Appeals’ assumption was not unreasonable in light of our decisions. This case, however, constitutes our first examination of a statute directed at and limited to depictions of sexual activity involving children. We believe our inquiry should begin with the question of whether a State has somewhat more freedom in proscribing works which portray sexual acts or lewd exhibitions of genitalia by children.

*754A

In Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568 (1942), the Court laid the foundation for the excision of obscenity from the realm of constitutionally protected expression:

“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. These include the lewd and obscene .... It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.” Id., at 571-572 (footnotes omitted).

Embracing this judgment, the Court squarely held in Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476 (1957), that “obscenity is not within the area of constitutionally protected speech or press.” Id., at 485. The Court recognized that “rejection of obscenity as utterly without redeeming social importance” was implicit in the history of the First Amendment: The original States provided for the prosecution of libel, blasphemy, and profanity, and the “universal judgment that obscenity should be restrained [is] reflected in the international agreement of over 50 nations, in the obscenity laws of all of the 48 states, and in the 20 obscenity laws enacted by Congress from 1842 to 1956.” Id., at 484-485 (footnotes omitted).

Roth was followed by 15 years during which this Court struggled with “the intractable obscenity problem.” Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, 390 U. S. 676, 704 (1968) (opinion of Harlan, J.). See, e. g., Redrup v. New York, 386 U. S. 767 (1967). Despite considerable vacillation over the proper definition of obscenity, a majority of the Members of the Court remained firm in the position that “the States have a legitimate interest in prohibiting dissemination or exhibition of obscene material when the mode of dissemination carries with it a significant danger of offending the sensibil*755ities of unwilling recipients or of exposure to juveniles.” Miller v. California, supra, at 18-19 (footnote omitted); Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557, 567 (1969); Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629, 637-643 (1968); Interstate Circuit, Inc. v. Dallas, supra, at 690; Redrup v. New York, supra, at 769; Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 195 (1964).

Throughout this period, we recognized “the inherent dangers of undertaking to regulate any form of expression.” Miller v. California, supra, at 23. Consequently, our difficulty was not only to assure that statutes designed to regulate obscene materials sufficiently defined what was prohibited, but also to devise substantive limits on what fell within the permissible scope of regulation. In Miller v. California, supra, a majority of the Court agreed that a “state offense must also be limited to works which, taken as a whole, appeal to the prurient interest in sex, which portray sexual conduct in a patently offensive way, and which, taken as a whole, do not have serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.” Id., at 24. Over the past decade, we have adhered to the guidelines expressed in Miller,6 which subsequently has been followed in the regulatory schemes of most States.7

*756B

The Miller standard, like its predecessors, was an accommodation between the State’s interests in protecting the “sensibilities of unwilling recipients” from exposure to pornographic material and the dangers of censorship inherent in unabashedly content-based laws. Like obscenity statutes, laws directed at the dissemination of child pornography run the risk of suppressing protected expression by allowing the hand of the censor to become unduly heavy. For the following reasons, however, we are persuaded that the States are entitled to greater leeway in the regulation of pornographic depictions of children.

First. It is evident beyond the need for elaboration that a State’s interest in “safeguarding the physical and psychologi*757cal well-being of a minor” is “compelling.” Globe Newspaper Co. v. Superior Court, 457 U. S. 596, 607 (1982). “A democratic society rests, for its continuance, upon the healthy, well-rounded growth of young people into full maturity as citizens.” Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158, 168 (1944). Accordingly, we have sustained legislation aimed at protecting the physical and emotional well-being of youth even when the laws have operated in the sensitive area of constitutionally protected rights. In Prince v. Massachusetts, supra, the Court held that a statute prohibiting use of a child to distribute literature on the street was valid notwithstanding the statute’s effect on a First Amendment activity. In Ginsberg v. New York, supra, we sustained a New York law protecting children from exposure to nonobscene literature. Most recently, we held that the Government’s interest in the “well-being of its youth” justified special treatment of indecent broadcasting received by adults as well as children. FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S. 726 (1978).

The prevention of sexual exploitation and abuse of children constitutes a government objective of surpassing importance. The legislative findings accompanying passage of the New York laws reflect this concern:

“[T]here has been a proliferation of exploitation of children as subjects in sexual performances. The care of children is a sacred trust and should not be abused by those who seek to profit through a commercial network based upon the exploitation of children. The public policy of the state demands the protection of children from exploitation through sexual performances.” 1977 N. Y. Laws, ch. 910, § l.8

*758We shall not second-guess this legislative judgment. Respondent has not intimated that we do so. Suffice it to say that virtually all of the States and the United States have passed legislation proscribing the production of or otherwise combating “child pornography.” The legislative judgment, as well as the judgment found in the relevant literature, is that the use of children as subjects of pornographic materials is harmful to the physiological, emotional, and mental health of the child.9 That judgment, we think, easily passes muster under the First Amendment.

*759Second. The distribution of photographs and films depicting sexual activity by juveniles is intrinsically related to the sexual abuse of children in at least two ways. First, the materials produced are a permanent record of the children’s participation and the harm to the child is exacerbated by their circulation.10 Second, the distribution network for child pornography must be closed if the production of material which requires the sexual exploitation of children is to be effectively controlled. Indeed, there is no serious contention that the legislature was unjustified in believing that it is difficult, if *760not impossible, to halt the exploitation of children by pursuing only those who produce the photographs and movies. While the production of pornographic materials is a low-profile, clandestine industry, the need to market the resulting products requires a visible apparatus of distribution. The most expeditious if not the only practical method of law enforcement may be to dry up the market for this material by imposing severe criminal penalties on persons selling, advertising, or otherwise promoting the product. Thirty-five States and Congress have concluded that restraints on the distribution of pornographic materials are required in order to effectively combat the problem, and there is a body of literature and testimony to support these legislative conclusions.11 Cf. United States v. Darby, 312 U. S. 100 (1941) (upholding federal restrictions on sale of goods manufactured in violation of Fair Labor Standards Act).

Respondent does not contend that the State is unjustified in pursuing those who distribute child pornography. Rather, he argues that it is enough for the State to prohibit the distribution of materials that are legally obscene under the Miller test. While some States may find that this approach properly accommodates its interests, it does not fol*761low that the First Amendment prohibits a State from going further. The Miller standard, like all general definitions of what may be banned as obscene, does not reflect the State’s particular and more compelling interest in prosecuting those who promote the sexual exploitation of children. Thus, the question under the Miller test of whether a work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest of the average person bears no connection to the issue of whether a child has been physically or psychologically harmed in the production of the work. Similarly, a sexually explicit depiction need not be “patently offensive” in order to have required the sexual exploitation of a child for its production. In addition, a work which, taken on the whole, contains serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value may nevertheless embody the hardest core of child pornography. “It is irrelevant to the child [who has been abused] whether or not the material. . . has a literary, artistic, political or social value.” Memorandum of Assemblyman Lasher in Support of §263.15. We therefore cannot conclude that the Miller standard is a satisfactory solution to the child pornography problem.12

Third. The advertising and selling of child pornography provide an economic motive for and are thus an integral part of the production of such materials, an activity illegal throughout the Nation.13 “It rarely has been suggested that *762the constitutional freedom for speech and press extends its immunity to speech or writing used as an integral part of conduct in violation of a valid criminal statute.” Giboney v. Empire Storage & Ice Co., 336 U. S. 490, 498 (1949).14 We note that were the statutes outlawing the employment of children in these films and photographs fully effective, and the constitutionality of these laws has not been questioned, the First Amendment implications would be no greater than that presented by laws against distribution: enforceable production laws would leave no child pornography to be marketed.15

Fourth. The value of permitting live performances and photographic reproductions of children engaged in lewd sexual conduct is exceedingly modest, if not de minimis. We consider it unlikely that visual depictions of children performing sexual acts or lewdly exhibiting their genitals would often constitute an important and necessary part of a literary per*763formance or scientific or educational work. As a state judge in this case observed, if it were necessary for literary or artistic value, a person over the statutory age who perhaps looked younger could be utilized.16 Simulation outside of the prohibition of the statute could provide another alternative. Nor is there any question here of censoring a particular literary theme or portrayal of sexual activity. The First Amendment interest is limited to that of rendering the portrayal somewhat more “realistic” by utilizing or photographing children.

Fifth. Recognizing and classifying child pornography as a category of material outside the protection of the First Amendment is not incompatible with our earlier decisions. “The question whether speech is, or is not, protected by the First Amendment often depends on the content of the speech.” Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U. S. 50, 66 (1976) (opinion of Stevens, J., joined by Burger, C. J., and White and Rehnquist, JJ.). See also FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S. 726, 742-748 (1978) (opinion of Stevens, J., joined by Burger, C. J., and Rehnquist, J.). “[I]t is the content of [an] utterance that determines whether it is a protected epithet or an unprotected ‘fighting comment.’” Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., supra, at 66. See Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568 (1942). Leaving aside the special considerations when public officials are the target, New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254 (1964), a libelous publication is not protected by the Constitution. Beauhamais v. Illinois, 343 U. S. 250 (1952). Thus, it is not rare that a content-based classification of speech has been accepted because it may be appropriately generalized that within the confines of the given classification, the evil to be restricted so overwhelmingly outweighs *764the expressive interests, if any, at stake, that no process of case-by-case adjudication is required. When a definable class of material, such as that covered by § 26B. 15, bears so heavily and pervasively on the welfare of children engaged in its production, we think the balance of competing interests is clearly struck and that it is permissible to consider these materials as without the protection of the First Amendment.

C

There are, of course, limits on the category of child pornography which, like obscenity, is unprotected by the First Amendment. As with all legislation in this sensitive area, the conduct to be prohibited must be adequately defined by the applicable state law, as written or authoritatively construed. Here the nature of the harm to be combated requires that the state offense be limited to works that visually depict sexual conduct by children below a specified age.17 The category of “sexual conduct” proscribed must also be suitably limited and described.

The test for child pornography is separate from the obscenity standard enunciated in Miller, but may be compared to it for the purpose of clarity. The Miller formulation is adjusted in the following respects: A trier of fact need not find that the material appeals to the prurient interest of the average person; it is not required that sexual conduct portrayed be done so in a patently offensive manner; and the material at issue need not be considered as a whole. We note that the distri*765bution of descriptions or other depictions of sexual conduct, not otherwise obscene, which do not involve live performance or photographic or other visual reproduction of live performances, retains First Amendment protection. As with obscenity laws, criminal responsibility may not be imposed without some element of scienter on the part of the defendant. Smith v. California, 361 U. S. 147 (1959); Hamling v. United States, 418 U. S. 87 (1974).

D

Section 263.15’s prohibition incorporates a definition of sexual conduct that comports with the above-stated principles. The forbidden acts to be depicted are listed with sufficient precision and represent the kind of conduct that, if it were the theme of a work, could render it legally obscene: “actual or simulated sexual intercourse, deviate sexual intercourse, sexual bestiality, masturbation, sado-masochistic abuse, or lewd exhibition of the genitals.” § 263.00(3). The term “lewd exhibition of the genitals” is not unknown in this area and, indeed, was given in Miller as an example of a permissible regulation. 413 U. S., at 25. A performance is defined only to include live or visual depictions: “any play, motion picture, photograph or dance . . . [or] other visual representation exhibited before an audience.” §263.00(4). Section 263.15 expressly includes a scienter requirement.

We hold that §263.15 sufficiently describes a category of material the production and distribution of which is not entitled to First Amendment protection. It is therefore clear that there is nothing unconstitutionally “underinclusive” about a statute that singles out this category of material for proscription.18 It also follows that the State is not barred by *766the First Amendment from prohibiting the distribution of unprotected materials produced outside the State.19

Ill

It remains to address the claim that the New York statute is unconstitutionally overbroad because it would forbid the distribution of material with serious literary, scientific, or educational value or material which does not threaten the harms sought to be combated by the State. Respondent prevailed on that ground below, and it is to that issue that we now turn.

The New York Court of Appeals recognized that over-breadth scrutiny has been limited with respect to conduct-related regulation, Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U. S. 601 (1973), but it did not apply the test enunciated in Broadrick because the challenged statute, in its view, was directed at “pure speech.” The court went on to find that §263.15 was fatally overbroad: “[T]he statute would prohibit the showing of any play or movie in which a child portrays a defined sexual act, real or simulated, in a nonobscene manner. It would also prohibit the sale, showing, or distributing of medical or educational materials containing photographs of such acts. *767Indeed, by its terms, the statute would prohibit those who oppose such portrayals from providing illustrations of what they oppose.” 52 N. Y. 2d, at 678, 422 N. E. 2d, at 525.

While the construction that a state court gives a state statute is not a matter subject to our review, Wainwright v. Stone, 414 U. S. 21, 22-28 (1973); Gooding v. Wilson, 405 U. S. 518, 520 (1972), this Court is the final arbiter of whether the Federal Constitution necessitated-the invalidation of a state law. It is only through this process of review that we may correct erroneous applications of the Constitution that err on the side of an overly broad reading of our doctrines and precedents, as well as state-court decisions giving the Constitution too little shrift. A state court is not free to avoid a proper facial attack on federal constitutional grounds. Bigelow v. Virginia, 421 U. S. 809, 817 (1975). By the same token, it should not be compelled to entertain an overbreadth attack when not required to do so by the Constitution.

A

The traditional rule is that a person to whom a statute may constitutionally be applied may not challenge that statute on the ground that it may conceivably be applied unconstitutionally to others in situations not before the Court. Broadrick v. Oklahoma, supra, at 610; United States v. Raines, 362 U. S. 17, 21 (1960); Carmichael v. Southern Coal & Coke Co., 301 U. S. 495, 513 (1937); Yazoo & M. V. R. Co. v. Jackson Vinegar Co., 226 U. S. 217, 219-220 (1912). In Broadrick, we recognized that this rule reflects two cardinal principles of our constitutional order: the personal nature of constitutional rights, McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420, 429 (1961), and prudential limitations on constitutional adjudication.20 In United States v. Raines, supra, at 21, we *768noted the “incontrovertible proposition” that it “‘would indeed be undesirable for this Court to consider every conceivable situation which might possibly arise in the application of complex and comprehensive legislation/” (quoting Barrows v. Jackson, 346 U. S. 249, 256 (1953)). By focusing on the factual situation before us, and similar cases necessary for development of a constitutional rule,21 we face “flesh-and-blood”22 legal problems with data “relevant and adequate to an informed judgment.”23 This practice also fulfills a valuable institutional purpose: it allows state courts the opportunity to construe a law to avoid constitutional infirmities.

What has come to be known as the First Amendment overbreadth doctrine is one of the few exceptions to this principle and must be justified by “weighty countervailing policies.” United States v. Raines, supra, at 22-23. The doctrine is predicated on the sensitive nature of protected expression: “persons whose expression is constitutionally protected may well refrain from exercising their rights for fear of criminal sanctions by a statute susceptible of application to protected expression.” Village of Schaumburg v. *769Citizens for a Better Environment, 444 U. S. 620, 634 (1980); Gooding v. Wilson, supra, at 521. It is for this reason that we have allowed persons to attack overly broad statutes even though the conduct of the person making the attack is clearly unprotected and could be proscribed by a law drawn with the requisite specificity. Dombrowski v. Pfister, 380 U. S. 479, 486 (1965); Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 97-98 (1940); United States v. Raines, supra, at 21-22; Gooding v. Wilson, supra, at 521.

The scope of the First Amendment overbreadth doctrine, like most exceptions to established principles, must be carefully tied to the circumstances in which facial invalidation of a statute is truly warranted. Because of the wide-reaching effects of striking down a statute on its face at the request of one whose own conduct may be punished despite the First Amendment, we have recognized that the overbreadth doctrine is “strong medicine” and have employed it with hesitation, and then “only as a last resort.” Broadrick, 413 U. S., at 613. We have, in consequence, insisted that the over-breadth involved be “substantial” before the statute involved will be invalidated on its face.24

*770In Broadrick, we explained the basis for this requirement:

“[T]he plain import of our cases is, at the very least, that facial overbreadth adjudication is an exception to our traditional rules of practice and that its function, a limited one at the outset, attenuates as the otherwise unprotected behavior that it forbids the State to sanction moves from ‘pure speech’ toward conduct and that conduct — even if expressive — falls within the scope of otherwise valid criminal laws that reflect legitimate state interests in maintaining comprehensive controls over harmful, constitutionally unprotected conduct. Although such laws, if too broadly worded, may deter protected speech to some unknown extent, there comes a point where that effect — at best a prediction — cannot, with confidence, justify invalidating a statute on its face and so prohibiting a State from enforcing the statute against conduct that is admittedly within its power to proscribe. Cf. Alderman v. United States, 394 U. S. 165, 174-175 (1969).” Id., at 615.

We accordingly held that “particularly where conduct and not merely speech is involved, we believe that the overbreadth of a statute must not only be real, but substantial as well, judged in relation to the statute’s plainly legitimate sweep.” Ibid.25

*771Broadrick examined a regulation involving restrictions on political campaign activity, an area not considered “pure speech,” and thus it was unnecessary to consider the proper overbreadth test when a law arguably reaches traditional forms of expression such as books and films. As we intimated in Broadrick, the requirement of substantial over-breadth extended “at the very least” to cases involving conduct plus speech. This case, which poses the question squarely, convinces us that the rationale of Broadrick is sound and should be applied in the present context involving the harmful employment of children to make sexually explicit materials for distribution.

The premise that a law should not be invalidated for overbreadth unless it reaches a substantial number of impermissible applications is hardly novel. On most occasions involving facial invalidation, the Court has stressed the embracing sweep of the statute over protected expression.26 *772Indeed, Justice Brennan observed in his dissenting opinion in Broadrick:

“We have never held that a statute should be held invalid on its face merely because it is possible to conceive of a single impermissible application, and in that sense a requirement of substantial overbreadth is already implicit in the doctrine.” Id., at 630.

The requirement of substantial overbreadth is directly derived from the purpose and nature of the doctrine. While a sweeping statute, or one incapable of limitation, has the potential to repeatedly chill the' exercise of expressive activity by many individuals, the extent of deterrence of protected speech can be expected to decrease with the declining reach of the regulation.27 This observation appears equally applicable to the publication of books and films as it is to activities, such as picketing or participation in election campaigns, which have previously been categorized as involving conduct plus speech. We see no appreciable difference between the position of a publisher or bookseller in doubt as to the reach of New York’s child pornography law and the situation faced by the Oklahoma state employees with respect to that State’s restriction on partisan political activity. Indeed, it could reasonably be argued that the bookseller, with an economic incentive to sell materials that may fall within the statute’s scope, may be less likely to be deterred than the employee who wishes to engage in political campaign activity. Cf. Bates v. State Bar of Arizona, 433 U. S. 350, 380-381 (1977) (overbreadth analysis inapplicable to commercial speech).

This requirement of substantial overbreadth may justifiably be applied to statutory challenges which arise in defense *773of a criminal prosecution as well as civil enforcement or actions seeking a declaratory judgment. Cf. Parker v. Levy, 417 U. S. 733, 760 (1974). Indeed, the Court’s practice when confronted with ordinary criminal laws that are sought to be applied against protected conduct is not to invalidate the law in toto, but rather to reverse the particular conviction. Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296 (1940); Edwards v. South Carolina, 372 U. S. 229 (1973). We recognize, however, that the penalty to be imposed is relevant in determining whether demonstrable overbreadth is substantial. We simply hold that the fact that a criminal prohibition is involved does not obviate the need for the inquiry or a priori warrant a finding of substantial overbreadth.

B

Applying these principles, we hold that § 263.15 is not substantially overbroad. We consider this the paradigmatic case of a state statute whose legitimate reach dwarfs its arguably impermissible applications. New York, as we have held, may constitutionally prohibit dissemination of material specified in §263.15. While the reach of the statute is directed at the hard core of child pornography, the Court of Appeals was understandably concerned that some protected expression, ranging from medical textbooks to pictorials in the National Geographic would fall prey to the statute. How often, if ever, it may be necessary to employ children to engage in conduct clearly within the reach of §263.15 in order to produce educational, medical, or artistic works cannot be known with certainty. Yet we seriously doubt, and it has not been suggested, that these arguably impermissible applications of the statute amount to more than a tiny fraction of the materials within the statute’s reach. Nor will we assume that the New York courts will widen the possibly invalid reach of the statute by giving an expansive construction to the proscription on “lewd exhibition[s] of the genitals.” Under these circumstances, §263.15 is “not substantially overbroad and . . . whatever overbreadth may exist *774should be cured through case-by-case analysis of the fact situations to which its sanctions, assertedly, may not be applied.” Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U. S., at 615-616.

IV

Because § 263.15 is not substantially overbroad, it is unnecessary to consider its application to material that does not depict sexual conduct of a type that New York may restrict consistent with the First Amendment. As applied to Paul Ferber and to others who distribute similar material, the statute does not violate the First Amendment as applied to the States through the Fourteenth.28 The judgment of the New York Court of Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded to that court for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion.

So ordered.

Justice Blackmun concurs in the result.

Justice O’Connor,

concurring.

Although I join the Court’s opinion, I write separately to stress that the Court does not hold that New York must except “material with serious literary, scientific, or educational value,” ante, at 766, from its statute. The Court merely holds that, even if the First Amendment shelters such material, New York’s current statute is not sufficiently overbroad to support respondent’s facial attack. The compelling interests identified in today’s opinion, see ante, at 756-764, suggest that the Constitution might in fact permit New York to ban knowing distribution of works depicting minors engaged in explicit sexual conduct, regardless of the social value of the depictions. For example, a 12-year-old child photographed while *775masturbating surely suffers the same psychological harm whether the community labels the photograph “edifying” or “tasteless.” The audience’s appreciation of the depiction is simply irrelevant to New York’s asserted interest in protecting children from psychological, emotional, and mental harm.

An exception for depictions of serious social value, moreover, would actually increase opportunities for the content-based censorship disfavored by the First Amendment. As drafted, New York’s statute does not attempt to suppress the communication of particular ideas. The statute permits discussion of child sexuality, forbidding only attempts to render the “portrayal[s] somewhat more ‘realistic’ by utilizing or photographing children.” Ante, at 763. Thus, the statute attempts to protect minors from abuse without attempting to restrict the expression of ideas by those who might use children as live models.

On the other hand, it is quite possible that New York’s statute is overbroad because it bans depictions that do not actually threaten the harms identified by the Court. For example, clinical pictures of adolescent sexuality, such as those that might appear in medical textbooks, might not involve the type of sexual exploitation and abuse targeted by New York’s statute. Nor might such depictions feed the poisonous “kiddie porn” market that New York and other States have attempted to regulate. Similarly, pictures of children engaged in rites widely approved by their cultures, such as those that might appear in issues of the National Geographic, might not trigger the compelling interests identified by the Court. It is not necessary to address these possibilities further today, however, because this potential overbreadth is not sufficiently substantial to warrant facial invalidation of New York’s statute.

Justice Brennan,

with whom Justice Marshall joins,

concurring in the judgment.

I agree with much of what is said in the Court’s opinion. As I made clear in the opinion I delivered for the Court in *776Ginsburg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629 (1968), the State has a special interest in protecting the well-being of its youth. Id., at 638-641. See also Globe Newspaper Co. v. Superior Court, 457 U. S. 596, 607 (1982). This special and compelling interest, and the particular vulnerability of children, afford the State the leeway to regulate pornographic material, the promotion of which is harmful to children, even though the State does not have such leeway when it seeks only to protect consenting adults from exposure to such material. Ginsburg v. New York, supra, at 637, 638, n. 6, 642-643, n. 10. See also Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 195 (1964) (opinion of Brennan, J.). I also agree with the Court that the “tiny fraction,” ante, at 773, of material of serious artistic, scientific, or educational value that could conceivably fall within the reach of the statute is insufficient to justify striking the statute on the grounds of overbreadth. See Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U. S. 601, 630 (1973) (Brennan, J., dissenting).

But in my view application of §263.15 or any similar statute to depictions of children that in themselves do have serious literary, artistic, scientific, or medical value, would violate the First Amendment. As the Court recognizes, the limited classes of speech, the suppression of which does not raise serious First Amendment concerns, have two attributes. They are of exceedingly “slight social value,” and the State has a compelling interest in their regulation. See Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 571-572 (1942). The First Amendment value of depictions of children that are in themselves serious contributions to art, literature, or science, is, by definition, simply not “de minimis.” See ante, at 761. At the same time, the State’s interest in suppression of such materials is likely to be far less compelling. For the Court’s assumption of harm to the child resulting from the “permanent record” and “circulation” of the child’s “participation,” ante, at 759, lacks much of its force where the depiction is a serious contribution to art or science. The production of materials of serious value is not the “low-*777profile, clandestine industry” that according to the Court produces purely pornographic materials. See ante, at 760. In short, it is inconceivable how a depiction of a child that is itself a serious contribution to the world of art or literature or science can be deemed “material outside the protection of the First Amendment.” See ante, at 763.

I, of course, adhere to my view that, in the absence of exposure, or particular harm, to juveniles or unconsenting adults, the State lacks power to suppress sexually oriented materials. See, e. g., Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49, 73 (1973) (Brennan, J., dissenting). With this understanding, I concur in the Court’s judgment in this case.

Justice Stevens,

concurring in the judgment.

Two propositions seem perfectly clear to me. First, the specific conduct that gave rise to this criminal prosecution is not protected by the Federal Constitution; second, the state statute that respondent violated prohibits some conduct that is protected by the First Amendment. The critical question, then, is whether this respondent, to whom the statute may be applied without violating the Constitution, may challenge the statute on the ground that it conceivably may be applied unconstitutionally to others in situations not before the Court. I agree with the Court’s answer to this question but not with its method of analyzing the issue.

Before addressing that issue, I shall explain why respondent’s conviction does not violate the Constitution. The two films that respondent sold contained nothing more than lewd exhibition; there is no claim that the films included any material that had literary, artistic, scientific, or educational value.1 Respondent was a willing participant in a commercial market that the State of New York has a legitimate interest in suppressing. The character of the State’s interest in protecting children from sexual abuse justifies the imposition *778of criminal sanctions against those who profit, directly or indirectly, from the promotion of such films. In this respect my evaluation of this case is different from the opinion I have expressed concerning the imposition of criminal sanctions for the promotion of obscenity in other contexts.2

A holding that respondent may be punished for selling these two films does not require us to conclude that other users of these very films, or that other motion pictures containing similar scenes, are beyond the pale of constitutional protection. Thus, the exhibition of these films before a legislative committee studying a proposed amendment to a state law, or before a group of research scientists studying human behavior, could not, in my opinion, be made a crime. Moreover, it is at least conceivable that a serious work of art, a documentary on behavioral problems, or a medical or psychiatric teaching device, might include a scene from one of these films and, when viewed as a whole in a proper setting, be entitled to constitutional protection. The question whether a specific act of communication is protected by the First Amendment always requires some consideration of both its content and its context.

The Court’s holding that this respondent may not challenge New York’s statute as overbroad follows its discussion of the contours of the category of nonobscene child pornography that New York may legitimately prohibit. Having defined that category in an abstract setting,3 the Court makes the *779empirical judgment that the arguably impermissible application of the New York statute amounts to only a “tiny fraction of the materials within the statute’s reach.” Ante, at 773. Even assuming that the Court’s empirical analysis is sound,4 I believe a more conservative approach to the issue would adequately vindicate the State’s interest in protecting its children and cause less harm to the federal interest in free expression.

A hypothetical example will illustrate my concern. Assume that the operator of a New York motion picture theater specializing in the exhibition of foreign feature films is offered a full-length movie containing one scene that is plainly lewd if viewed in isolation but that nevertheless is part of a serious work of art. If the child actor resided abroad, New York’s interest in protecting its young from sexual exploitation would be far less compelling than in the case before us. The federal interest in free expression would, however, be just as strong as if an adult actor had been used. There are at least three different ways to deal with the statute’s potential application to that sort of case.

First, at one extreme and as the Court appears to hold, the First Amendment inquiry might be limited to determining *780whether the offensive scene, viewed in isolation, is lewd. When the constitutional protection is narrowed in this drastic fashion, the Court is probably safe in concluding that only a tiny fraction of the materials covered by the New York statute is protected. And with respect to my hypothetical exhibitor of foreign films, he need have no uncertainty about the permissible application of the statute; for the one lewd scene would deprive the entire film of any constitutional protection.

Second, at the other extreme and as the New York Court of Appeals correctly perceived, the application of this Court’s cases requiring that an obscenity determination be based on the artistic value of a production taken as a whole would afford the exhibitor constitutional protection and result in a holding that the statute is invalid because of its overbreadth. Under that approach, the rationale for invalidating the entire statute is premised on the concern that the exhibitor’s understanding about its potential reach could cause him to engage in self-censorship. This Court’s approach today substitutes broad, unambiguous, state-imposed censorship for the self-censorship that an overbroad statute might produce.

Third, as an intermediate position, I would refuse to apply overbreadth analysis for reasons unrelated to any prediction concerning the relative number of protected communications that the statute may prohibit. Specifically, I would postpone decision of my hypothetical case until it actually arises. Advocates of a liberal use of overbreadth analysis could object to such postponement on the ground that it creates the risk that the exhibitor’s uncertainty may produce self-censorship. But that risk obviously interferes less with the interest in free expression than does an abstract, advance ruling that the film is simply unprotected whenever it contains a lewd scene, no matter how brief.

My reasons for avoiding overbreadth analysis in this case are more qualitative than quantitative. When we follow our *781traditional practice of adjudicating difficult and novel constitutional questions only in concrete factual situations, the adjudications tend to be crafted with greater wisdom. Hypothetical rulings are inherently treacherous and prone to lead us into unforeseen errors; they are qualitatively less reliable than the products of case-by-case adjudication.

Moreover, it is probably safe to assume that the category of speech that is covered by the New York statute generally is of a lower quality than most other types of communication. On a number of occasions, I have expressed the view that the First Amendment affords some forms of speech more protection from governmental regulation than other forms of speech.5 Today the Court accepts this view, putting the category of speech described in the New York statute in its rightful place near the bottom of this hierarchy. Ante, at 761-763. Although I disagree with the Court’s position that such speech is totally without First Amendment protection, I agree that generally marginal speech does not warrant the extraordinary protection afforded by the overbreadth doctrine.6

Because I have no difficulty with the statute’s application in this case, I concur in the Court’s judgment.

15.27 Hazelwood School District v. Kuhlmeier 15.27 Hazelwood School District v. Kuhlmeier

No. 86-836.

HAZELWOOD SCHOOL DISTRICT et al.
v.
KUHLMEIER et al.

Decided January 13, 1988
Argued October 13, 1987

White, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Rehnquist, C. J., and Stevens, O’Connor, and Scalia, JJ., joined. Brennan, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Marshall and Blackmun, JJ., joined, post, p. 277.

Robert P. Baine, Jr., argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs were John Gianoulakis and Robert T. Haar.

Leslie D. Edwards argued the cause and filed a brief for respondents. *

*

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the American Civil Liberties Union et al. by Janet L. Benshoof, John A. Powell, Steven 12. Shapiro, and Frank Susman; for the American Society of Newspaper Editors et al. by Richard M. Schmidt, Jr.; for People for the American Way by Marvin E. Frankel; for the NOW Legal Defense and Education Fund et al. by Martha L. Minow, Sarah E. Bums, and Marsha Levick; for the Planned Parenthood Federation of America, Inc., et al. by Eve W. Paul; and for the Student Press Law Center et al. by J. Marc Abrams.

Briefs of amici curiae were filed for the National School Boards Asso­ciation et al. by Gwendolyn H. Gregory, August W. Steinhilber, Thomas A. Shannon, and Ivan B. Gluckman; and for the School Board of Dade County, Florida, by Frank A. Howard, Jr., and Johnny Brown.

Justice White delivered the opinion of the Court.

This case concerns the extent to which educators may exer­cise editorial control over the contents of a high school news­paper produced as part of the school’s journalism curriculum.

I

Petitioners are the Hazelwood School District in St. Louis County, Missouri; various school officials; Robert Eugene Reynolds, the principal of Hazelwood East High School; and Howard Emerson, a teacher in the school district. Respond­ents are three former Hazelwood East students who were staff members of Spectrum, the school newspaper. They contend that school officials violated their First Amendment rights by deleting two pages of articles from the May 13, 1983, issue of Spectrum.

Spectrum was written and edited by the Journalism II class at Hazelwood East. The newspaper was published every three weeks or so during the 1982-1983 school year. More than 4,500 copies of the newspaper were distributed during that year to students, school personnel, and members of the community.

The Board of Education allocated funds from its annual budget for the printing of Spectrum. These funds were sup­plemented by proceeds from sales of the newspaper. The printing expenses during the 1982-1983 school year totaled $4,668.50; revenue from sales was $1,166.84. The other costs associated with the newspaper — such as supplies, text­books, and a portion of the journalism teacher’s salary — were borne entirely by the Board.

The Journalism II course was taught by Robert Stergos for most of the 1982-1983 academic year. Stergos left Hazel-­wood East to take a job in private industry on April 29, 1983, when the May 13 edition of Spectrum was nearing comple­tion, and petitioner Emerson took his place as newspaper ad­viser for the remaining weeks of the term.

The practice at Hazelwood East during the spring 1983 se­mester was for the journalism teacher to submit page proofs of each Spectrum issue to Principal Reynolds for his review prior to publication. On May 10, Emerson delivered the proofs of the May 13 edition to Reynolds, who objected to two of the articles scheduled to appear in that edition. One of the stories described three Hazelwood East students’ ex­periences with pregnancy; the other discussed the impact of divorce on students at the school.

Reynolds was concerned that, although the pregnancy story used false names “to keep the identity of these girls a secret,” the pregnant students still might be identifiable from the text. He also believed that the article’s references to sexual activity and birth control were inappropriate for some of the younger students at the school. In addition, Reynolds was concerned that a student identified by name in the di­vorce story had complained that her father “wasn’t spend­ing enough time with my mom, my sister and I” prior to the divorce, “was always out of town on business or out late play­ing cards with the guys,” and “always argued about every­thing” with her mother. App. to Pet. for Cert. 38. Reyn­olds believed that the student’s parents should have been given an opportunity to respond to these remarks or to con­sent to their publication. He was unaware that Emerson had deleted the student’s name from the final version of the article.

Reynolds believed that there was no time to make the nec­essary changes in the stories before the scheduled press run and that the newspaper would not appear before the end of the school year if printing were delayed to any significant ex­tent. He concluded that his only options under the circum­stances were to publish a four-page newspaper instead of the planned six-page newspaper, eliminating the two pages on which the offending stories appeared, or to publish no news­paper at all. Accordingly, he directed Emerson to withhold from publication the two pages containing the stories on pregnancy and divorce.1 He informed his superiors of the decision, and they concurred.

Respondents subsequently commenced this action in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Mis­souri seeking a declaration that their First Amendment rights had been violated, injunctive relief, and monetary damages. After a bench trial, the District Court denied an injunction, holding that no First Amendment violation had occurred. 607 F. Supp. 1450 (1985).

The District Court concluded that school officials may im­pose restraints on students’ speech in activities that are “‘an integral part of the school’s educational function’” — in­cluding the publication of a school-sponsored newspaper by a journalism class — so long as their decision has “‘a substan­tial and reasonable basis.’” Id., at 1466 (quoting Frasca v. Andrews, 463 F. Supp. 1043, 1052 (EDNY 1979)). The court found that Principal Reynolds’ concern that the pregnant students’ anonymity would be lost and their privacy invaded was “legitimate and reasonable,” given “the small number of pregnant students at Hazelwood East and several identify­ing characteristics that were disclosed in the article.” 607 F. Supp., at 1466. The court held that Reynolds’ action was also justified “to avoid the impression that [the school] en­dorses the sexual norms of the subjects” and to shield younger students from exposure to unsuitable material. Ibid. The deletion of the article on divorce was seen by the court as a reasonable response to the invasion of privacy concerns raised by the named student’s remarks. Because the article did not indicate that the student’s parents had been offered an opportunity to respond to her allegations, said the court, there was cause for “serious doubt that the article complied with the rules of fairness which are standard in the field of journalism and which were covered in the textbook used in the Journalism II class.” Id., at 1467. Furthermore, the court concluded that Reynolds was justified in deleting two full pages of the newspaper, instead of deleting only the preg­nancy and divorce stories or requiring that those stories be modified to address his concerns, based on his “reasonable belief that he had to make an immediate decision and that there was no time to make modifications to the articles in question.” Id., at 1466.

The Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit reversed. 795 F. 2d 1368 (1986). The court held at the outset that Spectrum was not only “a part of the school adopted curricu­lum,” id., at 1373, but also a public forum, because the news­paper was “intended to be and operated as a conduit for stu­dent viewpoint.” Id., at 1372. The court then concluded that Spectrum’s status as a public forum precluded school of­ficials from censoring its contents except when “ ‘necessary to avoid material and substantial interference with school work or discipline ... or the rights of others.’” Id., at 1374 (quot­ing Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503, 511 (1969)).

The Court of Appeals found “no evidence in the record that the principal could have reasonably forecast that the cen­sored articles or any materials in the censored articles would have materially disrupted elasswork or given rise to substan­tial disorder in the school.” 795 F. 2d, at 1375. School offi­cials were entitled to censor the articles on the ground that they invaded the rights of others, according to the court, only if publication of the articles could have resulted in tort lia­bility to the school. The court concluded that no tort action for libel or invasion of privacy could have been maintained against the school by the subjects of the two articles or by their families. Accordingly, the court held that school offi­cials had violated respondents’ First Amendment rights by deleting the two pages of the newspaper.

We granted certiorari, 479 U. S. 1053 (1987), and we now reverse.

II

Students in the public schools do not “shed their constitu­tional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the school­house gate.” Tinker, supra, at 506. They cannot be pun­ished merely for expressing their personal views on the school premises — whether “in the cafeteria, or on the playing field, or on the campus during the authorized hours,” 393 U. S., at 512-513 — unless school authorities have reason to believe that such expression will “substantially interfere with the work of the school or impinge upon the rights of other students.” Id., at 509.

We have nonetheless recognized that the First Amend­ment rights of students in the public schools “are not auto­matically coextensive with the rights of adults in other settings,” Bethel School District No. 403 v. Fraser, 478 U. S. 675, 682 (1986), and must be “applied in light of the special characteristics of the school environment.” Tinker, supra, at 506; cf. New Jersey v. T. L. O., 469 U. S. 325, 341-343 (1985). A school need not tolerate student speech that is inconsistent with its “basic educational mission,” Fraser, supra, at 685, even though the government could not censor similar speech outside the school. Accordingly, we held in Fraser that a student could be disciplined for having deliv­ered a speech that was “sexually explicit” but not legally obscene at an official school assembly, because the school was entitled to “disassociate itself” from the speech in a man­ner that would demonstrate to others that such vulgarity is “wholly inconsistent with the ‘fundamental values’ of public school education.” 478 U. S., at 685-686. We thus recog­nized that “[t]he determination of what manner of speech in the classroom or in school assembly is inappropriate properly rests with the school board,” id., at 683, rather than with the federal courts. It is in this context that respondents’ First Amendment claims must be considered.

A

We deal first with the question whether Spectrum may ap­propriately be characterized as a forum for public expression. The public schools do not possess all of the attributes of streets, parks, and other traditional public forums that “time out of mind, have been used for purposes of assembly, com­municating thoughts between citizens, and discussing public questions.” Hague v. CIO, 307 U. S. 496, 515 (1939). Cf. Widmar v. Vincent, 454 U. S. 263, 267-268, n. 5 (1981). Hence, school facilities may be deemed to be public forums only if school authorities have “by policy or by practice” opened those facilities “for indiscriminate use by the general public,” Perry Education Assn. v. Perry Local Educators’ Assn., 460 U. S. 37, 47 (1983), or by some segment of the public, such as student organizations. Id., at 46, n. 7 (citing Widmar v. Vincent). If the facilities have instead been re­served for other intended purposes, “communicative or oth­erwise,” then no public forum has been created, and school officials may impose reasonable restrictions on the speech of students, teachers, and other members of the school com­munity. 460 U. S., at 46, n. 7. “The government does not create a public forum by inaction or by permitting limited discourse, but only by intentionally opening a nontraditional forum for public discourse.” Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Educational Fund, Inc., 473 U. S. 788, 802 (1985).

The policy of school officials toward Spectrum was reflected in Hazelwood School Board Policy 348.51 and the Hazelwood East Curriculum Guide. Board Policy 348.51 provided that “[s]chool sponsored publications are developed within the adopted curriculum and its educational implications in regular classroom activities.” App. 22. The Hazelwood East Cur­riculum Guide described the Journalism II course as a “lab­oratory situation in which the students publish the school newspaper applying skills they have learned in Journalism I.” Id., at 11. The lessons that were to be learned from the Journalism II course, according to the Curriculum Guide, in­cluded development of journalistic skills under deadline pres­sure, “the legal, moral, and ethical restrictions imposed upon journalists within the school community,” and “responsibility and acceptance of criticism for articles of opinion.” Ibid. Journalism II was taught by a faculty member during regular class hours. Students received grades and academic credit for their performance in the course.

School officials did not deviate in practice from their policy that production of Spectrum was to be part of the educational curriculum and a “regular classroom activity].” The Dis­trict Court found that Robert Stergos, the journalism teacher during most of the 1982-1983 school year, “both had the au­thority to exercise and in fact exercised a great deal of con­trol over Spectrum.” 607 F. Supp., at 1453. For example, Stergos selected the editors of the newspaper, scheduled publication dates, decided the number of pages for each issue, assigned story ideas to class members, advised stu­dents on the development of their stories, reviewed the use of quotations, edited stories, selected and edited the letters to the editor, and dealt with the printing company. Many of these decisions were made without consultation with the Journalism II students. The District Court thus found it “clear that Mr. Stergos was the final authority with respect to almost every aspect of the production and publication of Spectrum, including its content.” Ibid. Moreover, after each Spectrum issue had been finally approved by Stergos or his successor, the issue still had to be reviewed by Principal Reynolds prior to publication. Respondents’ assertion that they had believed that they could publish “practically any­thing” in Spectrum was therefore dismissed by the District Court as simply “not credible.” Id., at 1456. These factual findings are amply supported by the record, and were not re­jected as clearly erroneous by the Court of Appeals.

The evidence relied upon by the Court of Appeals in find­ing Spectrum to be a public forum, see 795 F. 2d, at 1372-­1373, is equivocal at best. For example, Board Policy 348.51, which stated in part that “[sjchool sponsored student publica­tions will not restrict free expression or diverse viewpoints within the rules of responsible journalism,” also stated that such publications were “developed within the adopted cur­riculum and its educational implications.” App. 22. One might reasonably infer from the full text of Policy 348.51 that school officials retained ultimate control over what consti­tuted “responsible journalism” in a school-sponsored news­paper. Although the Statement of Policy published in the September 14, 1982, issue of Spectrum declared that “Spec­trum, as a student-press publication, accepts all rights im­plied by the First Amendment,” this statement, understood in the context of the paper’s role in the school’s curriculum, suggests at most that the administration will not interfere with the students’ exercise of those First Amendment rights that attend the publication of a school-sponsored newspaper. It does not reflect an intent to expand those rights by con­verting a curricular newspaper into a public forum.2 Fi­nally, that students were permitted to exercise some author­ity over the contents of Spectrum was fully consistent with the Curriculum Guide objective of teaching the Journalism II students “leadership responsibilities as issue and page edi­tors.” App. 11. A decision to teach leadership skills in the context of a classroom activity hardly implies a decision to re­linquish school control over that activity. In sum, the evi­dence relied upon by the Court of Appeals fails to demon­strate the “clear intent to create a public forum,” Cornelius, 473 U. S., at 802, that existed in cases in which we found public forums to have been created. See id., at 802-803 (cit­ing Widmar v. Vincent, 454 U. S., at 267; Madison School District v. Wisconsin Employment Relations Comm’n, 429 U. S. 167, 174, n. 6 (1976); Southeastern Promotions, Ltd. v. Conrad, 420 U. S. 546, 555 (1975)). School officials did not evince either “by policy or by practice,” Perry Education Assn., 460 U. S., at 47, any intent to open the pages of Spec­trum to “indiscriminate use,” ibid., by its student reporters and editors, or by the student body generally. Instead, they “reserve[d] the forum for its intended purpos[e],” id., at 46, as a supervised learning experience for journalism students. Accordingly, school officials were entitled to regulate the contents of Spectrum in any reasonable manner. Ibid. It is this standard, rather than our decision in Tinker, that gov­erns this case.

B

The question whether the First Amendment requires a school to tolerate particular student speech — the question that we addressed in Tinker — is different from the question whether the First Amendment requires a school affirma­tively to promote particular student speech. The former question addresses educators’ ability to silence a student’s personal expression that happens to occur on the school premises. The latter question concerns educators’ authority over school-sponsored publications, theatrical productions, and other expressive activities that students, parents, and members of the public might reasonably perceive to bear the imprimatur of the school. These activities may fairly be characterized as part of the school curriculum, whether or not they occur in a traditional classroom setting, so long as they are supervised by faculty members and designed to im­part particular knowledge or skills to student participants and audiences.3

Educators are entitled to exercise greater control over this second form of student expression to assure that participants learn whatever lessons the activity is designed to teach, that readers or listeners are not exposed to material that may be inappropriate for their level of maturity, and that the views of the individual speaker are not erroneously attributed to the school. Hence, a school may in its capacity as publisher of a school newspaper or producer of a school play “disassoci­ate itself,” Fraser, 478 U. S., at 685, not only from speech that would “substantially interfere with [its] work ... or im­pinge upon the rights of other students,” Tinker, 393 U. S., at 509, but also from speech that is, for example, ungram­matical, poorly written, inadequately researched, biased or prejudiced, vulgar or profane, or unsuitable for immature aud­iences.4 A school must be able to set high standards for the student speech that is disseminated under its auspices — standards that may be higher than those demanded by some newspaper publishers or theatrical producers in the “real” world — and may refuse to disseminate student speech that does not meet those standards. In addition, a school must be able to take into account the emotional maturity of the intended audience in determining whether to disseminate student speech on potentially sensitive topics, which might range from the existence of Santa Claus in an elementary school setting to the particulars of teenage sexual activity in a high school setting. A school must also retain the author­ity to refuse to sponsor student speech that might reasonably be perceived to advocate drug or alcohol use, irresponsible sex, or conduct otherwise inconsistent with “the shared val­ues of a civilized social order,” Fraser, supra, at 683, or to associate the school with any position other than neutrality on matters of political controversy. Otherwise, the schools would be unduly constrained from fulfilling their role as “a principal instrument in awakening the child to cultural val­ues, in preparing him for later professional training, and in helping him to adjust normally to his environment.” Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483, 493 (1954).

Accordingly, we conclude that the standard articulated in Tinker for determining when a school may punish student ex­pression need not also be the standard for determining when a school may refuse to lend its name and resources to the dis­semination of student expression.5 Instead, we hold that educators do not offend the First Amendment by exercising editorial control over the style and content of student speech in school-sponsored expressive activities so long as their actions are reasonably related to legitimate pedagogical concerns.6

This standard is consistent with our oft-expressed view that the education of the Nation’s youth is primarily the responsibility of parents, teachers, and state and local school officials, and not of federal judges. See, e. g., Board of Edu­cation of Hendrick Hudson Central School Dist. v. Rowley, 458 U. S. 176, 208 (1982); Wood v. Strickland, 420 U. S. 308, 326 (1975); Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U. S. 97, 104 (1968). It is only when the decision to censor a school-sponsored publication, theatrical production, or other vehicle of student expression has no valid educational purpose that the First Amendment is so “directly and sharply implicated],” ibid., as to require judicial intervention to protect students’ con­stitutional rights.7

Ill

We also conclude that Principal Reynolds acted reasonably in requiring the deletion from the May 13 issue of Spectrum of the pregnancy article, the divorce article, and the remain­ing articles that were to appear on the same pages of the newspaper.

The initial paragraph of the pregnancy article declared that “[a]ll names have been changed to keep the identity of these girls a secret.” The principal concluded that the students’ anonymity was not adequately protected, however, given the other identifying information in the article and the small number of pregnant students at the school. Indeed, a teacher at the school credibly testified that she could posi­tively identify at least one of the girls and possibly all three. It is likely that many students at Hazelwood East would have been at least as successful in identifying the girls. Reynolds therefore could reasonably have feared that the article vio­lated whatever pledge of anonymity had been given to the pregnant students. In addition, he could reasonably have been concerned that the article was not sufficiently sensitive to the privacy interests of the students’ boyfriends and par­ents, who were discussed in the article but who were given no opportunity to consent to its publication or to offer a re­sponse. The article did not contain graphic accounts of sex­ual activity. The girls did comment in the article, however, concerning their sexual histories and their use or nonuse of birth control. It was not unreasonable for the principal to have concluded that such frank talk was inappropriate in a school-sponsored publication distributed to 14-year-old fresh­men and presumably taken home to be read by students’ even younger brothers and sisters.

The student who was quoted by name in the version of the divorce article seen by Principal Reynolds made comments sharply critical of her father. The principal could reasonably have concluded that an individual publicly identified as an inattentive parent — indeed, as one who chose “playing cards with the guys” over home and family — was entitled to an opportunity to defend himself as a matter of journalistic fair­ness. These concerns were shared by both of Spectrum’s faculty advisers for the 1982-1983 school year, who testified that they would not have allowed the article to be printed without deletion of the student’s name.8

Principal Reynolds testified credibly at trial that, at the time that he reviewed the proofs of the May 13 issue during an extended telephone conversation with Emerson, he be­lieved that there was no time to make any changes in the arti­cles, and that the newspaper had to be printed immediately or not at all. It is true that Reynolds did not verify whether the necessary modifications could still have been made in the articles, and that Emerson did not volunteer the information that printing could be delayed until the changes were made. We nonetheless agree with the District Court that the de­cision to excise the two pages containing the problematic articles was reasonable given the particular circumstances of this case. These circumstances included the very recent replacement of Stergos by Emerson, who may not have been entirely familiar with Spectrum editorial and production pro­cedures, and the pressure felt by Reynolds to make an imme­diate decision so that students would not be deprived of the newspaper altogether.

In sum, we cannot reject as unreasonable Principal Reyn­olds’ conclusion that neither the pregnancy article nor the divorce article was suitable for publication in Spectrum. Reynolds could reasonably have concluded that the students who had written and edited these articles had not sufficiently mastered those portions of the Journalism II curriculum that pertained to the treatment of controversial issues and per­sonal attacks, the need to protect the privacy of individuals whose most intimate concerns are to be revealed in the news­paper, and “the legal, moral, and ethical restrictions imposed upon journalists within [a] school community” that includes adolescent subjects and readers. Finally, we conclude that the principal’s decision to delete two pages of Spectrum, rather than to delete only the offending articles or to require that they be modified, was reasonable under the circum­stances as he understood them. Accordingly, no violation of First Amendment rights occurred.9

The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Eighth Cir­cuit is therefore

Reversed.

1

2 The Statement also cited Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Commu­nity School Dist., 393 U. S. 503 (1969), for the proposition that “[o]nly speech that ‘materially and substantially interferes with the requirements of appropriate discipline’ can be found unacceptable and therefore be pro­hibited.” App. 26. This portion of the Statement does not, of course, even accurately reflect our holding in Tinker. Furthermore, the State­ment nowhere expressly extended the Tinker standard to the news and feature articles contained in a school-sponsored newspaper. The dissent apparently finds as a fact that the Statement was published annually in Spectrum; however, the District Court was unable to conclude that the Statement appeared on more than one occasion. In any event, even if the Statement says what the dissent believes that it says, the evidence that school officials never intended to designate Spectrum as a public forum re­mains overwhelming.

3 The distinction that we draw between speech that is sponsored by the school and speech that is not is fully consistent with Papish v. University of Missouri Board of Curators, 410 U. S. 667 (1973) (per curiam), which involved an off-campus “underground” newspaper that school officials merely had allowed to be sold on a state university campus.

4 The dissent perceives no difference between the First Amendment analysis applied in Tinker and that applied in Fraser. We disagree. The decision in Fraser rested on the “vulgar,” “lewd,” and “plainly offensive” character of a speech delivered at an official school assembly rather than on any propensity of the speech to “materially disrup[t] classwork or involv[e] substantial disorder or invasion of the rights of others.” 393 U. S., at 513. Indeed, the Fraser Court cited as “especially relevant” a portion of Justice Black’s dissenting opinion in Tinker “ ‘disclaiming] any purpose ... to hold that the Federal Constitution compels the teachers, parents, and elected school officials to surrender control of the American public school system to public school students.’” 478 U. S., at 686 (quoting 393 U. S., at 526). Of course, Justice Black’s observations are equally rele­vant to the instant case.

5

6 We reject respondents’ suggestion that school officials be permitted to exercise prepublication control over school-sponsored publications only pursuant to specific written regulations. To require such regulations in the context of a curricular activity could unduly constrain the ability of educators to educate. We need not now decide whether such regulations are required before school officials may censor publications not sponsored by the school that students seek to distribute on school grounds. See Baughman v. Freienmuth, 478 F. 2d 1345 (CA4 1973); Shanley v. North­east Independent School Dist., Bexar Cty., Tex., 462 F. 2d 960 (CA5 1972); Eisner v. Stamford Board of Education, 440 F. 2d 803 (CA2 1971).

7 A number of lower federal courts have similarly recognized that educators’ decisions with regard to the content of school-sponsored news­papers, dramatic productions, and other expressive activities are entitled to substantial deference. See, e. g., Nicholson v. Board of Education, Torrance Unified School Dist., 682 F. 2d 858 (CA9 1982); Seyfried v. Wal­ton, 668 F. 2d 214 (CA3 1981); Trachtman v. Anker, 563 F. 2d 512 (CA2 1977), cert. denied, 435 U. S. 925 (1978); Frasca v. Andrews, 463 F. Supp. 1043 (EDNY 1979). We need not now decide whether the same degree of deference is appropriate with respect to school-sponsored expressive activ­ities at the college and university level.

8 The reasonableness of Principal Reynolds’ concerns about the two arti­cles was further substantiated by the trial testimony of Martin Duggan, a former editorial page editor of the St. Louis Globe Democrat and a former college journalism instructor and newspaper adviser. Duggan testified that the divorce story did not meet journalistic standards of fairness and balance because the father was not given an opportunity to respond, and that the pregnancy story was not appropriate for publication in a high school newspaper because it was unduly intrusive into the privacy of the girls, their parents, and their boyfriends. The District Court found Duggan to be “an objective and independent witness” whose testimony was entitled to significant weight. 607 F. Supp. 1450, 1461 (ED Mo. 1985).

9

Justice Brennan, with whom Justice Marshall and Justice Blackmun join, dissenting.

When the young men and women of Hazelwood East High School registered for Journalism II, they expected a civics lesson. Spectrum, the newspaper they were to publish, “was not just a class exercise in which students learned to prepare papers and hone writing skills, it was a . . . forum established to give students an opportunity to express their views while gaining an appreciation of their rights and responsibilities under the First Amendment to the United States Constitution .......” 795 F. 2d 1368, 1373 (CA8 1986). “[A]t the beginning of each school year,” id., at 1372, the student journalists published a Statement of Policy — tacitly approved each year by school authorities — announcing their expectation that “Spectrum, as a student-press publication, accepts all rights implied by the First Amendment .... Only speech that ‘materially and substantially interferes with the requirements of appropriate discipline’ can be found unac­ceptable and therefore prohibited.” App. 26 (quoting Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503, 513 (1969)).1 The school board itself affirma­tively guaranteed the students of Journalism II an atmos­phere conducive to fostering such an appreciation and ex­ercising the full panoply of rights associated with a free student press. “School sponsored student publications,” it vowed, “will not restrict free expression or diverse view­points within the rules of responsible journalism.” App. 22 (Board Policy 348.51).

This case arose when the Hazelwood East administration breached its own promise, dashing its students’ expectations. The school principal, without prior consultation or explana­tion, excised six articles — comprising two full pages — of the May 13, 1983, issue of Spectrum. He did so not because any of the articles would “materially and substantially interfere with the requirements of appropriate discipline,” but simply because he considered two of the six “inappropriate, per­sonal, sensitive, and unsuitable” for student consumption. 795 F. 2d, at 1371.

In my view the principal broke more than just a promise. He violated the First Amendment’s prohibitions against censorship of any student expression that neither disrupts classwork nor invades the rights of others, and against any censorship that is not narrowly tailored to serve its purpose.

I

Public education serves vital national interests in prepar­ing the Nation’s youth for life in our increasingly complex society and for the duties of citizenship in our democratic Republic. See Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483, 493 (1954). The public school conveys to our young the in­formation and tools required not merely to survive in, but to contribute to, civilized society. It also inculcates in tomor­row’s leaders the “fundamental values necessary to the main­tenance of a democratic political system . . . .” Ambach v. Norwick, 441 U. S. 68, 77 (1979). All the while, the public educator nurtures students’ social and moral development by transmitting to them an official dogma of “ ‘community val­ues.’” Board of Education v. Pico, 457 U. S. 853, 864 (1982) (plurality opinion) (citation omitted).

The public educator’s task is weighty and delicate indeed. It demands particularized and supremely subjective choices among diverse curricula, moral values, and political stances to teach or inculcate in students, and among various method­ologies for doing so. Accordingly, we have traditionally re­served the “daily operation of school systems” to the States and their local school boards. Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U. S. 97, 104 (1968); see Board of Education v. Pico, supra, at 863-864. We have not, however, hesitated to intervene where their decisions run afoul of the Constitution. See e. g., Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U. S. 578 (1987) (striking state statute that forbade teaching of evolution in public school unless accompanied by instruction on theory of “cre­ation science”); Board of Education v. Pico, supra (school board may not remove books from library shelves merely be­cause it disapproves of ideas they express); Epperson v. Ar­kansas, supra (striking state-law prohibition against teach­ing Darwinian theory of evolution in public school); West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943) (public school may not compel student to salute flag); Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390 (1923) (state law prohibit­ing the teaching of foreign languages in public or private schools is unconstitutional).

Free student expression undoubtedly sometimes interferes with the effectiveness of the school’s pedagogical functions. Some brands of student expression do so by directly prevent­ing the school from pursuing its pedagogical mission: The young polemic who stands on a soapbox during calculus class to deliver an eloquent political diatribe interferes with the legitimate teaching of calculus. And the student who deliv­ers a lewd endorsement of a student-government candidate might so extremely distract an impressionable high school audience as to interfere with the orderly operation of the school. See Bethel School Dist. No. 403 v. Fraser, 478 U. S. 675 (1986). Other student speech, however, frustrates the school’s legitimate pedagogical purposes merely by express­ing a message that conflicts with the school’s, without directly interfering with the school’s expression of its mes­sage: A student who responds to a political science teacher’s question with the retort, “socialism is good,” subverts the school’s inculcation of the message that capitalism is better. Even the maverick who sits in class passively sporting a sym­bol of protest against a government policy, cf. Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503 (1969), or the gossip who sits in the student commons swap­ping stories of sexual escapade could readily muddle a clear official message condoning the government policy or con­demning teenage sex. Likewise, the student newspaper that, like Spectrum, conveys a moral position at odds with the school’s official stance might subvert the administration’s legitimate inculcation of its own perception of community values.

If mere incompatibility with the school’s pedagogical mes­sage were a constitutionally sufficient justification for the suppression of student speech, school officials could censor each of the students or student organizations in the foregoing hypotheticals, converting our public schools into “enclaves of totalitarianism,” id., at 511, that “strangle the free mind at its source,” West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, supra, at 637. The First Amendment permits no such blan­ket censorship authority. While the “constitutional rights of students in public school are not automatically coextensive with the rights of adults in other settings,” Fraser, supra, at 682, students in the public schools do not “shed their con­stitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate,” Tinker, supra, at 506. Just as the public on the street corner must, in the interest of fostering “en­lightened opinion,” Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 310 (1940), tolerate speech that “tempt[s] [the listener] to throw [the speaker] off the street,” id., at 309, public edu­cators must accommodate some student expression even if it offends them or offers views or values that contradict those the school wishes to inculcate.

In Tinker, this Court struck the balance. We held that official censorship of student expression — there the suspen­sion of several students until they removed their armbands protesting the Vietnam war — is unconstitutional unless the speech “materially disrupts classwork or involves substantial disorder or invasion of the rights of others . . . 393 U. S., at 513. School officials may not suppress “silent, passive ex­pression of opinion, unaccompanied by any disorder or dis­turbance on the part of” the speaker. Id., at 508. The “mere desire to avoid the discomfort and unpleasantness that always accompany an unpopular viewpoint,” id., at 509, or an unsavory subject, Fraser, supra, at 688-689 (Brennan, J., concurring in judgment), does not justify official suppression of student speech in the high school.

This Court applied the Tinker test just a Term ago in Fra­ser, supra, upholding an official decision to discipline a stu­dent for delivering a lewd speech in support of a student-­government candidate. The Court today casts no doubt on Tinker’s vitality. Instead it erects a taxonomy of school censorship, concluding that Tinker applies to one category and not another. On the one hand is censorship “to silence a student’s personal expression that happens to occur on the school premises.” Ante, at 271. On the other hand is cen­sorship of expression that arises in the context of “school-­sponsored . . . expressive activities that students, parents, and members of the public might reasonably perceive to bear the imprimatur of the school.” Ibid.

The Court does not, for it cannot, purport to discern from our precedents the distinction it creates. One could, I sup­pose, readily characterize the students’ symbolic speech in Tinker as “personal expression that happens to [have] oc­cur [red] on school premises,” although Tinker did not even hint that the personal nature of the speech was of any (much less dispositive) relevance. But that same description could not by any stretch of the imagination fit Fraser’s speech. He did not just “happen” to deliver his lewd speech to an ad hoc gathering on the playground. As the second paragraph of Fraser evinces, if ever a forum for student expression was “school-sponsored,” Fraser’s was:

“Fraser . . . delivered a speech nominating a fellow student for student elective office. Approximately 600 high school students . . . attended the assembly. Stu­dents were required to attend the assembly or to report to the study hall. The assembly was part of a school-­sponsored, educational program in self-government.” Fraser, 478 U. S., at 677 (emphasis added).

Yet, from the first sentence of its analysis, see id., at 680, Fraser faithfully applied Tinker.

Nor has this Court ever intimated a distinction between personal and school-sponsored speech in any other context. Particularly telling is this Court’s heavy reliance on Tinker in two cases of First Amendment infringement on state college campuses. See Papish v. University of Missouri Board of Curators, 410 U. S. 667, 671, n. 6 (1973) (per curiam); Healy v. James, 408 U. S. 169, 180, 189, and n. 18, 191 (1972). One involved the expulsion of a student for lewd expression in a newspaper that she sold on campus pursuant to univer­sity authorization, see Papish, supra, at 667-668, and the other involved the denial of university recognition and con­comitant benefits to a political student organization, see Healy, supra, at 174, 176, 181-182. Tracking Tinkers analy­sis, the Court found each act of suppression unconstitutional. In neither case did this Court suggest the distinction, which the Court today finds dispositive, between school-sponsored and incidental student expression.

II

Even if we were writing on a clean slate, I would reject the Court’s rationale for abandoning Tinker in this case. The Court offers no more than an obscure tangle of three excuses to afford educators “greater control” over school-sponsored speech than the Tinker test would permit: the public edu­cator’s prerogative to control curriculum; the pedagogical interest in shielding the high school audience from objection­able viewpoints and sensitive topics; and the school’s need to dissociate itself from student expression. Ante, at 271. None of the excuses, once disentangled, supports the distinc­tion that the Court draws. Tinker fully addresses the first concern; the second is illegitimate; and the third is readily achievable through less oppressive means.

A

The Court is certainly correct that the First Amendment permits educators “to assure that participants learn what­ever lessons the activity is designed to teach . . . .” Ante, at 271. That is, however, the essence of the Tinker test, not an excuse to abandon it. Under Tinker, school officials may censor only such student speech as would “materially dis­rupt” a legitimate curricular function. Manifestly, student speech is more likely to disrupt a curricular function when it arises in the context of a curricular activity — one that “is de­signed to teach” something — than when it arises in the con­text of a noncurricular activity. Thus, under Tinker, the school may constitutionally punish the budding political ora­tor if he disrupts calculus class but not if he holds his tongue for the cafeteria. See Consolidated Edison Co. v. Public Service Comm’n of New York, 447 U. S. 530, 544-545 (1980) (Stevens, J., concurring in judgment). That is not because some more stringent standard applies in the curricular context. (After all, this Court applied the same standard whether the students in Tinker wore their armbands to the “classroom” or the “cafeteria.” 393 U. S., at 512.) It is be­cause student speech in the noncurricular context is less likely to disrupt materially any legitimate pedagogical purpose.

I fully agree with the Court that the First Amendment should afford an educator the prerogative not to sponsor the publication of a newspaper article that is “ungrammatical, poorly written, inadequately researched, biased or preju­diced,” or that falls short of the “high standards for . . . stu­dent speech that is disseminated under [the school’s] auspices . . . .” Ante, at 271-272. But we need not abandon Tinker to reach that conclusion; we need only apply it. The enumer­ated criteria reflect the skills that the curricular newspaper “is designed to teach.” The educator may, under Tinker, constitutionally “censor” poor grammar, writing, or research because to reward such expression would “materially dis­rupt]” the newspaper’s curricular purpose.

The same cannot be said of official censorship designed to shield the audience or dissociate the sponsor from the expression. Censorship so motivated might well serve (al­though, as I demonstrate infra, at 285-289, cannot legiti­mately serve) some other school purpose. . But it in no way furthers the curricular purposes of a student newspaper, un­less one believes that the purpose of the school newspaper is to teach students that the press ought never report bad news, express unpopular views, or print a thought that might upset its sponsors. Unsurprisingly, Hazelwood East claims no such pedagogical purpose.

The Court relies on bits of testimony to portray the princi­pal’s conduct as a pedagogical lesson to Journalism II stu­dents who “had not sufficiently mastered those portions of the . . . curriculum that pertained to the treatment of contro­versial issues and personal attacks, the need to protect the privacy of individuals . . . , and ‘the legal, moral, and ethical restrictions imposed upon journalists ....’” Ante, at 276. In that regard, the Court attempts to justify censorship of the article on teenage pregnancy on the basis of the princi­pal’s judgment that (1) “the [pregnant] students’ anonymity was not adequately protected,” despite the article’s use of aliases; and (2) the judgment that “the article was not suffi­ciently sensitive to the privacy interests of the students’ boy­friends and parents . . . .” Ante, at 274. Similarly, the Court finds in the principal’s decision to censor the divorce article a journalistic lesson that the author should have given the father of one student an “opportunity to defend himself” against her charge that (in the Court’s words) he ^‘chose ‘playing cards with the guys’ over home and family . . . Ante, at 275.

But the principal never consulted the students before cen­soring their work. “[T]hey learned of the deletions when the paper was released . . . .” 795 F. 2d, at 1371. Further, he explained the deletions only in the broadest of generalities. In one meeting called at the behest of seven protesting Spec­trum staff members (presumably a fraction of the full class), he characterized the articles as “ ‘too sensitive’ for ‘our imma­ture audience of readers,”’ 607 F. Supp. 1450, 1459 (ED Mo. 1985), and in a later meeting he deemed them simply “inap­propriate, personal, sensitive and unsuitable for the newspa­per,” ibid. The Court’s supposition that the principal in­tended (or the protesters understood) those generalities as a lesson on the nuances of journalistic responsibility is utterly incredible. If he did, a fact that neither the District Court nor the Court of Appeals found, the lesson was lost on all but the psychic Spectrum staffer.

B

The Court’s second excuse for deviating from precedent is the school’s interest in shielding an impressionable high school audience from material whose substance is “unsuitable for immature audiences.” Ante, at 271 (footnote omitted). Specifically, the majority decrees that we must afford edu­cators authority to shield high school students from exposure to “potentially sensitive topics” (like “the particulars of teen­age sexual activity”) or unacceptable social viewpoints (like the advocacy of “irresponsible se[x] or conduct otherwise in­consistent with ‘the shared values of a civilized social order’ ”) through school-sponsored student activities. Ante, at 272 (citation omitted).

Tinker teaches us that the state educator’s undeniable, and undeniably vital, mandate to inculcate moral and political val­ues is not a general warrant to act as “thought police” stifling discussion of all but state-approved topics and advocacy of all but the official position. See also Epperson v. Arkansas, 393 U. S. 97 (1968); Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390 (1923). Otherwise educators could transform students into “closed-­circuit recipients of only that which the State chooses to com­municate,” Tinker, 393 U. S., at 511, and cast a perverse and impermissible “pall of orthodoxy over the classroom,” Keyi­shian v. Board of Regents, 385 U. S. 589, 603 (1967). Thus, the State cannot constitutionally prohibit its high school stu­dents from recounting in the locker room “the particulars of [their] teen-age sexual activity,” nor even from advocating “irresponsible se[x]” or other presumed abominations of “the shared values of a civilized social order.” Even in its ca­pacity as educator the State may not assume an Orwellian “guardianship of the public mind,” Thomas v. Collins, 323 U. S. 516, 545 (1945) (Jackson, J., concurring).

The mere fact of school sponsorship does not, as the Court suggests, license such thought control in the high school, whether through school suppression of disfavored viewpoints or through official assessment of topic sensitivity.2 The for­mer would constitute unabashed and unconstitutional view­point discrimination, see Board of Education v. Pico, 457 U. S., at 878-879 (Blackmun, J., concurring in part and con­curring in judgment), as well as an impermissible infringe­ment of the students’ “‘right to receive information and ideas,”’ id., at 867 (plurality opinion) (citations omitted); see First National Bank v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, 783 (1978).3 Just as a school board may not purge its state-funded library of all books that “‘offen[d] [its] social, political and moral tastes,’” 457 U. S., at 858-859 (plurality opinion) (citation omitted), school officials may not, out of like motivation, dis­criminatorily excise objectionable ideas from a student pub­lication. The State’s prerogative to dissolve the student newspaper entirely (or to limit its subject matter) no more entitles it to dictate which viewpoints students may express on its pages, than the State’s prerogative to close down the schoolhouse entitles it to prohibit the nondisruptive expres­sion of antiwar sentiment within its gates.

Official censorship of student speech on the ground that it addresses “potentially sensitive topics” is, for related reasons, equally impermissible. I would not begrudge an educator the authority to limit the substantive scope of a school-sponsored publication to a certain, objectively defin­able topic, such as literary criticism, school sports, or an overview of the school year. Unlike those determinate limi­tations, “potential topic sensitivity” is a vaporous nonstan­dard — like “‘public welfare, peace, safety, health, decency, good order, morals or convenience,”’ Shuttlesworth v. Bir­mingham, 394 U. S. 147, 150 (1969), or “‘general welfare of citizens,’” Staub v. Baxley, 355 U. S. 313, 322 (1958)— that invites manipulation to achieve ends that cannot permis­sibly be achieved through blatant viewpoint discrimination and chills student speech to which school officials might not object. In part because of those dangers, this Court has consistently condemned any scheme allowing a state official boundless discretion in licensing speech from a particular forum. See, e. g., Shuttlesworth v. Birmingham, supra, at 150-151, and n. 2; Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 557-558 (1965); Staub v. Baxley, supra, at 322-324.

The case before us aptly illustrates how readily school of­ficials (and courts) can camouflage viewpoint discrimination as the “mere” protection of students from sensitive topics. Among the grounds that the Court advances to uphold the principal’s censorship of one of the articles was the potential sensitivity of “teenage sexual activity.” Ante, at 272. Yet the District Court specifically found that the principal “did not, as a matter of principle, oppose discussion of said topi[c] in Spectrum” 607 F. Supp., at 1467. That much is also clear from the same principal’s approval of the “squeal law” article on the same page, dealing forthrightly with “teenage sexuality,” “the use of contraceptives by teenagers,” and “teenage pregnancy,” App. 4-5. If topic sensitivity were the true basis of the principal’s decision, the two articles should have been equally objectionable. It is much more likely that the objectionable article was objectionable because of the viewpoint it expressed: It might have been read (as the majority apparently does) to advocate “irresponsible sex.” See ante, at 272.

C

The sole concomitant of school sponsorship that might con­ceivably justify the distinction that the Court draws between sponsored and nonsponsored student expression is the risk “that the views of the individual speaker [might be] errone­ously attributed to the school.” Ante, at 271. Of course, the risk of erroneous attribution inheres in any student ex­pression, including “personal expression” that, like the arm­bands in Tinker, “happens to occur on the school premises,” ante, at 271. Nevertheless, the majority is certainly cor­rect that indicia of school sponsorship increase the likelihood of such attribution, and that state educators may therefore have a legitimate interest in dissociating themselves from student speech.

But “ ‘[e]ven though the governmental purpose be legiti­mate and substantial, that purpose cannot be pursued by means that broadly stifle fundamental personal liberties when the end can be more narrowly achieved.’” Keyishian v. Board of Regents, 385 U. S., at 602 (quoting Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479, 488 (1960)). Dissociative means short of censorship are available to the school. It could, for exam­ple, require the student activity to publish a disclaimer, such as the “Statement of Policy” that Spectrum published each school year announcing that “[a]ll . . . editorials appearing in this newspaper reflect the opinions of the Spectrum staff, which are not necessarily shared by the administrators or faculty of Hazelwood East,” App. 26; or it could simply issue its own response clarifying the official position on the mat­ter and explaining why the student position is wrong. Yet, without so much as acknowledging the less oppressive alter­natives, the Court approves of brutal censorship.

Ill

Since the censorship served no legitimate pedagogical pur­pose, it cannot by any stretch of the imagination have been designed to prevent “materia[l] disruption of] classwork,” Tinker, 393 U. S., at 513. Nor did the censorship fall within the category that Tinker described as necessary to prevent student expression from “inva[ding] the rights of others,” ibid. If that term is to have any content, it must be limited to rights that are protected by law. “Any yardstick less ex­acting than [that] could result in school officials curtailing speech at the slightest fear of disturbance,” 795 F. 2d, at 1376, a prospect that would be completely at odds with this Court’s pronouncement that the “undifferentiated fear or apprehension of disturbance is not enough [even in the public school context] to overcome the right to freedom of expres­sion.” Tinker, supra, at 508. And, as the Court of Appeals correctly reasoned, whatever journalistic impropriety these articles may have contained, they could not conceivably be tortious, much less criminal. See 795 F. 2d, at 1375-1376.

Finally, even if the majority were correct that the principal could constitutionally have censored the objectionable mate­rial, I would emphatically object to the brutal manner in which he did so. Where “[t]he separation of legitimate from illegitimate speech calls for more sensitive tools” Speiser v. Randall, 357 U. S. 513, 525 (1958); see Keyishian v. Board of Regents, supra, at 602, the principal used a paper shredder. He objected to some material in two articles, but excised six entire articles. He did not so much as inquire into obvious alternatives, such as precise deletions or additions (one of which had already been made), rearranging the layout, or de­laying publication. Such unthinking contempt for individual rights is intolerable from any state official. It is particularly insidious from one to whom the public entrusts the task of in­culcating in its youth an appreciation for the cherished demo­cratic liberties that our Constitution guarantees.

IV

The Court opens its analysis in this case by purporting to reaffirm Tinker’s time-tested proposition that public school students “do not ‘shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate.’” Ante, at 266 (quoting Tinker, supra, at 506). That is an ironic intro­duction to an opinion that denudes high school students of much of the First Amendment protection that Tinker itself prescribed. Instead of “teaching] children to respect the diversity of ideas that is fundamental to the American sys­tem,” Board of Education v. Pico, 457 U. S., at 880 (Black-­MUN, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment), and “that our Constitution is a living reality, not parchment preserved under glass,” Shanley v. Northeast Independent School Dist., Bexar Cty., Tex., 462 F. 2d 960, 972 (CA5 1972), the Court today “teach[es] youth to discount important principles of our government as mere platitudes.” West Vir­ginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S., at 637. The young men and women of Hazelwood East expected a civics lesson, but not the one the Court teaches them today.

I dissent.

1 The Court suggests that the passage quoted in the text did not “ex-­ten[d] the Tinker standard to the news and feature articles contained in a school-sponsored newspaper” because the passage did not expressly mention them. Ante, at 269, n. 2. It is hard to imagine why the Court (or anyone else) might expect a passage that applies categorically to “a student-press publication,” composed almost exclusively of “news and fea­ture articles,” to mention those categories expressly. Understandably, neither court below so limited the passage.

2 The Court quotes language in Bethel School Dist. No. 403 v. Fraser, 478 U. S. 675 (1986), for the proposition that “ ‘[t]he determination of what manner of speech in the classroom or in school assembly is inappropriate properly rests with the school board. ’ ” Ante, at 267 (quoting 478 U. S., at 683). As the discussion immediately preceding that quotation makes clear, however, the Court was referring only to the appropriateness of the manner in which the message is conveyed, not of the message’s content. See, e. g., Fraser, 478 U. S., at 683 (“[T]he ‘fundamental values necessary to the maintenance of a democratic political system’ disfavor the use of terms of debate highly offensive or highly threatening to others”). In fact, the Fraser Court coupled its first mention of “society’s . . . interest in teaching students the boundaries of socially appropriate behavior,” with an acknowledgment of “[t]he undoubted freedom to advocate unpopular and controversial views in schools and classrooms,” id., at 681 (emphasis added). See also id., at 689 (Brennan, J., concurring in judgment) (“Nor does this case involve an attempt by school officials to ban written ma­terials they consider ‘inappropriate’ for high school students” (citation omitted)).

3

15.28 Hustler Magazine v. Falwell 15.28 Hustler Magazine v. Falwell

485 U.S. 46
108 S.Ct. 876
99 L.Ed.2d 41
HUSTLER MAGAZINE and Larry C. Flynt, Petitioners

v.

Jerry FALWELL.

No. 86-1278.
Argued Dec. 2, 1987.
Decided Feb. 24, 1988.
Syllabus

          Respondent, a nationally known minister and commentator on politics and public affairs, filed a diversity action in Federal District Court against petitioners, a nationally circulated magazine and its publisher, to recover damages for, inter alia, libel and intentional infliction of emotional distress arising from the publication of an advertisement "parody" which, among other things, portrayed respondent as having engaged in a drunken incestuous rendezvous with his mother in an outhouse. The jury found against respondent on the libel claim, specifically finding that the parody could not "reasonably be understood as describing actual facts . . . or events," but ruled in his favor on the emotional distress claim, stating that he should be awarded compensatory and punitive damages. The Court of Appeals affirmed, rejecting petitioners' contention that the "actual malice" standard of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 must be met before respondent can recover for emotional distress. Rejecting as irrelevant the contention that, because the jury found that the parody did not describe actual facts, the ad was an opinion protected by the First Amendment to the Federal Constitution, the court ruled that the issue was whether the ad's publication was sufficiently outrageous to constitute intentional infliction of emotional distress.

          Held: In order to protect the free flow of ideas and opinions on matters of public interest and concern, the First and Fourteenth Amendments prohibit public figures and public officials from recovering damages for the tort of intentional infliction of emotional distress by reason of the publication of a caricature such as the ad parody at issue without showing in addition that the publication contains a false statement of fact which was made with "actual malice," i.e., with knowledge that the statement was false or with reckless disregard as to whether or not it was true. The State's interest in protecting public figures from emotional distress is not sufficient to deny First Amendment protection to speech that is patently offensive and is intended to inflict emotional injury when that speech could not reasonably have been interpreted as stating actual facts about the public figure involved. Here, respondent is clearly a "public figure" for First Amendment purposes, and the lower courts' finding that the ad parody was not reasonably believable must be accepted. "Outrageous-

Page 47

ness" in the area of political and social discourse has an inherent subjectiveness about it which would allow a jury to impose liability on the basis of the jurors' tastes or views, or perhaps on the basis of their dislike of a particular expression, and cannot, consistently with the First Amendment, form a basis for the award of damages for conduct such as that involved here. Pp. 50-57.

          797 F.2d 1270 (CA4 1986), reversed.

          REHNQUIST, C.J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which BRENNAN, MARSHALL, BLACKMUN, STEVENS, O'CONNOR, and SCALIA, JJ., joined. WHITE, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment, post, p. 57. KENNEDY, J., took no part in the consideration or decision of the case.

          Alan L. Isaacman, Beverly Hills, Cal., for petitioners.

          Norman Roy Grutman, New York City, for respondent.

           Chief Justice REHNQUIST delivered the opinion of the Court.

          Petitioner Hustler Magazine, Inc., is a magazine of nationwide circulation. Respondent Jerry Falwell, a nationally known minister who has been active as a commentator on politics and public affairs, sued petitioner and its publisher, petitioner Larry Flynt, to recover damages for invasion of

Page 48

privacy, libel, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. The District Court directed a verdict against respondent on the privacy claim, and submitted the other two claims to a jury. The jury found for petitioners on the defamation claim, but found for respondent on the claim for intentional infliction of emotional distress and awarded damages. We now consider whether this award is consistent with the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the United States Constitution.

          The inside front cover of the November 1983 issue of Hustler Magazine featured a "parody" of an advertisement for Campari Liqueur that contained the name and picture of respondent and was entitled "Jerry Falwell talks about his first time." This parody was modeled after actual Campari ads that included interviews with various celebrities about their "first times." Although it was apparent by the end of each interview that this meant the first time they sampled Campari, the ads clearly played on the sexual double entendre of the general subject of "first times." Copying the form and layout of these Campari ads, Hustler's editors chose respondent as the featured celebrity and drafted an alleged "interview" with him in which he states that his "first time" was during a drunken incestuous rendezvous with his mother in an outhouse. The Hustler parody portrays respondent and his mother as drunk and immoral, and suggests that respondent is a hypocrite who preaches only when he is drunk. In small print at the bottom of the page, the ad contains the disclaimer, "ad parody—not to be taken seriously." The magazine's table of contents also lists the ad as "Fiction; Ad and Personality Parody."

          Soon after the November issue of Hustler became available to the public, respondent brought this diversity action in the United States District Court for the Western District of Virginia against Hustler Magazine, Inc., Larry C. Flynt, and Flynt Distributing Co., Inc. Respondent stated in his complaint that publication of the ad parody in Hustler entitled

Page 49

him to recover damages for libel, invasion of privacy, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. The case proceeded to trial.1 At the close of the evidence, the District Court granted a directed verdict for petitioners on the invasion of privacy claim. The jury then found against respondent on the libel claim, specifically finding that the ad parody could not "reasonably be understood as describing actual facts about [respondent] or actual events in which [he] participated." App. to Pet. for Cert. C1. The jury ruled for respondent on the intentional infliction of emotional distress claim, however, and stated that he should be awarded $100,000 in compensatory damages, as well as $50,000 each in punitive damages from petitioners.2 Petitioners' motion for judgment notwithstanding the verdict was denied.

          On appeal, the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit affirmed the judgment against petitioners. Falwell v. Flynt, 797 F.2d 1270 (1986). The court rejected petitioners' argument that the "actual malice" standard of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964), must be met before respondent can recover for emotional distress. The court agreed that because respondent is concededly a public figure, petitioners are "entitled to the same level of first amendment protection in the claim for intentional infliction of emotional distress that they received in [respondent's] claim for libel." 797 F.2d, at 1274. But this does not mean that a literal application of the actual malice rule is appropriate in the context of an emotional distress claim. In the court's view, the New York Times decision emphasized the constitutional importance not of the falsity of the statement or the defendant's disregard for the truth, but of the heightened level of culpability embodied in the requirement of "knowing . . . or reckless" conduct. Here, the New York

Page 50

Times standard is satisfied by the state-law requirement, and the jury's finding, that the defendants have acted intentionally or recklessly.3 The Court of Appeals then went on to reject the contention that because the jury found that the ad parody did not describe actual facts about respondent, the ad was an opinion that is protected by the First Amendment. As the court put it, this was "irrelevant," as the issue is "whether [the ad's] publication was sufficiently outrageous to constitute intentional infliction of emotional distress." Id., at 1276.4 Petitioners then filed a petition for rehearing en banc, but this was denied by a divided court. Given the importance of the constitutional issues involved, we granted certiorari. 480 U.S. 945, 107 S.Ct. 1601, 94 L.Ed.2d 788 (1987).

          This case presents us with a novel question involving First Amendment limitations upon a State's authority to protect its citizens from the intentional infliction of emotional distress. We must decide whether a public figure may recover damages for emotional harm caused by the publication of an ad parody offensive to him, and doubtless gross and repugnant in the eyes of most. Respondent would have us find that a State's interest in protecting public figures from emotional distress is sufficient to deny First Amendment protection to speech that is patently offensive and is intended to inflict emotional injury, even when that speech could not reasonably have been interpreted as stating actual facts about the public figure involved. This we decline to do.

          At the heart of the First Amendment is the recognition of the fundamental importance of the free flow of ideas and opinions on matters of public interest and concern. "[T]he

Page 51

freedom to speak one's mind is not only an aspect of individual liberty—and thus a good unto itself—but also is essential to the common quest for truth and the vitality of society as a whole." Bose Corp. v. Consumers Union of United States, Inc., 466 U.S. 485, 503-504, 104 S.Ct. 1949, 1961, 80 L.Ed.2d 502 (1984). We have therefore been particularly vigilant to ensure that individual expressions of ideas remain free from governmentally imposed sanctions. The First Amendment recognizes no such thing as a "false" idea. Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., 418 U.S. 323, 339, 94 S.Ct. 2997, 3007, 41 L.Ed.2d 789 (1974). As Justice Holmes wrote, "when men have realized that time has upset many fighting faiths, they may come to believe even more than they believe the very foundations of their own conduct that the ultimate good desired is better reached by free trade in ideas that the best test of truth is the power of the thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market. . . ." Abrams v. United States, 250 U.S. 616, 630, 40 S.Ct. 17, 22, 63 L.Ed. 1173 (1919) (dissenting opinion).

          The sort of robust political debate encouraged by the First Amendment is bound to produce speech that is critical of those who hold public office or those public figures who are "intimately involved in the resolution of important public questions or, by reason of their fame, shape events in areas of concern to society at large." Associated Press v. Walker, decided with Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U.S. 130, 164, 87 S.Ct. 1975, 1996, 18 L.Ed.2d 1094 (1967) (Warren, C.J., concurring in result). Justice Frankfurter put it succinctly in Baumgartner v. United States, 322 U.S. 665, 673-674, 64 S.Ct. 1240, 1245, 88 L.Ed. 1525 (1944), when he said that "[o]ne of the prerogatives of American citizenship is the right to criticize public men and measures." Such criticism, inevitably, will not always be reasoned or moderate; public figures as well as public officials will be subject to "vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleasantly sharp attacks," New York Times, supra, 376 U.S., at 270, 84 S.Ct., at 721. "[T]he candidate who vaunts his spotless record and sterling integrity cannot convincingly cry 'Foul!' when an opponent or an industrious reporter attempts

Page 52

to demonstrate the contrary." Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U.S. 265, 274, 91 S.Ct. 621, 626, 28 L.Ed.2d 35 (1971).

          Of course, this does not mean that any speech about a public figure is immune from sanction in the form of damages. Since New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964), we have consistently ruled that a public figure may hold a speaker liable for the damage to reputation caused by publication of a defamatory falsehood, but only if the statement was made "with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not." Id., 376 U.S., at 279-280, 84 S.Ct., at 726. False statements of fact are particularly valueless; they interfere with the truth-seeking function of the marketplace of ideas, and they cause damage to an individual's reputation that cannot easily be repaired by counterspeech, however persuasive or effective. See Gertz, 418 U.S., at 340, 344, n. 9, 94 S.Ct., at 3007, 3009, n. 9. But even though falsehoods have little value in and of themselves, they are "nevertheless inevitable in free debate," id., at 340, 94 S.Ct., at 3007, and a rule that would impose strict liability on a publisher for false factual assertions would have an undoubted "chilling" effect on speech relating to public figures that does have constitutional value. "Freedoms of expression require 'breathing space.' " Philadelphia Newspapers, Inc. v. Hepps, 475 U.S. 767, 772, 106 S.Ct. 1558, 1561, 89 L.Ed.2d 783 (1986) (quoting New York Times, supra, 376 U.S., at 272, 84 S.Ct., at 721). This breathing space is provided by a constitutional rule that allows public figures to recover for libel or defamation only when they can prove both that the statement was false and that the statement was made with the requisite level of culpability.

          Respondent argues, however, that a different standard should apply in this case because here the State seeks to prevent not reputational damage, but the severe emotional distress suffered by the person who is the subject of an offensive publication. Cf. Zacchini v. Scripps-Howard Broadcasting Co., 433 U.S. 562, 97 S.Ct. 2849, 53 L.Ed.2d 965 (1977) (ruling that the "actual malice" standard does not apply to the tort of appropriation of a right of publicity). In respondent's view, and in the view of the

Page 53

Court of Appeals, so long as the utterance was intended to inflict emotional distress, was outrageous, and did in fact inflict serious emotional distress, it is of no constitutional import whether the statement was a fact or an opinion, or whether it was true or false. It is the intent to cause injury that is the gravamen of the tort, and the State's interest in preventing emotional harm simply outweighs whatever interest a speaker may have in speech of this type.

          Generally speaking the law does not regard the intent to inflict emotional distress as one which should receive much solicitude, and it is quite understandable that most if not all jurisdictions have chosen to make it civilly culpable where the conduct in question is sufficiently "outrageous." But in the world of debate about public affairs, many things done with motives that are less than admirable are protected by the First Amendment. In Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 64, 85 S.Ct. 209, 13 L.Ed.2d 125 (1964), we held that even when a speaker or writer is motivated by hatred or illwill his expression was protected by the First Amendment:

          "Debate on public issues will not be uninhibited if the speaker must run the risk that it will be proved in court that he spoke out of hatred; even if he did speak out of hatred, utterances honestly believed contribute to the free interchange of ideas and the ascertainment of truth." Id., at 73, 85 S.Ct., at 215.

          Thus while such a bad motive may be deemed controlling for purposes of tort liability in other areas of the law, we think the First Amendment prohibits such a result in the area of public debate about public figures.

          Were we to hold otherwise, there can be little doubt that political cartoonists and satirists would be subjected to damages awards without any showing that their work falsely defamed its subject. Webster's defines a caricature as "the deliberately distorted picturing or imitating of a person, literary style, etc. by exaggerating features or mannerisms for satirical effect." Webster's New Unabridged Twentieth

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Century Dictionary of the English Language 275 (2d ed. 1979). The appeal of the political cartoon or caricature is often based on exploitation of unfortunate physical traits or politically embarrassing events—an exploitation often calculated to injure the feelings of the subject of the portrayal. The art of the cartoonist is often not reasoned or evenhanded, but slashing and one-sided. One cartoonist expressed the nature of the art in these words:

                    "The political cartoon is a weapon of attack, of scorn and ridicule and satire; it is least effective when it tries to pat some politician on the back. It is usually as welcome as a bee sting and is always controversial in some quarters." Long, The Political Cartoon: Journalism's Strongest Weapon, The Quill 56, 57 (Nov. 1962).

          Several famous examples of this type of intentionally injurious speech were drawn by Thomas Nast, probably the greatest American cartoonist to date, who was associated for many years during the post-Civil War era with Harper's Weekly. In the pages of that publication Nast conducted a graphic vendetta against William M. "Boss" Tweed and his corrupt associates in New York City's "Tweed Ring." It has been described by one historian of the subject as "a sustained attack which in its passion and effectiveness stands alone in the history of American graphic art." M. Keller, The Art and Politics of Thomas Nast 177 (1968). Another writer explains that the success of the Nast cartoon was achieved "because of the emotional impact of its presentation. It continuously goes beyond the bounds of good taste and conventional manners." C. Press, The Political Cartoon 251 (1981).

          Despite their sometimes caustic nature, from the early cartoon portraying George Washington as an ass down to the present day, graphic depictions and satirical cartoons have played a prominent role in public and political debate. Nast's castigation of the Tweed Ring, Walt McDougall's characterization of Presidential candidate James G. Blaine's banquet with the millionaires at Delmonico's as "The Royal

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Feast of Belshazzar," and numerous other efforts have undoubtedly had an effect on the course and outcome of contemporaneous debate. Lincoln's tall, gangling posture, Teddy Roosevelt's glasses and teeth, and Franklin D. Roosevelt's jutting jaw and cigarette holder have been memorialized by political cartoons with an effect that could not have been obtained by the photographer or the portrait artist. From the viewpoint of history it is clear that our political discourse would have been considerably poorer without them.

          Respondent contends, however, that the caricature in question here was so "outrageous" as to distinguish it from more traditional political cartoons. There is no doubt that the caricature of respondent and his mother published in Hustler is at best a distant cousin of the political cartoons described above, and a rather poor relation at that. If it were possible by laying down a principled standard to separate the one from the other, public discourse would probably suffer little or no harm. But we doubt that there is any such standard, and we are quite sure that the pejorative description "outrageous" does not supply one. "Outrageousness" in the area of political and social discourse has an inherent subjectiveness about it which would allow a jury to impose liability on the basis of the jurors' tastes or views, or perhaps on the basis of their dislike of a particular expression. An "outrageousness" standard thus runs afoul of our longstanding refusal to allow damages to be awarded because the speech in question may have an adverse emotional impact on the audience. See NAACP v. Claiborne Hardware Co., 458 U.S. 886, 910, 102 S.Ct. 3409, 3424, 73 L.Ed.2d 1215 (1982) ("Speech does not lose its protected character . . . simply because it may embarrass others or coerce them into action"). And, as we stated in FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U.S. 726, 98 S.Ct. 3026, 57 L.Ed.2d 1073 (1978):

          "[T]he fact that society may find speech offensive is not a sufficient reason for suppressing it. Indeed, if it is the speaker's opinion that gives offense, that consequence is a reason for according it constitutional protection.

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          For it is a central tenet of the First Amendment that the government must remain neutral in the marketplace of ideas." Id., at 745-746, 98 S.Ct., at 3038.

          See also Street v. New York, 394 U.S. 576, 592, 89 S.Ct. 1354, 1366, 22 L.Ed.2d 572 (1969) ("It is firmly settled that . . . the public expression of ideas may not be prohibited merely because the ideas are themselves offensive to some of their hearers").

          Admittedly, these oft-repeated First Amendment principles, like other principles, are subject to limitations. We recognized in Pacifica Foundation, that speech that is " 'vulgar,' 'offensive,' and 'shocking' " is "not entitled to absolute constitutional protection under all circumstances." 438 U.S., at 747, 98 S.Ct., at 3039. In Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568, 62 S.Ct. 766, 86 L.Ed. 1031 (1942), we held that a State could lawfully punish an individual for the use of insulting " 'fighting' words—those which by their very utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace." Id., at 571-572, 62 S.Ct., at 769. These limitations are but recognition of the observation in Dun & Bradstreet, Inc. v. Greenmoss Builders, Inc., 472 U.S. 749, 758, 105 S.Ct. 2939, 2945, 86 L.Ed.2d 593 (1985), that this Court has "long recognized that not all speech is of equal First Amendment importance." But the sort of expression involved in this case does not seem to us to be governed by any exception to the general First Amendment principles stated above.

          We conclude that public figures and public officials may not recover for the tort of intentional infliction of emotional distress by reason of publications such as the one here at issue without showing in addition that the publication contains a false statement of fact which was made with "actual malice," i.e., with knowledge that the statement was false or with reckless disregard as to whether or not it was true. This is not merely a "blind application" of the New York Times standard, see Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U.S. 374, 390, 87 S.Ct. 534, 543, 17 L.Ed.2d 456 (1967), it reflects our considered judgment that such a standard is necessary to give adequate "breathing space" to the freedoms protected by the First Amendment.

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          Here it is clear that respondent Falwell is a "public figure" for purposes of First Amendment law.5 The jury found against respondent on his libel claim when it decided that the Hustler ad parody could not "reasonably be understood as describing actual facts about [respondent] or actual events in which [he] participated." App. to Pet. for Cert. C1. The Court of Appeals interpreted the jury's finding to be that the ad parody "was not reasonably believable," 797 F.2d, at 1278, and in accordance with our custom we accept this finding. Respondent is thus relegated to his claim for damages awarded by the jury for the intentional infliction of emotional distress by "outrageous" conduct. But for reasons heretofore stated this claim cannot, consistently with the First Amendment, form a basis for the award of damages when the conduct in question is the publication of a caricature such as the ad parody involved here. The judgment of the Court of Appeals is accordingly

          Reversed.

          Justice KENNEDY took no part in the consideration or decision of this case.

           Justice WHITE, concurring in the judgment.

          As I see it, the decision in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964), has little to do with this case, for here the jury found that the ad contained no assertion of fact. But I agree with the Court that the judgment below, which penalized the publication of the parody, cannot be squared with the First Amendment.

1. While the case was pending, the ad parody was published in Hustler Magazine a second time.

2. The jury found no liability on the part of Flynt Distributing Co., Inc. It is consequently not a party to this appeal.

3. Under Virginia law, in an action for intentional infliction of emotional distress a plaintiff must show that the defendant's conduct (1) is intentional or reckless; (2) offends generally accepted standards of decency or morality; (3) is causally connected with the plaintiff's emotional distress; and (4) caused emotional distress that was severe. 797 F.2d, at 1275, n. 4 (citing Womack v. Eldridge, 215 Va. 338, 210 S.E.2d 145 (1974)).

4. The court below also rejected several other contentions that petitioners do not raise in this appeal.

5. Neither party disputes this conclusion. Respondent is the host of a nationally syndicated television show and was the founder and president of a political organization formerly known as the Moral Majority. He is also the founder of Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia, and is the author of several books and publications. Who's Who in America 849 (44th ed. 1986-1987).

15.29 Texas v. Johnson 15.29 Texas v. Johnson

TEXAS v. JOHNSON

CERTIORARI TO THE COURT OF CRIMINAL APPEALS OF TEXAS

No. 88-155.

Argued March 21, 1989

Decided June 21, 1989

*398Kathi Alyce Drew argued the cause for petitioner. With her on the briefs were John Vance and Dolena T. Westergard.

William M. Kunstler argued the cause for respondent. With him on the brief was David D. Cole.*

*

Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for the Legal Affairs Council by Wyatt B. Durrette, Jr., and Bradley B. Cavedo; and for the Washington Legal Foundation by Daniel J. Popeo and Paul D. Kamenar.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the American Civil Liberties Union et al. by Peter Linzer, James C. Harrington, and *399Steven R. Shapiro; for the Christie Institute et al. by James C. Goodale; and for Jasper Johns et al. by Robert G. Sugarman and Gloria C. Phares.

*399Justice Brennan

delivered the opinion of the Court.

After publicly burning an American flag as a means of political protest, Gregory Lee Johnson was convicted of desecrating a flag in violation of Texas law. This case presents the question whether his conviction is consistent with the First Amendment. We hold that it is not.

I

While the Republican National Convention was taking place in Dallas in 1984, respondent Johnson participated in a political demonstration dubbed the “Republican War Chest Tour.” As explained in literature distributed by the demonstrators and in speeches made by them, the purpose of this event was to protest the policies of the Reagan administration and of certain Dallas-based corporations. The demonstrators marched through the Dallas streets, chanting political slogans and stopping at several corporate locations to stage “die-ins” intended to dramatize the consequences of nuclear war. On several occasions they spray-painted the walls of buildings and overturned potted plants, but Johnson himself took no part in such activities. He did, however, accept an American flag handed to him by a fellow protestor who had taken it from a flagpole outside one of the targeted buildings.

The demonstration ended in front of Dallas City Hall, where Johnson unfurled the American flag, doused it with kerosene, and set it on fire. While the flag burned, the' protestors chanted: “America, the red, white, and blue, we spit on you.” After the demonstrators dispersed, a witness to the flag burning collected the flag’s remains and buried them in his backyard. No one was physically injured or threatened with injury, though several witnesses testified that they had been seriously offended by the flag burning.

*400Of the approximately 100 demonstrators, Johnson alone was charged with a crime. The only criminal offense with which he was charged was the desecration of a venerated object in violation of Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 42.09(a)(3) (1989).1 After a trial, he was convicted, sentenced to one year in prison, and fined $2,000. The Court of Appeals for the Fifth District of Texas at Dallas affirmed Johnson’s conviction, 706 S. W. 2d 120 (1986), but the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals reversed, 755 S. W. 2d 92 (1988), holding that the State could not, consistent with the First Amendment, punish Johnson for burning the flag in these circumstances.

The Court of Criminal Appeals began by recognizing that Johnson’s conduct was symbolic speech protected by the First Amendment: “Given the context of an organized demonstration, speeches, slogans, and the distribution of literature, anyone who observed appellant’s act would have understood the message that appellant intended to convey. The act for which appellant was convicted was clearly ‘speech’ contemplated by the First Amendment.” Id., at 95. To justify Johnson’s conviction for engaging in symbolic speech, the State asserted two interests: preserving the flag as a symbol of national unity and preventing breaches of the peace. The Court of Criminal Appeals held that neither interest supported his conviction.

*401Acknowledging that this Court had not yet decided whether the Government may criminally sanction flag desecration in order to preserve the flag’s symbolic value, the Texas court nevertheless concluded that our decision in West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943), suggested that furthering this interest by curtailing speech was impermissible. “Recognizing that the right to differ is the centerpiece of our First Amendment freedoms,” the court explained, “a government cannot mandate by fiat a feeling of unity in its citizens. Therefore, that very same government cannot carve out a symbol of unity and prescribe a set of approved messages to be associated with that symbol when it cannot mandate the status or feeling the symbol purports to represent.” 755 S. W. 2d, at 97. Noting that the State had not shown that the flag was in “grave and immediate danger,” Barnette, supra, at 639, of being stripped of its symbolic value, the Texas court also decided that the flag’s special status was not endangered by Johnson’s conduct. 755 S. W. 2d, at 97.

As to the State’s goal of preventing breaches of the peace, the court concluded that the flag-desecration statute was not drawn narrowly enough to encompass only those flag burnings that were likely to result in a serious disturbance of the peace. And in fact, the court emphasized, the flag burning in this particular case did not threaten such a reaction. “‘Serious offense’ occurred,” the court admitted, “but there was no breach of peace nor does the record reflect that the situation was potentially explosive. One cannot equate ‘serious' offense’ with incitement to breach the peace. ” Id., at 96. The court also stressed that another Texas statute, Tex. Penal Code Ann. §42.01 (1989), prohibited breaches of the peace. Citing Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S. 312 (1988), the court decided that §42.01 demonstrated Texas’ ability to prevent disturbances of the peace without punishing this flag desecration. 755 S. W. 2d, at 96.

*402Because it reversed Johnson’s conviction on the ground that §42.09 was unconstitutional as applied to him, the state court did not address Johnson’s argument that the statute was, on its face, unconstitutionally vague and over-broad. We granted certiorari, 488 U. S. 907 (1988), and now affirm.

II

Johnson was convicted of flag desecration for burning the flag rather than for uttering insulting words.2 This fact *403somewhat complicates our consideration of his conviction under the First Amendment. We must first determine whether Johnson’s burning of the flag constituted expressive conduct, permitting him to invoke the First Amendment in challenging his conviction. See, e. g., Spence v. Washington, 418 U. S. 405, 409-411 (1974). If his conduct was expressive, we next decide whether the State’s regulation is related to the suppression of free expression. See, e. g., United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367, 377 (1968); Spence, supra, at 414, n. 8. If the State’s regulation is not related to expression, then the less stringent standard we announced in United States v. O’Brien for regulations of noncommuni-cative conduct controls. See O’Brien, supra, at 377. If it is, then we are outside of O’Brien’s test, and we must ask whether this interest justifies Johnson’s conviction under a more demanding standard.3 See Spence, supra, at 411. A *404third possibility is that the State’s asserted interest is simply not implicated on these facts, and in that event the interest drops out of the picture. See 418 U. S., at 414, n. 8.

The First Amendment literally forbids the abridgment only of “speech,” but we have long recognized that its protection does not end at the spoken or written word. While we have rejected “the view that an apparently limitless variety of conduct can be labeled ‘speech’ whenever the person engaging in the conduct intends thereby to express an idea,” United States v. O’Brien, supra, at 376, we have acknowledged that conduct may be “sufficiently imbued with elements of communication to fall within the scope of the First and Fourteenth Amendments,” Spence, supra, at 409.

In deciding whether particular conduct possesses sufficient communicative elements to bring the First Amendment into play, we have asked whether “[a]n intent to convey a particularized message was present, and [whether] the likelihood was great that the message would be understood by those who viewed it.” 418 U. S., at 410-411. Hence, we have recognized the expressive nature of students’ wearing of black armbands to protest American military involvement in Vietnam, Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503, 505 (1969); of a sit-in by blacks in a “whites only” area to protest segregation, Brown v. Louisiana, 383 U. S. 131, 141-142 (1966); of the wearing of American military uniforms in a dramatic presentation criticizing American involvement in Vietnam, Schacht v. United States, 398 U. S. 58 (1970); and of picketing about a wide variety of causes, see, e. g., Food Employees v. Logan Valley Plaza, Inc., 391 U. S. 308, 313-314 (1968); United States v. Grace, 461 U. S. 171, 176 (1983).

Especially pertinent to this case are our decisions recognizing the communicative nature of conduct relating to flags. Attaching a peace sign to the flag, Spence, supra, at 409-410; refusing to salute the flag, Barnette, 319 U. S., at 632; and displaying a red flag, Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359, *405368-369 (1931), we have held, all may find shelter under the First Amendment. See also Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S. 566, 588 (1974) (White, J., concurring in judgment) (treating flag “contemptuously” by wearing pants with small flag sewn into their seat is expressive conduct). That we have had little difficulty identifying an expressive element in conduct relating to flags should not be surprising. The very purpose of a national flag is to serve as a symbol of our country; it is, one might say, “the one visible manifestation of two hundred years of nationhood.” Id., at 603 (Rehnquist, J., dissenting). Thus, we have observed:

“[T]he flag salute is a form of utterance. Symbolism is a primitive but effective way of communicating ideas. The use of an emblem or flag to symbolize some system, idea, institution, or personality, is a short cut from mind to mind. Causes and nations, political parties, lodges and ecclesiastical groups seek to knit the loyalty of their followings to a flag or banner, a color or design.” Barnette, supra, at 632.

Pregnant with expressive content, the flag as readily signifies this Nation as does the combination of letters found in “America.”

We have not automatically concluded, however, that any action taken with respect to our flag is expressive. Instead, in characterizing such action for First Amendment purposes, we have considered the context in which it occurred. In Spence, for example, we emphasized that Spence’s taping of a peace sign to his flag was “roughly simultaneous with and concededly triggered by the Cambodian incursion and the Kent State tragedy.” 418 U. S., at 410. The State of Washington had conceded, in fact, that Spence’s conduct was a form of communication, and we stated that “the State’s concession is inevitable on this record.” Id., at 409.

The State of Texas conceded for purposes of its oral argument in this case that Johnson’s conduct was expressive conduct, Tr. of Oral Arg. 4, and this concession seems to us as *406prudent as was Washington’s in Spence. Johnson burned an American flag as part — indeed, as the culmination — of a political demonstration that coincided with the convening of the Republican Party and its renomination of Ronald Reagan for President. The expressive, overtly political nature of this conduct was both intentional and overwhelmingly apparent. At his trial, Johnson explained his reasons for burning the flag as follows: “The American Flag was burned as Ronald Reagan was being renominated as President. And a more powerful statement of symbolic speech, whether you agree with it or not, couldn’t have been made at that time. It’s quite a just position [juxtaposition]. We had new patriotism and no patriotism.” 5 Record 656. In these circumstances, Johnson’s burning of the flag was conduct “sufficiently imbued with elements of communication,” Spence, 418 U. S., at 409, to implicate the First Amendment.

1 — I I — I

The government generally has a freer hand in restricting expressive conduct than it has in restricting the written or spoken word. See O’Brien, 391 U. S. at 376-377; Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288, 293 (1984); Dallas v. Stanglin, 490 U. S. 19, 25 (1989). It may not, however, proscribe particular conduct because it has expressive elements. “[W]hat might be termed the more generalized guarantee of freedom of expression makes the communicative nature of conduct an inadequate basis for singling out that conduct for proscription. A law directed at the communicative nature of conduct must, like a law directed at speech itself, be justified by the substantial showing of need that the First Amendment requires.” Community for Creative Non-Violence v. Watt, 227 U.. S. App. D. C. 19, 55-56, 703 F. 2d 586, 622-623 (1983) (Scalia, J., dissenting) (emphasis in original), rev’d sub nom. Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, supra. It is, in short, not simply the verbal or nonverbal nature of the expression, but the govern*407mental interest at stake, that helps to determine whether a restriction on that expression is valid.

Thus, although we have recognized that where “‘speech’ and ‘nonspeech’ elements are combined in the same course of conduct, a sufficiently important governmental interest in regulating the nonspeech element can justify incidental limitations on First Amendment freedoms,” O’Brien, supra, at 376, we have limited the applicability of O’Brien’s relatively lenient standard to those cases in which “the governmental interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression.” Id., at 377; see also Spence, supra, at 414, n. 8. In stating, moreover, that O’Brien’s test “in the last analysis is little, if any, different from the standard applied to time, place, or manner restrictions,” Clark, supra, at 298, we have highlighted the requirement that the governmental interest in question be unconnected to expression in order to come under O’Brien’s less demanding rule.

In order to decide whether O’Brien’s test applies here, therefore, we must decide whether Texas has asserted an interest in support of Johnson’s conviction that is unrelated to the suppression of expression. If we find that an interest asserted by the State is simply not implicated on the facts before us, we need not ask whether O’Brien’s test applies. See Spence, supra, at 414, n. 8. The State offers two separate interests to justify this conviction: preventing breaches of the peace and preserving the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity. We hold that the first interest is not implicated on this record and that the second is related to the suppression of expression.

A

Texas claims that its interest in preventing breaches of the peace justifies Johnson’s conviction for flag desecration.4 *408However, no disturbance of the peace actually occurred or threatened to occur because of Johnson’s burning of the flag. Although the State stresses the disruptive behavior of the protestors during their march toward City Hall, Brief for Petitioner 34-36, it admits that “no actual breach of the peace occurred at the time of the flagburning or in response to the flagburning.” Id., at 34. The State’s emphasis on the protestors’ disorderly actions prior to arriving at City Hall is not only somewhat surprising given that no charges were brought on the basis of this conduct, but it also fails to show that a disturbance of the peace was a likely reaction to Johnson’s conduct. The only evidence offered by the State at trial to show the reaction to Johnson’s actions was the testimony of several persons who had been seriously offended by the flag burning. Id., at 6-7.

The State’s position, therefore, amounts to a claim that an audience that takes serious offense at particular expression is necessarily likely to disturb the peace and that the expression may be prohibited on this basis.5 Our precedents do not countenance such a presumption. On the contrary, they recognize that a principal “function of free speech under our system of government is to invite dispute. It may indeed best serve its high purpose when it induces a condition of unrest, creates dissatisfaction with conditions as they are, or *409even stirs people to anger.” Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U. S. 1, 4 (1949). See also Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 551 (1965); Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist. 393 U. S., at 508-509; Coates v. Cincinnati, 402 U. S. 611, 615 (1971); Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U. S. 46, 55-56 (1988). It would be odd indeed to conclude both that “if it is the speaker’s opinion that gives offense, that consequence is a reason for according it constitutional protection,” FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S. 726, 745 (1978) (opinion of Stevens, J.), and that the government may ban the expression of certain disagreeable ideas on the unsupported presumption that their very disagreeableness will provoke violence.

Thus, we have not permitted the government to assume that every expression of a provocative idea will incite a riot, but have instead required careful consideration of the actual circumstances surrounding such expression, asking whether the expression “is directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.” Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444, 447 (1969) (reviewing circumstances surrounding rally and speeches by Ku Klux Klan). To accept Texas’ arguments that it need only demonstrate “the potential for a breach of the peace,” Brief for Petitioner 37, and that every flag burning necessarily possesses that potential, would be to eviscerate our holding in Brandenburg. This we decline to do.

Nor does Johnson’s expressive conduct fall within that small class of “fighting words” that are “likely to provoke the average person to retaliation, and thereby cause a breach of the peace.” Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 574 (1942). No reasonable onlooker would have regarded Johnson’s generalized expression of dissatisfaction with the policies of the Federal Government as a direct personal insult or an invitation to exchange fisticuffs. See id., at 572-573; Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 309 (1940); FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, supra, at 745 (opinion of Stevens, J.).

*410We thus conclude that the State’s interest in maintaining order is not implicated on these facts. The State need not worry that our holding will disable it from preserving the peace. We do not suggest that the First Amendment forbids a State to prevent “imminent lawless action.” Brandenburg, supra, at 447. And, in fact, Texas already has a statute specifically prohibiting breaches of the peace, Tex. Penal Code Ann. §42.01 (1989), which tends to confirm that Texas need not punish this flag desecration in order to keep the peace. See Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S., at 327-329.

B

The State also asserts an interest in preserving the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity. In Spence, we acknowledged that the government’s interest in preserving the flag’s special symbolic value “is directly related to expression in the context of activity” such as affixing a peace symbol to a flag. 418 U. S., at 414, n. 8. We are equally persuaded that this interest is related to expression in the case of Johnson’s burning of the flag. The State, apparently, is concerned that such conduct will lead people to believe either that the flag does not stand for nationhood and national unity, but instead reflects other, less positive concepts, or that the concepts reflected in the flag do not in fact exist., that is, that we do not enjoy unity as a Nation. These concerns blossom only when a person’s treatment of the flag communicates some message, and thus are related “to the suppression of free expression” within the meaning of O’Brien. We are thus outside of O’Brien’s test altogether.

H-i <

It remains to consider whether the State s interest m preserving the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity justifies Johnson’s conviction.

As in Spence, “[w]e are confronted with a case of prosecution for the expression of an idea through activity,” and “[a]c-cordingly, we must examine with particular care the inter*411ests advanced by [petitioner] to support its prosecution.” 418 U. S., at 411. Johnson was not, we add, prosecuted for the expression of just any idea; he was prosecuted for his expression of dissatisfaction with the policies of this country, expression situated at the core of our First Amendment values. See, e. g., Boos v. Barry, supra, at 318; Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U. S. 474, 479 (1988).

Moreover, Johnson was prosecuted because he knew that his politically charged expression would cause “serious offense.” If he had burned the flag as a means of disposing of it because it was dirty or torn, he would not have been convicted of flag desecration under this Texas law: federal law designates burning as the preferred means of disposing of a flag “when it is in such condition that it is no longer a fitting emblem for display,” 36 U. S. C. § 176(k), and Texas has no quarrel with this means of disposal. Brief for Petitioner 45. The Texas law is thus not aimed at protecting the physical integrity of the flag in all circumstances, but is designed instead to protect it only against impairments that would cause serious offense to others.6 Texas concedes as much: “Section 42.09(b) reaches only those severe acts of physical abuse of the flag carried out in a way likely to be offensive. The statute mandates intentional or knowing abuse, that is, the kind of mistreatment that is not innocent, but rather is intentionally designed to seriously offend other individuals.” Id., at 44.

Whether Johnson’s treatment of the flag violated Texas law thus depended on the likely communicative impact of his expressive conduct.7 Our decision in Boos v. Barry, supra, *412tells us that this restriction on Johnson’s expression is content based. In Boos, we considered the constitutionality of a law prohibiting “the display of any sign within 500 feet of a foreign embassy if that sign tends to bring that foreign government into ‘public odium’ or ‘public disrepute.’” Id., at 315. Rejecting the argument that the law was content neutral because it was justified by “our international law obligation to shield diplomats from speech that offends their dignity,” id., at 320, we held that “[t]he emotive impact of speech on its audience is not a ‘secondary effect’ ” unrelated to the content of the expression itself. Id., at 321 (plurality opinion); see also id., at 334 (Brennan, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment).

According to the principles announced in Boos, Johnson’s political expression was restricted because of the content of the message he conveyed. We must therefore subject the State’s asserted interest in preserving the special symbolic character of the flag to “the most exacting scrutiny.” Boos v. Barry, supra, at 321.8

*413Texas argues that its interest in preserving the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity survives this close analysis. Quoting extensively from the writings of this Court chronicling the flag’s historic and symbolic role in our society, the State emphasizes the “'special place’” reserved for the flag in our Nation. Brief for Petitioner 22, quoting Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S., at 601 (Rehnquist, J., dissenting). The State’s argument is not that it has an interest simply in maintaining the flag as a symbol of something, no matter what it symbolizes; indeed, if that were the State’s position, it would be difficult to see how that interest is endangered by highly symbolic conduct such as Johnson’s. Rather, the State’s claim is that it has an interest in preserving the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity, a symbol with a determinate range of meanings. Brief for Petitioner 20-24. According to Texas, if one physically treats the flag in a way that would tend to cast doubt on either the idea that nationhood and national unity are the flag’s referents or that national unity actually exists, the message conveyed thereby is a harmful one and therefore may be prohibited.9

*414If there is a bedrock principle underlying the First Amendment, it is that the government may not prohibit the expression of an idea simply because society finds the idea itself offensive or disagreeable. See, e. g., Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U. S., at 55-56; City Council of Los Angeles v. Taxpayers for Vincent, 466 U. S. 789, 804 (1984); Bolger v. Youngs Drug Products Corp., 463 U. S. 60, 65, 72 (1983); Carey v. Brown, 447 U. S. 455, 462-463 (1980); FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S., at 745-746; Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U. S. 50, 63-65, 67-68 (1976) (plurality opinion); Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1, 16-17 (1976); Grayned v. Rockford, 408 U. S. 104, 115 (1972); Police Dept. of Chicago v. Mosley, 408 U. S. 92, 95 (1972); Bachellar v. Maryland, 397 U. S. 564, 567 (1970); O’Brien, 391 U. S., at 382; Brown v. Louisiana, 383 U. S., at 142-143; Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S., at 368-369.

We have not recognized an exception to this principle even where our flag has been involved. In Street v. New York, 394 U. S. 576 (1969), we held that a State may not criminally punish a person for uttering words critical of the flag. Rejecting the argument that the conviction could be sustained on the ground that Street had “failed to show the respect for our national symbol which may properly be demanded of every citizen,” we concluded that “the constitutionally guaranteed ‘freedom to be intellectually . . . diverse or even contrary,’ and the ‘right to differ as to things that touch the heart of the existing order,’ encompass the freedom to express publicly one’s opinions about our flag, including those opinions which are defiant or contemptuous.” Id., at 593, quoting Barnette, 319 U. S., at 642. Nor may the government, we have held, compel conduct that would evince respect for the flag. “To sustain the compulsory flag salute we are required to say that a Bill of Rights which guards the individual’s right to speak his own mind, left it open to public authorities to compel him to utter what is not in his mind.” Id., at 634.

*415In holding in Barnette that the Constitution did not leave this course open to the government, Justice Jackson described one of our society’s defining principles in words deserving of their frequent repetition: “If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein.” Id., at 642. In Spence, we held that the same interest asserted by Texas here was insufficient to support a criminal conviction under a flag-misuse statute for the taping of a peace sign to an American flag. “Given the protected character of [Spence’s] expression and in light of the fact that no interest the State may have in preserving the physical integrity of a privately owned flag was significantly impaired on these facts,” we held, “the conviction must be invalidated.” 418 U. S., at 415. See also Goguen, supra, at 588 (White, J., concurring in judgment) (to convict person who had sewn a flag onto the seat of his pants for “contemptuous” treatment of the flag would be “[t]o convict not to protect the physical integrity or to protect against acts interfering with the proper use of the flag, but to punish for communicating ideas unacceptable to the controlling majority in the legislature”).

In short, nothing in our precedents suggests that a State may foster its own view of the flag by prohibiting expressive conduct relating to it.10 To bring its argument outside our *416precedents, Texas attempts to convince us that even if its interest in preserving the flag’s symbolic role does not allow it to prohibit words or some expressive conduct critical of the flag, it does permit it to forbid the outright destruction of the flag. The State’s argument cannot depend here on the distinction between written or spoken words and nonverbal conduct. That distinction, we have shown, is of no moment where the nonverbal conduct is expressive, as it is here, and where the regulation of that conduct is related to expression, as it is here. See supra, at 402-403. In addition, both Bar-nette and Spence involved expressive conduct, not only verbal communication, and both found that conduct protected.

Texas’ focus on the precise nature of Johnson’s expression, moreover, misses the point of our prior decisions: their enduring lesson, that the government may not prohibit expression simply because it disagrees with its message, is not dependent on the particular mode in which one chooses to express an idea.11 If we were to hold that a State may forbid flag burning wherever it is likely to endanger the flag’s symbolic role, but allow it wherever burning a flag promotes that role — as where, for example, a person ceremoniously burns a dirty flag — we would be saying that when it comes to impairing the flag’s physical integrity, the flag itself may be used as *417a symbol — as a substitute for the written or spoken word or a “short cut from mind to mind” — only in one direction. We would be permitting a State to “prescribe what shall be orthodox” by saying that one may burn the flag to convey one’s attitude toward it and its referents only if one does not endanger the flag’s representation of nationhood and national unity.

We never before have held that the Government may ensure that a symbol be used to express only one view of that symbol or its referents. Indeed, in Schacht v. United States, we invalidated a federal statute permitting an actor portraying a member of one of our Armed Forces to “‘wear the uniform of that armed force if the portrayal does not tend to discredit that armed force.’” 398 U. S., at 60, quoting 10 U. S. C. § 772(f). This proviso, we held, “which leaves Americans free to praise the war in Vietnam but can send persons like Schacht to prison for opposing it, cannot survive in a country which has the First Amendment.” Id., at 63.

We perceive no basis on which to hold that the principle underlying our decision in Schacht does not apply to this case. To conclude that the government may permit designated symbols to be used to communicate only a limited set of messages would be to enter territory having no discernible or defensible boundaries. Could the government, on this theory, prohibit the burning of state flags? Of copies of the Presidential seal? Of the Constitution? In evaluating these choices under the First Amendment, how would we decide which symbols were sufficiently special to warrant this unique status? To do so, we would be forced to consult our own political preferences, and impose them on the citizenry, in the very way that the First Amendment forbids us to do. See Carey v. Brown, 447 U. S., at 466-467.

There is, moreover, no indication — either in the text of the Constitution or in our cases interpreting it — that a separate juridical category exists for the American flag alone. Indeed, we would not be surprised to learn that the persons *418who framed our Constitution and wrote the Amendment that we now construe were not known for their reverence for the Union Jack. The First Amendment does not guarantee that other concepts virtually sacred to our Nation as a whole— such as the principle that discrimination on the basis of race is odious and destructive — will go unquestioned in the marketplace of ideas. See Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444 (1969). We decline, therefore, to create for the flag an exception to the joust of principles protected by the First Amendment.

It is not the State’s ends, but its means, to which we object. It cannot be gainsaid that there is a special place reserved for the flag in this Nation, and thus we do not doubt that the government has a legitimate interest in making efforts to “presence] the national flag as an unalloyed symbol of our country.” Spence, 418 U. S., at 412. We reject the suggestion, urged at oral argument by counsel for Johnson, that the government lacks “any state interest whatsoever” in regulating the manner in which the flag may be displayed. Tr. of Oral Arg. 38. Congress has, for example, enacted precatory regulations describing the proper treatment of the flag, see 36 U. S. C. §§ 173-177, and we cast no doubt on the legitimacy of its interest in making such recommendations. To say that the government has an interest in encouraging proper treatment of the flag, however, is not to say that it may criminally punish a person for burning a flag as a means of political protest. “National unity as an end which officials may foster by persuasion and example is not in question. The problem is whether under our Constitution compulsion as here employed is a permissible means for its achievement.” Barnette, 319 U. S., at 640.

We are fortified in today’s conclusion by our conviction that forbidding criminal punishment for conduct such as Johnson’s will not endanger the special role played by our flag or the feelings it inspires. To paraphrase Justice Holmes, we submit that nobody can suppose that this one gesture of an un*419known man will change our Nation’s attitude towards its flag. See Abrams v. United States, 250 U. S. 616, 628 (1919) (Holmes, J., dissenting). Indeed, Texas’ argument that the burning of an American flag “ ‘is an act having a high likelihood to cause a breach of the peace,’ ” Brief for Petitioner 31, quoting Sutherland v. DeWulf, 323 F. Supp. 740, 745 (SD Ill. 1971) (citation omitted), and its statute’s implicit assumption that physical mistreatment of the flag will lead to “serious offense,” tend to confirm that the flag’s special role is not in danger; if it were, no one would riot or take offense because a flag had been burned.

We are tempted to say, in fact, that the flag’s deservedly cherished place in our community will be strengthened, not weakened, by our holding today. Our decision is a reaffirmation of the principles of freedom and inclusiveness that the flag best reflects, and of the conviction that our toleration of criticism such as Johnson’s is a sign and source of our strength. Indeed, one of the proudest images of our flag, the one immortalized in our own national anthem, is of the bombardment it survived at Fort McHenry. It is the Nation’s resilience, not its rigidity, that Texas sees reflected in the flag — and it is that resilience that we reassert today.

The way to preserve the flag’s special role is not to punish those who feel differently about these matters. It is to persuade them that they are wrong. “To courageous, self-reliant men, with confidence in the power of free and fearless reasoning applied through the processes of popular government, no danger flowing from speech can be deemed clear and present, unless the incidence of the evil apprehended is so imminent that it may befall before there is opportunity for full discussion. If there be time to expose through discussion the falsehood and fallacies, to avert the evil by the processes of education, the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.” Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 377 (1927) (Brandéis, J., concurring). And, precisely because it is our flag that is involved, one’s response to the flag *420burner may exploit the uniquely persuasive power of the flag itself. We ean imagine no more appropriate response to burning a flag than waving one’s own, no better way to counter a flag burner’s message than by saluting the flag that burns, no surer means of preserving the dignity even of the flag that burned than by — as one witness here did — according its remains a respectful burial. We do not consecrate the flag by punishing its desecration, for in doing so we dilute the freedom that this cherished emblem represents.

V

Johnson was convicted for engaging in expressive conduct. The State’s interest in preventing breaches of the peace does not support his conviction because Johnson’s conduct did not threaten to disturb the peace. Nor does the State’s interest in preserving the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity justify his criminal conviction for engaging in political expression. The judgment of the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals is therefore

Affirmed.

1

Texas Penal Code Ann. §42.09 (1989) provides in full:

“§ 42.09. Desecration of Venerated Object “(a) A person commits an offense if he intentionally or knowingly desecrates:
“(1) a public monument;
“(2) a place of worship or burial; or “(3) a state or national flag.
“(b) For purposes of this section, ‘desecrate’ means deface, damage, or otherwise physically mistreat in a way that the actor knows will seriously offend one or more persons likely to observe or discover his action.
“(c) An offense under this section is a Class A misdemeanor.”

2

Because the prosecutor’s closing argument observed that Johnson had led the protestors in chants denouncing the flag while it burned, Johnson suggests that he may have been convicted for uttering critical words rather than for burning the flag. Brief for Respondent 33-34. He relies on Street v. New York, 394 U. S. 576, 578 (1969), in which we reversed a conviction obtained under a New York statute that prohibited publicly defying or casting contempt on the flag “either by words or act” because we were persuaded that the defendant may have been convicted for his words alone. Unlike the law we faced in Street, however, the Texas flag-desecration statute does not on its face permit conviction for remarks critical of the flag, as Johnson himself admits. See Brief for Respondent 34. Nor was the jury in this case told that it could convict Johnson of flag desecration if it found only that he had uttered words critical of the flag and its referents.

Johnson emphasizes, though, that the jury was instructed — according to Texas’ law of parties — that ‘“a person is criminally responsible for an offense committed by the conduct of another if acting with intent to promote or assist the commission of the offense, he solicits, encourages, directs, aids, or attempts to aid the other person to commit the offense.’” Id,., at 2, n. 2, quoting 1 Record 49. The State offered this instruction because Johnson’s defense was that he was not the person who had burned the flag. Johnson did not object to this instruction at trial, and although he challenged it on direct appeal, he did so only on the ground that there was insufficient evidence to support it. 706 S. W. 2d 120, 124 (Tex. App. 1986). It is only in this Court that Johnson has argued that the law-of-parties instruction might have led the jury to convict him for his words alone. Even if we were to find that this argument is properly raised here, however, we would conclude that it has no merit in these circumstances. The instruction would not have permitted a conviction merely for the pejorative nature of Johnson’s words, and those words themselves did not encourage the burning of the flag as the instruction seems to require. Given the additional fact that “the bulk of the State’s *403argument was premised on Johnson’s culpability as a sole actor,” ibid., we find it too unlikely that the jury convicted Johnson on the basis of this alternative theory to consider reversing his conviction on this ground.

3

Although Johnson has raised a facial challenge to Texas’ flag-desecration statute, we choose to resolve this case on the basis of his claim that the statute as applied to him violates the First Amendment. Section 42.09 regulates only physical conduct with respect to the flag, not the written or spoken word, and although one violates the statute only if one “knows” that one’s physical treatment of the flag “will seriously offend one or more persons likely to observe or discover his action,” Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 42.09(b) (1989), this fact does not necessarily mean that the statute applies only to expressive conduct protected by the First Amendment. Cf. Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S. 566, 588 (1974) (White, J., concurring in judgment) (statute prohibiting “contemptuous” treatment of flag encompasses only expressive conduct). A tired person might, for example, drag a flag through the mud, knowing that this conduct is likely to offend others, and yet have no thought of expressing any idea; neither the language nor the Texas courts’ interpretations of the statute precludes the possibility that such a person would be prosecuted for flag desecration. Because the prosecution of a person who had not engaged in expressive conduct would pose a different case, and because this case may be disposed of on narrower grounds, we address only Johnson’s claim that § 42.09 as applied to political expression like his violates the First Amendment.

4

Relying on our decision in Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S. 312 (1988), Johnson argues that this state interest is related to the suppression of free expression within the meaning of United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367 (1968). He reasons that the violent reaction to flag burnings feared by *408Texas would be the result of the message conveyed by them, and that this fact connects the State’s interest to the suppression of expression. Brief for Respondent 12, n. 11. This view has found some favor in the lower courts. See Monroe v. State Court of Fulton County, 739 F. 2d 568, 574-575 (CA11 1984). Johnson’s theory may overread Boos insofar as it suggests that a desire to prevent a violent audience reaction is “related to expression” in the same way that a desire to prevent an audience from being offended is “related to expression.” Because we find that the State’s interest in preventing breaches of the peace is not implicated on these facts, however, we need not venture further into this area.

5

There is, of course, a tension between this argument and the State’s claim that one need not actually cause serious offense in order to violate § 42.09. See Brief for Petitioner 44.

6

Cf. Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S., at 590-591 (Blackmun, J., dissenting) (emphasizing that lower court appeared to have construed state statute so as to protect physical integrity of the flag in all circumstances); id., at 597-598 (Rehnquist, J., dissenting) (same).

7

Texas suggests that Johnson’s conviction did not depend on the onlookers’ reaction to the flag burning because § 42.09 is violated only when a person physically mistreats the flag in a way that he “knows will seriously offend one or more persons likely to observe or discover his action.” Tex. *412Penal Code Ann. § 42.09(b) (1989) (emphasis added). “The ‘serious offense’ language of the statute,” Texas argues, “refers to an individual’s intent and to the manner in which the conduct is effectuated, not to the reaction of the crowd.” Brief for Petitioner 44. If the statute were aimed only at the actor’s intent and not at the communicative impact of his actions, however, there would be little reason for the law to be triggered only when an audience is “likely” to be present. At Johnson’s trial, indeed, the State itself seems not to have seen the distinction between knowledge and actual communicative impact that it now stresses; it proved the element of knowledge by offering the testimony of persons who had in fact been seriously offended by Johnson’s conduct. Id., at 6-7. In any event, we find the distinction between Texas’ statute and one dependent on actual audience reaction too precious to be of constitutional significance. Both kinds of statutes clearly are aimed at protecting onlookers from being offended by the ideas expressed by the prohibited activity.

8

Our inquiry is, of course, bounded by the particular facts of this case and by the statute under which Johnson was convicted. There was no evidence that Johnson himself stole the flag he burned, Tr. of Oral Arg. 17, nor did the prosecution or the arguments urged in support of it depend on *413the theory that the flag was stolen. Ibid. Thus, our analysis does not rely on the way in which the flag was acquired, and nothing in our opinion should be taken to suggest that one is free to steal a flag so long as one later uses it to communicate an idea. We also emphasize that Johnson was prosecuted only for flag desecration — not for trespass, disorderly conduct, or arson.

9

Texas claims that “Texas is not endorsing, protecting, avowing or prohibiting any particular philosophy. ” Brief for Petitioner 29. If Texas means to suggest that its asserted interest does not prefer Democrats over Socialists, or Republicans over Democrats, for example, then it is beside the point, for Johnson does not rely on such an argument. He argues instead that the State’s desire to maintain the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity assumes that there is only one proper view of the flag. Thus, if Texas means to argue that its interest does not prefer any viewpoint over another, it is mistaken; surely one’s attitude toward the flag and its referents is a viewpoint.

10

Our decision in Halter v. Nebraska, 205 U. S. 34 (1907), addressing the validity of a state law prohibiting certain commercial uses of the flag, is not to the contrary. That case was decided “nearly 20 years before the Court concluded that the First Amendment applies to the States by virtue of the Fourteenth Amendment.” Spence v. Washington, 418 U. S. 405, 413, n. 7 (1974). More important, as we continually emphasized in Halter itself, that case involved purely commercial rather than political speech. 205 U. S., at 38, 41, 42, 45.

Nor does San Francisco Arts & Athletics, Inc. v. United States Olympic Committee, 483 U. S. 522, 524 (1987), addressing the validity of Congress’ decision to “authoriz[e] the United States Olympic Committee to prohibit *416certain commercial and promotional uses of the word ‘Olympic,’” relied upon by The Chief Justice’s dissent, post, at 429, even begin to tell us whether the government may criminally punish physical conduct towards the flag engaged in as a means of political protest.

11

The Chief Justice’s dissent appears to believe that Johnson’s conduct may be prohibited and, indeed, criminally sanctioned, because “his act . . . conveyed nothing that could not have been conveyed and was not conveyed just as forcefully in a dozen different ways.” Post, at 431. Not only does this assertion sit uneasily next to the dissent’s quite correct reminder that the flag occupies a unique position in our society — which demonstrates that messages conveyed without use of the flag are not “just as forcefufl]” as those conveyed with it — but it also ignores the fact that, in Spence, supra, we “rejected summarily” this very claim. See 418 U. S., at 411, n. 4.

Justice Kennedy,

concurring.

I write not to qualify the words Justice Brennan chooses so well, for he says with power all that is necessary to explain our ruling. I join his opinion without reservation, but with a keen sense that this case, like others before us from time to time, exacts its personal toll. This prompts me to add to our pages these few remarks.

The case before us illustrates better than most that the judicial power is often difficult in its exercise. We cannot here ask another Branch to share responsibility, as when the argument is made that a statute is flawed or incomplete. For we are presented with a clear and simple statute to be judged against a pure command of the Constitution. The outcome can be laid at no door but ours.

The hard fact is that sometimes we must make decisions we do not like. We make them because they are right, right *421in the sense that the law and the Constitution, as we see them, compel the result. And so great is our commitment to the process that, except in the rare case, we do not pause to express distaste for the result, perhaps for fear of undermining a valued principle that dictates the decision. This is one of those rare cases.

Our colleagues in dissent advance powerful arguments why respondent may be convicted for his expression, reminding us that among those who will be dismayed by our holding will be some who have had the singular honor of carrying the flag in battle. And I agree that the flag holds a lonely place of honor in an age when absolutes are distrusted and simple truths are burdened by unneeded apologetics.

With all respect to those views, I do not believe the Constitution gives us the right to rule as the dissenting Members of the Court urge, however painful this judgment is to announce. Though symbols often are what we ourselves make of them, the flag is constant in expressing beliefs Americans share, beliefs in law and peace and that freedom which sustains the human spirit. The case here today forces recognition of the costs to which those beliefs commit us. It is poignant but fundamental that the flag protects those who hold it in contempt.

For all the record shows, this respondent was not a philosopher and perhaps did not even possess the ability to comprehend how repellent his statements must be to the Republic itself. But whether or not he could appreciate the enormity of the offense he gave, the fact -remains that his acts were speech, in both the technical and the fundamental meaning of the Constitution. So I agree with the Court that he must go free.

Chief Justice Rehnquist,

with whom Justice White and Justice O’Connor join,

dissenting.

In holding this Texas statute unconstitutional, the Court ignores Justice Holmes’ familiar aphorism that “a page of history is worth a volume of logic.” New York Trust Co. v. *422Eisner, 256 U. S. 345, 349 (1921). For more than 200 years, the American flag has occupied a unique position as the symbol of our Nation, a uniqueness that justifies a governmental prohibition against flag burning in the way respondent Johnson did here.

At the time of the American Revolution, the flag served to unify the Thirteen Colonies at home, while obtaining recognition of national sovereignty abroad. Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “Concord Hymn” describes the first skirmishes of the Revolutionary War in these lines:

“By the rude bridge that arched the flood Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood And fired the shot heard round the world.”

During that time, there were many colonial and regimental flags, adorned with such symbols as pine trees, beavers, anchors, and rattlesnakes, bearing slogans such as “Liberty or Death,” “Hope,” “An Appeal to Heaven,” and “Don’t Tread on Me.” The first distinctive flag of the Colonies was the “Grand Union Flag” — with 13 stripes and a British flag in the left corner — which was flown for the first time on January 2, 1776, by troops of the Continental Army around Boston. By June 14, 1777, after we declared our independence from England, the Continental Congress resolved:

“That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white: that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” 8 Journal of the Continental Congress 1774-1789, p. 464 (W. Ford ed. 1907).

One immediate result of the flag’s adoption was that American vessels harassing British shipping sailed under an authorized national flag. Without such a flag, the British could treat captured seamen as pirates and hang them summarily; with a national flag, such seamen were treated as prisoners of war.

*423During the War of 1812, British naval forces sailed up Chesapeake Bay and marched overland to sack and burn the city of Washington. They then sailed up the Patapsco River to invest the city of Baltimore, but to do so it was first necessary to reduce Fort McHenry in Baltimore Harbor. Francis Scott Key, a Washington lawyer, had been granted permission by the British to board one of their warships to negotiate the release of an American who had been taken prisoner. That night, waiting anxiously on the British ship, Key watched the British fleet firing on Fort McHenry. Finally, at daybreak, he saw the fort’s American flag still flying; the British attack had failed. Intensely moved, he began to scribble on the back of an envelope the poem that became our national anthem:

“0 say can you see by the dawn’s early light
What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes & bright stars through the perilous fight
O’er the ramparts we watch’d, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket’s red glare, the bomb bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,
0 say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free & the home of the brave?”

The American flag played a central role in our Nation’s most tragic conflict, when the North fought against the South. The lowering of the American flag at Fort Sumter was viewed as the start of the war. G. Preble, History of the Flag of the United States of America 453 (1880). The Southern States, to formalize their separation from the Union, adopted the “Stars and Bars” of the Confederacy. The Union troops marched to the sound of “Yes We’ll Rally Round The Flag Boys, We’ll Rally Once Again.” President Abraham Lincoln refused proposals to remove from the *424American flag the stars representing the rebel States, because he considered the conflict not a war between two nations but an attack by 11 States against the National Government. Id., at 411. By war’s end, the American flag again flew over “an indestructible union, composed of indestructible states.” Texas v. White, 7 Wall. 700, 725 (1869).

One of the great stories of the Civil War is told in John Greenleaf Whittier’s poem, “Barbara Frietchie”:

“Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,
The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple- and peach-tree fruited deep,
Fair as a garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,
On that pleasant morn of the early fall
When Lee marched over the mountain wall, —
Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.
Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;
In her attic-window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.
‘Halt!’ — the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
‘Fire!’ — out blazed the rifle-blast.
*425It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;
She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.
‘Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country’s flag,’ she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;
The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman’s deed and word:
‘Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on! ’ he said.
All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet:
All day long that free flag tost
Over the heads of the rebel host.
Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;
And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night.
Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er,
And the Rebel rides on his raids no more.
Honor to her! and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.
Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave,
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town!”

In the First and Second World Wars, thousands of our countrymen died on foreign soil fighting for the American cause. At Iwo Jima in the Second World War, United States Marines fought hand to hand against thousands of *426Japanese. By the time the Marines reached the top of Mount Suribachi, they raised a piece of pipe upright and from one end fluttered a flag. That ascent had cost nearly 6,000 American lives. The Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery memorializes that event. President Franklin Roosevelt authorized the use of the flag on labels, packages, cartons, and containers intended for export as lend-lease aid, in order to inform people in other countries of the United States’ assistance. Presidential Proclamation No. 2605, 58 Stat. 1126.

During the Korean war, the successful amphibious landing of American troops at Inchon was marked by the raising of an American flag within an hour of the event. Impetus for the enactment of the Federal Flag Desecration Statute in 1967 came from the impact of flag burnings in the United States on troop morale in Vietnam. Representative L. Mendel Rivers, then Chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, testified that “[t]he burning of the flag . . . has caused my mail to increase 100 percent from the boys in Vietnam, writing me and asking me what is going on in America.” Desecration of the Flag, Hearings on H. R. 271 before Subcommittee No. 4 of the House Committee on the Judiciary, 90th Cong., 1st Sess., 189 (1967). Representative Charles Wiggins stated: “The public act of desecration of our flag tends to undermine the morale of American troops. That this finding is true can be attested by many Members who have received correspondence from servicemen expressing their shock and disgust of such conduct.” 113 Cong. Rec. 16459 (1967).

The flag symbolizes the Nation in peace as well as in war. It signifies our national presence on battleships, airplanes, military installations, and public buildings from the United States Capitol to the thousands of county courthouses and city halls throughout the country. Two flags are prominently placed in our courtroom. Countless flags are placed by the graves of loved ones each year on what was first called *427Decoration Day, and is now called Memorial Day. The flag is traditionally placed on the casket of deceased members of the Armed Forces, and it is later given to the deceased’s family. 10 U. S. C. §§ 1481, 1482. Congress has provided that the flag be flown at half-staff upon the death of the President, Vice President, and other government officials “as a mark of respect to their memory.” 36 U. S. C. § 175(m). The flag identifies United States merchant ships, 22 U. S. C. §454, and “[t]he laws of the Union protect our commerce wherever the flag of the country may float.” United States v. Guthrie, 17 How. 284, 309 (1855).

No other American symbol has been as universally honored as the flag. In 1931, Congress declared “The Star-Spangled Banner” to be our national anthem. 36 U. S. C. § 170. In 1949, Congress declared June 14th to be Flag Day. § 157. In 1987, John Philip Sousa’s “The Stars and Stripes Forever” was designated as the national march. Pub. L. 101-186, 101 Stat. 1286. Congress has also established “The Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag” and the manner of its deliverance. 36 U. S. C. § 172. The flag has appeared as the principal symbol on approximately 33 United States postal stamps and in the design of at least 43 more, more times than any other symbol. United States Postal Service, Definitive Mint Set 15 (1988).

Both Congress and the States have enacted numerous laws regulating misuse of the American flag. Until 1967, Congress left the regulation of misuse of the flag up to the States. Now, however, 18 U. S. C. § 700(a) provides that:

“Whoever knowingly casts contempt upon any flag of the United States by publicly mutilating, defacing, defiling, burning, or trampling upon it shall be fined not more than $1,000 or imprisoned for not more than one year, or both.”

Congress has also prescribed, inter alia, detailed rules for the design of the flag, 4 U. S. C. § 1, the time and occasion of flag’s display, 36 U. S. C. § 174, the position and manner of *428its display, § 175, respect for the flag, § 176, and conduct during hoisting, lowering, and passing of the flag, § 177. With the exception of Alaska and Wyoming, all of the States now have statutes prohibiting the burning of the flag.1 Most of the state statutes are patterned after the Uniform Flag Act of 1917, which in §3 provides: “No person shall publicly mutilate, deface, defile, defy, trample upon, or by word or act cast contempt upon any such flag, standard, color, ensign or shield.” Proceedings of National Conference of Commissioners on Uniform State Laws 323-324 (1917). Most were passed by the States at about the time of World War I. Rosenblatt, Flag Desecration Statutes: History and Analysis, 1972 Wash. U. L. Q. 193, 197.

*429The American flag, then, throughout more than 200 years of our history, has come to be the visible symbol embodying our Nation. It does not represent the views of any particular political party, and it does not represent any particular political philosophy. The flag is not simply another “idea” or “point of view” competing for recognition in the marketplace of ideas. Millions and millions of Americans regard it with an almost mystical reverence regardless of what sort of social, political, or philosophical beliefs they may have. I cannot agree that the First Amendment invalidates the Act of Congress, and the laws of 48 of the 50 States, which make criminal the public burning of the flag.

More than 80 years ago in Halter v. Nebraska, 205 U. S. 34 (1907), this Court upheld the constitutionality of a Nebraska statute that forbade the use of representations of the American flag for advertising purposes upon articles of merchandise. The Court there said:

“For that flag every true American has not simply an appreciation but a deep affection. . . . Hence, it has often occurred that insults to a flag have been the cause of war, and indignities put upon it, in the presence of those who revere it, have often been resented and sometimes punished on the spot.” Id., at 41.

Only two Terms ago, in San Francisco Arts & Athletics, Inc. v. United States Olympic Committee, 483 U. S. 522 (1987), the Court held that Congress could grant exclusive use of the word “Olympic” to the United States Olympic Committee. The Court thought that this “restrictio[n] on expressive speech properly [was] characterized as incidental to the primary congressional purpose of encouraging and rewarding the USOC’s activities.” Id., at 536. As the Court stated, “when a word [or symbol] acquires value ‘as the result of organization and the expenditure of labor, skill, and money’ by an entity, that entity constitutionally may obtain a limited property right in the word [or symbol].” Id., at 532, quoting International News Service v. Associated Press, 248 *430U. S. 215, 239 (1918). Surely Congress or the States may recognize a similar interest in the flag.

But the Court insists that the Texas statute prohibiting the public burning of the American flag infringes on respondent Johnson’s freedom of expression. Such freedom, of course, is not absolute. See Schenck v. United States, 249 U. S. 47 (1919). In Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568 (1942), a unanimous Court said:

“Allowing the broadest scope to the language and purpose of the Fourteenth Amendment, it is well understood that the right of free speech is not absolute at all times and under all circumstances. 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. These include the lewd and obscene, the profane, the libelous, and the insulting or ‘fighting’ words — those which by their very utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace. It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.” Id., at 571-572 (footnotes omitted).

The Court upheld Chaplinsky’s conviction under a state statute that made it unlawful to “address any offensive, derisive or annoying word to any person who is lawfully in any street or other public place.” Id., at 569. Chaplinsky had told a local marshal, “‘“You are a God damned racketeer” and a “damned Fascist and the whole government of Rochester are Fascists or agents of Fascists.’”” Ibid.

Here it may equally well be said that the public burning of the American flag by Johnson was no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and at the same time it had a tendency to incite a breach of the peace. Johnson was free to make any verbal denunciation of the flag that he wished; indeed, he was *431free to burn the flag in private. He could publicly burn other symbols of the Government or effigies of political leaders. He did lead a march through the streets of Dallas, and con-dücted a rally in front of the Dallas City Hall. He engaged in a “die-in” to protest nuclear weapons. He shouted out various slogans during the march, including: “Reagan, Món-dale which will it be? Either one means World War III”; “Ronald Reagan, killer of the hour, Perfect example of U. S. power”; and “red, white and blue, we spit on you, you stand for plunder, you will go under.” Brief for Respondent 3. For none of these acts was he arrested or prosecuted; it was only when he proceeded to burn publicly an American flag stolen from its rightful owner that he violated the Texas statute.

The Court could not, and did not, say that Chaplinsky’s utterances were not expressive phrases — they clearly and succinctly conveyed an extremely low opinion of the addressee. The same may be said of Johnson’s public burning of the flag in this case; it obviously did convey Johnson’s bitter dislike of his country. But his act, like Chaplinsky’s provocative words, conveyed nothing that could not have been conveyed and was not conveyed just as forcefully in a dozen different ways. As with “fighting words,” so with flag burning, for purposes of the First Amendment: It is “no. essential part of any exposition of ideas, and [is] of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that' may be derived from [it] is clearly outweighed” by the public interest in avoiding a probable breach of the peace. The highest courts of several States have upheld state statutes prohibiting the public burning of the flag on the grounds that it is so inherently inflammatory that it may cause a breach of public order. See, e. g., State v. Royal, 113 N. H. 224, 229, 305 A. 2d 676, 680 (1973); State v. Waterman, 190 N. W. 2d 809, 811-812 (Iowa 1971); see also State v. Mitchell, 32 Ohio App. 2d 16, 30, 288 N. E. 2d 216, 226 (1972).

*432The result of the Texas statute is obviously to deny one in Johnson’s frame of mind one of many means of “symbolic speech.” Far from being a case of “one picture being worth a thousand words,” flag burning is the equivalent of an inarticulate grunt or roar that, it seems fair to say, is most likely to be indulged in not to express any particular idea, but to antagonize others. Only five years ago we said in City Council of Los Angeles v. Taxpayers for Vincent, 466 U. S. 789, 812 (1984), that “the First Amendment does not guarantee the right to employ every conceivable method of communication at all times and in all places.” The Texas statute deprived Johnson of only one rather inarticulate symbolic form of protest — a form of protest that was profoundly offensive to many — and left him with a full panoply of other symbols and every conceivable form of verbal expression to express his deep disapproval of national policy. Thus, in no way can it be said that Texas is punishing him because his hearers — or any other group of people — were profoundly opposed to the message that he sought to convey. Such opposition is no proper basis for restricting speech or expression under the First Amendment. It was Johnson’s use of this particular symbol, and not the idea that he sought to convey by it or by his many other expressions, for which he was punished.

Our prior cases dealing with flag desecration statutes have left open the question that the Court resolves today. In Street v. New York, 394 U. S. 576, 579 (1969), the defendant burned a flag in the street, shouting “We don’t need no damned flag” and “[i]f they let that happen to Meredith we don’t need an American flag.” The Court ruled that since the defendant might have been convicted solely on the basis of his words, the conviction could not stand, but it expressly reserved the question whether a defendant could constitutionally be convicted for burning the flag. Id., at 581.

Chief Justice Warren, in dissent, stated: “I believe that the States and Federal Government do have the power to protect the flag from acts of desecration and disgrace. . . . [I]t is dif*433ficult for me to imagine that, had the Court faced this issue, it would have concluded otherwise.” Id., at 605. Justices Black and Fortas also expressed their personal view that a prohibition on flag burning did not violate the Constitution. See id., at 610 (Black, J., dissenting) (“It passes my belief that anything in the Federal Constitution bars a State from making the deliberate burning of the American Flag an offense”); id., at 615-617 (Fortas, J., dissenting) (“[T]he States and the Federal Government have the power to protect the flag from acts of desecration committed in public. . . . [T]he flag is a special kind of personality. Its use is traditionally and universally subject to special rules and regulation. ... A person may ‘own’ a flag, but ownership is subject to special burdens and responsibilities. A flag may be property, in a sense; but it is property burdened with peculiar obligations and restrictions. Certainly . . . these special conditions are not per se arbitrary or beyond governmental power under our Constitution”).

In Spence v. Washington, 418 U. S. 405 (1974), the Court reversed the conviction of a college student who displayed the flag with a peace symbol affixed to it by means of removable black tape from the window of his apartment. Unlike the instant case, there was no risk of a breach of the peace, no one other than the arresting officers saw the flag, and the defendant owned the flag in question. The Court concluded that the student’s conduct was protected under the First Amendment, because “no interest the State may have in preserving the physical integrity of a privately owned flag was significantly impaired on these facts.” Id., at 415. The Court was careful to note, however, that the defendant “was not charged under the desecration statute, nor did he permanently disfigure the flag or destroy it.” Ibid.

In another related case, Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S. 566 (1974), the appellee, who wore a small flag on the seat of his trousers, was convicted under a Massachusetts flag-misuse statute that subjected to criminal liability anyone who *434“publicly . . . treats contemptuously the flag of the United States.” Id., at 568-569. The Court affirmed the lower court’s reversal of appellee’s conviction, because the phrase “treats contemptuously” was unconstitutionally broad and vague. Id., at 576. The Court was again careful to point out that “[c]ertainly nothing prevents a legislature from defining with substantial specificity what constitutes forbidden treatment of United States flags.” Id., at 581-582. See also id., at 587 (White, J., concurring in judgment) (“The flag is a national property, and the Nation may regulate those who would make, imitate, sell, possess, or use it. I would not question those statutes which proscribe mutilation, defacement, or burning of the flag or which otherwise protect its physical integrity, without regard to whether such conduct might provoke violence. . . . There would seem to be little question about the power of Congress to forbid the mutilation of the Lincoln Memorial. . . . The flag is itself a monument, subject to similar protection”); id., at 591 (Black-mun, J., dissenting) (“Goguen’s punishment was constitutionally permissible for harming the physical integrity of the flag by wearing it affixed to the seat of his pants”).

But the Court today will have none of this. The uniquely deep awe and respect for our flag felt by virtually all of us are bundled off under the rubric of “designated symbols,” ante, at 417, that the First Amendment prohibits the government from “establishing.” But the government has not “established” this feeling; 200 years of history have done that. The government is simply recognizing as a fact the profound regard for the American flag created by that history when it enacts statutes prohibiting the disrespectful public burning of the flag.

The Court concludes its opinion with a regrettably patronizing civics lecture, presumably addressed to the Members of both Houses of Congress, the members of the 48 state legislatures that enacted prohibitions against flag burning, and the troops fighting under that flag in Vietnam who objected to its *435being burned: “The way to preserve the flag’s special role is not to punish those who feel differently about these matters. It is to persuade them that they are wrong.” Ante, at 419. The Court’s role as the final expositor of the Constitution is well established, but its role as a Platonic guardian admonishing those responsible to public opinion as if they were truant schoolchildren has no similar place in our system of government. The cry of “no taxation without representation” animated those who revolted against the English Crown to found our Nation — the idea that those who submitted to government should have some say as to what kind of laws would be passed. Surely one of the high purposes of a democratic society is to legislate against conduct that is regarded as evil and profoundly offensive to the majority of people — whether it be murder, embezzlement, pollution, or flag burning.

Our Constitution wisely places limits on powers of legislative majorities to act, but the declaration of such limits by this Court “is, at all times, a question of much delicacy, which ought seldom, if ever, to be decided in the affirmative, in a doubtful case.” Fletcher v. Peck, 6 Cranch 87, 128 (1810) (Marshall, C. J.). Uncritical extension of constitutional protection to the burning of the flag risks the frustration of the very purpose for which organized governments are instituted. The Court decides that the American flag is just another symbol, about which not only must opinions pro and con be tolerated, but for which the most minimal public respect may not be enjoined. The government may conscript men into the Armed Forces where they must fight and perhaps die for the flag, but the government may not prohibit the public burning of the banner under which they fight. I would uphold the Texas statute as applied in this case.2

1

See Ala. Code §13A-11-12 (1982); Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §13-3703 (1978); Ark. Code Ann. § 5-51-207 (1987); Cal. Mil. & Vet. Code Ann. § 614 (West 1988); Colo. Rev. Stat. § 18-11-204 (1986); Conn. Gen. Stat. § 53-258a (1985); Del. Code Ann., Tit. 11, §1331 (1987); Fla. Stat. §§256.05-256.051, 876.52 (1987); Ga. Code Ann. §50-3-9 (1986); Haw. Rev. Stat. §711-1107 (1988); Idaho Code §18-3401 (1987); Ill. Rev. Stat., ch. 1, ¶¶ 3307, 3351 (1980); Ind. Code § 35-45-1-4 (1986); Iowa Code § 32.1 (1978 and Supp. 1989); Kan. Stat. Ann. §21-4114 (1988); Ky. Rev. Stat. Ann. §525.110 (Michie Supp. 1988); La. Rev. Stat. Ann. §14:116 (West 1986); Me. Rev. Stat. Ann., Tit. 1, §254 (1979); Md. Ann. Code, Art. 27, §83 (1988); Mass. Gen. Laws §§ 264, 265 (1987); Mich. Comp. Laws § 750.246 (1968); Minn. Stat. §609.40 (1987); Miss. Code Ann. §97-7-39 (1973); Mo. Rev. Stat. §578.095 (Supp. 1989); Mont. Code Ann. §45-8-215 (1987); Neb. Rev. Stat. §28-928 (1985); Nev. Rev. Stat. §201.290 (1986); N. H. Rev. Stat. Ann. §646.1 (1986); N. J. Stat. Ann. §2C:33-9 (West 1982); N. M. Stat. Ann. § 30-21-4 (1984); N. Y. Gen. Bus. Law § 136 (McKinney 1988); N. C. Gen. Stat. §14-381 (1986); N. D. Cent. Code §12.1-07-02 (1985); Ohio Rev. Code Ann. §2927.11 (1987); Okla. Stat., Tit. 21, §372 (1983); Ore. Rev. Stat. §166.075 (1987); 18 Pa. Cons. Stat. §2102 (1983); R. I. Gen. Laws §11-15-2 (1981); S. C. Code §§16-17-220, 16-17-230 (1985 and Supp. 1988); S. D. Codified Laws §22-9-1 (1988); Tenn. Code Ann. §§39-5-843, 39-5-847 (1982); Tex. Penal Code Ann. §42.09 (1974); Utah Code Ann. §76-9-601 (1978); Vt. Stat. Ann., Tit. 13, §1903 (1974); Va. Code §18.2-488 (1988); Wash. Rev. Code §9.86.030 (1988); W. Va. Code §61-1-8 (1989); Wis. Stat. §946.05 (1985-1986).

2

In'holding that the Texas statute as applied to Johnson violates the First Amendment, the Court does not consider Johnson’s claims that the statute is unconstitutionally vague or overbroad. Brief for Respondent 24-30. I think those claims are without merit. In New York State Club Assn. v. City of New York, 487 U. S. 1, 11 (1988), we stated that a facial *436challenge is only proper under the First Amendment when a statute can never be applied in a permissible manner or when, even if it may be validly applied to a particular defendant, it is so broad as to reach the protected speech of third parties. While Tex. Penal Code Ann. §42.09 (1989) “may not satisfy those intent on finding fault at any cost, [it is] set out in terms that the ordinary person exercising ordinary common sense can sufficiently understand and comply with.” CSC v. Letter Carriers, 413 U. S. 548, 579 (1973). By defining “desecrate” as “deface,” “damage” or otherwise “physically mistreat” in a manner that the actor knows will “seriously offend” others, §42.09 only prohibits flagrant acts of physical abuse and destruction of the flag of the sort at issue here — soaking a flag with lighter fluid and igniting it in public — and not any of the examples of improper flag etiquette cited in respondent’s brief.

*436Justice Stevens,

dissenting.

As the Court analyzes this case, it presents the question whether the State of Texas, or indeed the Federal Government, has the power to prohibit the public desecration of the American flag. The question is unique. In my judgment rules that apply to a host of other symbols, such as state flags, armbands, or various privately promoted emblems of political or commercial identity, are not necessarily controlling. Even if flag burning could be considered just another species of symbolic speech under the logical application of the rules that the Court has developed in its interpretation of the First Amendment in other contexts, this case has an intangible dimension that makes those rules inapplicable.

A country’s flag is a symbol of more than “nationhood and national unity.” Ante, at 407, 410, 413, and n. 9, 417, 420. It also signifies the ideas that characterize the society that has chosen that emblem as well as the special history that has animated the growth and power of those ideas. The fleurs-de-lis and the tricolor both symbolized “nationhood and national unity,” but they had vastly different meanings. The message conveyed by some flags — the swastika, for example-may survive long after it has outlived its usefulness as a symbol of regimented unity in a particular nation.

*437So it is with the American flag. It is more than a proud symbol of the courage, the determination, and the gifts of nature that transformed 13 fledgling Colonies into a world power. It is a symbol of freedom, of equal opportunity, of religious tolerance, and of good will for other peoples who share our aspirations. The symbol carries its message to dissidents both at home and abroad who may have no interest at all in our national unity or survival.

The value of the flag as a symbol cannot be measured. Even so, I have no doubt that the interest in preserving that value for the future is both significant and legitimate. Conceivably that value will be enhanced by the Court’s conclusion that our national commitment to free expression is so strong that even the United States as ultimate guarantor of that freedom is without power to prohibit the desecration of its unique symbol. But I am unpersuaded. The creation of a federal right to post bulletin boards and graffiti on the Washington Monument might enlarge the market for free expression, but at a cost I would not pay. Similarly, in my considered judgment, sanctioning the public desecration of the flag will tarnish its value — both for those who cherish the ideas for which it waves and for those who desire to don the robes of martyrdom by burning it. That tarnish is not justified by the trivial burden on free expression occasioned by requiring that an available, alternative mode of expression— including uttering words critical of the flag, see Street v. New York, 394 U. S. 576 (1969)-be employed.

It is appropriate to emphasize certain propositions that are not implicated by this case. The statutory prohibition of flag desecration does not “prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein.” West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 642 (1943). The statute does not compel any conduct or any profession of respect for any idea or any symbol.

*438Nor does the statute violate “the government’s paramount obligation of neutrality in its regulation of protected communication.” Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U. S. 50, 70 (1976) (plurality opinion). The content of respondent’s message has no relevance whatsoever to the case. The concept of “desecration” does not turn on the substance of the message the actor intends to convey, but rather on whether those who view the act will take serious offense. Accordingly, one intending to convey a message of respect for the flag by burning it in a public square might nonetheless be guilty of desecration if he knows that others — perhaps simply because they misperceive the intended message — will be seriously offended. Indeed, even if the actor knows that all possible witnesses will understand that he intends to send a message of respect, he might still be guilty of desecration if he also knows that this understanding does not lessen the offense taken by some of those witnesses. Thus, this is not a case in which the fact that “it is the speaker’s opinion that gives offense” provides a special “reason for according it constitutional protection,” FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U. S. 726, 745 (1978) (plurality opinion). The case has nothing to do with “disagreeable ideas,” see ante, at 409. It involves disagreeable conduct that, in my opinion, diminishes the value of an important national asset.

The Court is therefore quite wrong in blandly asserting that respondent “was prosecuted for his expression of dissatisfaction with the policies of this country, expression situated at the core of our First Amendment values.” Ante, at 411. Respondent was prosecuted because of the method he chose to express his dissatisfaction with those policies. Had he chosen to spray-paint — or perhaps convey with a motion picture projector — his message of dissatisfaction on the facade of the Lincoln Memorial, there would be no question about the power of the Government to prohibit his means of expression. The prohibition would be supported by the legitimate interest in preserving the quality of an important *439national asset. Though the asset at stake in this case is intangible, given its unique value, the same interest supports a prohibition on the desecration of the American flag.*

The ideas of liberty and equality have been an irresistible force in motivating leaders like Patrick Henry, Susan B. Anthony, and Abraham Lincoln, schoolteachers like Nathan Hale and Booker T. Washington, the Philippine Scouts who fought at Bataan, and the soldiers who scaled the bluff at Omaha Beach. If those ideas are worth fighting for — and our history demonstrates that they are — it cannot be true that the flag that uniquely symbolizes their power is not itself worthy of protection from unnecessary desecration.

I respectfully dissent.

*

The Court suggests that a prohibition against flag desecration is not content neutral because this form of symbolic speech is only used by persons who are critical of the flag or the ideas it represents. In making this suggestion the Court does not pause to consider the far-reaching consequences of its introduction of disparate-impact analysis into our First Amendment jurisprudence. It seems obvious that a prohibition against the desecration of a gravesite is content neutral even if it denies some protesters the right to make a symbolic statement by extinguishing the flame in Arlington Cemetery where John F. Kennedy is buried while permitting others to salute the flame by bowing their heads. Few would doubt that a protester who extinguishes the flame has desecrated the gravesite, regardless of whether he prefaces that act with a speech explaining that his purpose is to express deep admiration or unmitigated scorn for the late President. Likewise, few would claim that the protester who bows his head has desecrated the gravesite, even if he makes clear that his purpose is to show disrespect. In such a case, as in a flag burning case, the prohibition against desecration has absolutely nothing to do with the content of the message that the symbolic speech is intended to convey.

15.30 Barnes v. Glen Theatre, Inc. 15.30 Barnes v. Glen Theatre, Inc.

BARNES, PROSECUTING ATTORNEY OF ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDIANA, et al. v. GLEN THEATRE, INC., et al.

No. 90-26.

Argued January 8, 1991

Decided June 21, 1991

*562Wayne E. Uhl, Deputy Attorney General of Indiana, argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs was Linley E. Pearson, Attorney General.

Bruce J. Ennis, Jr., argued the cause for respondents. Lee J. Klein and Bradley J. Shafer filed a brief for respondents Glen Theatre, Inc., et al. Patrick Louis Baude and Charles A. Asher filed a brief for respondents Darlene Miller et al.*

Chief Justice Rehnquist

announced the judgment of the Court and delivered an opinion, in which Justice O’Con-nor and Justice Kennedy join.

Respondents are two establishments in South Bend, Indiana, that wish to provide totally nude dancing as entertainment, and individual dancers who are employed at these *563establishments. They claim that the First Amendment’s guarantee of freedom of expression prevents the State of Indiana from enforcing its public indecency law to prevent this form of dancing. We reject their claim.

The facts appear from the pleadings and findings of the District Court and are uncontested here. The Kitty Kat Lounge, Inc. (Kitty Kat), is located in the city of South Bend. It sells alcoholic beverages and presents “go-go dancing.” Its proprietor desires to present “totally nude dancing,” but an applicable Indiana statute regulating public nudity requires that the dancers wear “pasties” and “G-strings” when they dance. The dancers are not paid an hourly wage, but work on commission. They receive a 100 percent commission on the first $60 in drink sales during their performances. Darlene Miller, one of the respondents in the action, had worked at the Kitty Kat for about two years at the time this action was brought. Miller wishes to dance nude because she believes she would make more money doing so.

Respondent Glen Theatre, Inc., is an Indiana corporation with a place of business in South Bend. Its primary business is supplying so-called adult entertainment through written and printed materials, movie showings, and live entertainment at an enclosed “bookstore.” The live entertainment at the “bookstore” consists of nude and seminude performances and showings of the female body through glass panels. Customers sit in a booth and insert coins into a timing mechanism that permits them to observe the live nude and seminude dancers for a period of time. One of Glen Theatre’s dancers, Gayle Ann Marie Sutro, has danced, modeled, and acted professionally for more than 15 years, and in addition to her performances at the Glen Theatre, can be seen in a pornographic movie at a nearby theater. App. to Pet. for Cert. 131-133.

Respondents sued in the United States District Court for the Northern District of Indiana to enjoin the enforcement of the Indiana public indecency statute, Ind. Code § 35-45-4-1 *564(1988), asserting that its prohibition against complete nudity in public places violated the First Amendment. The District Court originally granted respondents’ prayer for an injunction, finding that the statute was facially overbroad. The Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit reversed, deciding that previous litigation with respect to the statute in the Supreme Court of Indiana and this Court precluded the possibility of such a challenge,1 and remanded to the District Court in order for the plaintiffs to pursue their claim that the statute violated the First Amendment as applied to their dancing. Glen Theatre, Inc. v. Pearson, 802 F. 2d 287, 288-290 (1986). On remand, the District Court concluded that *565“the type of dancing these plaintiffs wish to perform is not expressive activity protected by the Constitution of the United States,” and rendered judgment in favor of the defendants. Glen Theatre, Inc. v. Civil City of South Bend, 695 F. Supp. 414, 419 (1988). The case was again appealed to the Seventh Circuit, and a panel of that court reversed the District Court, holding that the nude dancing involved here was expressive conduct protected by the First Amendment. Miller v. Civil City of South Bend, 887 F. 2d 826 (1989). The Court of Appeals then heard the case en banc, and the court rendered a series of comprehensive and thoughtful opinions. The majority concluded that nonobscene nude dancing performed for entertainment is expression protected by the First Amendment, and that the public indecency statute was an improper infringement of that expressive activity because its purpose was to prevent the message of eroticism and sexuality conveyed by the dancers. Miller v. Civil City of South Bend, 904 F. 2d 1081 (1990). We granted certio-rari, 498 U. S. 807 (1990), and now hold that the Indiana statutory requirement that the dancers in the establishments involved in this case must wear pasties and G-strings does not violate the First Amendment.

Several of our cases contain language suggesting that nude dancing of the kind involved here is expressive conduct protected by the First Amendment. In Doran v. Salem Inn, Inc., 422 U. S. 922, 932 (1975), we said: “[A]lthough the customary ‘barroom’ type of nude dancing may involve only the barest minimum of protected expression, we recognized in California v. LaRue, 409 U. S. 109, 118 (1972), that this form of entertainment might be entitled to First and Fourteenth Amendment protection under some circumstances.” In Schad v. Mount Ephraim, 452 U. S. 61, 66 (1981), we said that “[fjurthermore, as the state courts in this case recognized, nude dancing is not without its First Amendment protections from official regulation” (citations omitted). These statements support the conclusion of the Court of Appeals *566that nude dancing of the kind sought to be performed here is expressive conduct within the outer perimeters of the First Amendment, though we view it as only marginally so. This, of course, does not end our inquiry. We must determine the level of protection to be afforded to the expressive conduct at issue, and must determine whether the Indiana statute is an impermissible infringement of that protected activity.

Indiana, of course, has not banned nude dancing as such, but has proscribed public nudity across the board. The Supreme Court of Indiana has construed the Indiana statute to preclude nudity in what are essentially places of public accommodation such as the Glen Theatre and the Kitty Kat Lounge. In such places, respondents point out, minors are excluded and there are no nonconsenting viewers. Respondents contend that while the State may license establishments such as the ones involved here, and limit the geographical area in which they do business, it may not in any way limit the performance of the dances within them without violating the First Amendment. The petitioners contend, on the other hand, that Indiana’s restriction on nude dancing is a valid “time, place, or manner” restriction under cases such as Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288 (1984).

The “time, place, or manner” test was developed for evaluating restrictions on expression taking place on public property which had been dedicated as a “public forum,” Ward v. Rock Against Racism, 491 U. S. 781, 791 (1989), although we have on at least one occasion applied it to conduct occurring on private property. See Renton v. Playtime Theatres, Inc., 475 U. S. 41 (1986). In Clark we observed that this test has been interpreted to embody much the same standards as those set forth in United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367 (1968), and we turn, therefore, to the rule enunciated in O’Brien.

O’Brien burned his draft card on the steps of the South Boston Courthouse in the presence of a sizable crowd, and *567was convicted of violating a statute that prohibited the knowing destruction or mutilation of such a card. He claimed that his conviction was contrary to the First Amendment because his act was “symbolic speech” — expressive conduct. The Court rejected his contention that symbolic speech is entitled to full First Amendment protection, saying:

“[E]ven on the assumption that the alleged communicative element in O’Brien’s conduct is sufficient to bring into play the First Amendment, it does not necessarily follow that the destruction of a registration certificate is constitutionally protected activity. This Court has held that when ‘speech’ and ‘nonspeech’ elements are combined in the same course of conduct, a sufficiently important governmental interest in regulating the non-speech element can justify incidental limitations on First Amendment freedoms. To characterize the quality of the governmental interest which must appear, the Court has employed a variety of descriptive terms: compelling; substantial; subordinating; paramount; cogent; strong. Whatever imprecision inheres in these terms, we think it clear that a government regulation is sufficiently justified if it is within the constitutional power of the Government; if it furthers an important or substantial governmental interest; if the governmental interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression; and if the incidental restriction on alleged First Amendment freedoms is no greater than is essential to the furtherance of that interest.” Id., at 376-377 (footnotes omitted).

Applying the four-part O’Brien test enunciated above, we find that Indiana’s public indecency statute is justified despite its incidental limitations on some expressive activity. The public indecency statute is clearly within the constitutional power of the State and furthers substantial governmental interests. It is impossible to discern, other than from the text of the statute, exactly what governmental interest the Indiana legislators had in mind when they enacted *568this statute, for Indiana does not record legislative history, and the State’s highest court has not shed additional light on the statute’s purpose. Nonetheless, the statute’s purpose of protecting societal order and morality is clear from its text and history. Public indecency statutes of this sort are of ancient origin and presently exist in at least 47 States. Public indecency, including nudity, was a criminal offense at common law, and this Court recognized the common-law roots of the offense of “gross and open indecency” in Winters v. New York, 333 U. S. 507, 515 (1948). Public nudity was considered an act malum in se. Le Roy v. Sidley, 1 Sid. 168, 82 Eng. Rep. 1036 (K. B. 1664). Public indecency statutes such as the one before us reflect moral disapproval of people appearing in the nude among strangers in public places.

This public indecency statute follows a long line of earlier Indiana statutes banning all public nudity. The history of Indiana’s public indecency statute shows that it predates barroom nude dancing and was enacted as a general prohibition. At least as early as 1831, Indiana had a statute punishing “open and notorious lewdness, or . . . any grossly scandalous and public indecency.” Rev. Laws of Ind., ch. 26, § 60 (1831); Ind. Rev. Stat., ch. 53, § 81 (1834). A gap during which no statute was in effect was filled by the Indiana Supreme Court in Ardery v. State, 56 Ind. 328 (1877), which held that the court could sustain a conviction for exhibition of “privates” in the presence of others. The court traced the offense to the Bible story of Adam and Eve. Id., at 329-330. In 1881, a statute was enacted that would remain essentially unchanged for nearly a century:

“Whoever, being over fourteen years of age, makes an indecent exposure of his person in a public place, or in any place where there are other persons to be offended or annoyed thereby, ... is guilty of public indecency . . . .” 1881 Ind. Acts, ch. 37, § 90.

*569The language quoted above remained unchanged until it was simultaneously repealed and replaced with the present statute in 1976. 1976 Ind. Acts, Pub. L. 148, Art. 45, ch. 4, § 1.2

This and other public indecency statutes were designed to protect morals and public order. The traditional police power of the States is defined as the authority to provide for the public health, safety, and morals, and we have upheld such a basis for legislation. In Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49, 61 (1973), we said:

“In deciding Roth [v. United States, 354 U. S. 476 (1957)], this Court implicitly accepted that a legislature could legitimately act on such a conclusion to protect ‘the social interest in order and morality.’ [Id.], at 485.” (Emphasis omitted.)

And in Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186, 196 (1986), we said:

“The law, however, is constantly based on notions of morality, and if all laws representing essentially moral choices are to be invalidated under the Due Process Clause, the courts will be very busy indeed.”

Thus, the public indecency statute furthers a substantial government interest in protecting order and morality.

*570This interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression. Some may view restricting nudity on moral grounds as necessarily related to expression. We disagree. It can be argued, of course, that almost limitless types of conduct — including appearing in the nude in public — are “expressive,” and in one sense of the word this is true.' People who go about in the nude in public may be expressing something about themselves by so doing. But the court rejected this expansive notion of “expressive conduct” in O’Brien, saying:

“We cannot accept the view that an apparently limitless variety of conduct can be labeled ‘speech’ whenever the person engaging in the conduct intends thereby to express an idea.” 391 U. S., at 376.

And in Dallas v. Stanglin, 490 U. S. 19 (1989), we further observed:

“It is possible to find some kernel of expression in almost every activity a person undertakes — for example, walking down the street or meeting one’s friends at a shopping mall — but such a kernel is not sufficient to bring the activity within the protection of the First Amendment. We think the activity of these dance-hall patrons — coming together to engage in recreational dancing — is not protected by the First Amendment.” Id., at 25.

Respondents contend that even though prohibiting nudity in public generally may not be related to suppressing expression, prohibiting the performance of nude dancing is related to expression because the State seeks to prevent its erotic message. Therefore, they reason that the application of the Indiana statute to the nude dancing in this case violates the First Amendment, because it fails the third part of the O’Brien test, viz: the governmental interest must be unrelated to the suppression of free expression.

But we do not think that when Indiana applies its statute to the nude dancing in these nightclubs it is proscribing nudity because of the erotic message conveyed by the dancers. *571Presumably numerous other erotic performances are presented at these establishments and similar clubs without any interference from the State, so long as the performers wear a scant amount of clothing. Likewise, the requirement that the dancers don pasties and G-strings does not deprive the dance of whatever erotic message it conveys; it simply makes the message slightly less graphic. The perceived evil that Indiana seeks to address is not erotic dancing, but public nudity. The appearance of people of all shapes, sizes and ages in the nude at a beach, for example, would convey little if any erotic message, yet the State still seeks to prevent it. Public nudity is the evil the State seeks to prevent, whether or not it is combined with expressive activity.

This conclusion is buttressed by a reference to the facts of O’Brien. An Act of Congress provided that anyone who knowingly destroyed a Selective Service registration certificate committed an offense. O’Brien burned his certificate on the steps of the South Boston Courthouse to influence others to adopt his antiwar beliefs. This Court upheld his conviction, reasoning that the continued availability of issued certificates served a legitimate and substantial purpose in the administration of the Selective Service System. O’Brien’s deliberate destruction of his certificate frustrated this purpose and “[f]or this noncommunicative impact of his conduct, and for nothing else, he was convicted.” 391 U. S., at 382. It was assumed that O’Brien’s act in burning the certificate had a communicative element in it sufficient to bring into play the First Amendment, id., at 376, but it was for the non-communicative element that he was prosecuted. So here with the Indiana statute; while the dancing to which it was applied had a communicative element, it was not the dancing that was prohibited, but simply its being done in the nude.

The fourth part of the O’Brien test requires that the incidental restriction on First Amendment freedom be no greater than is essential to the furtherance of the governmental interest. As indicated in the discussion above, the *572governmental interest served by the text of the prohibition is societal disapproval of nudity in public places and among strangers. The statutory prohibition is not a means to some greater end, but an end in itself. It is without cavil that the public indecency statute is “narrowly tailored”; Indiana’s requirement that the dancers wear at least pasties and G-strings is modest, and the bare minimum necessary to achieve the State’s purpose.

The judgment of the Court of Appeals accordingly is

Reversed.

Justice Scalia,

concurring in the judgment.

I agree that the judgment of the Court of Appeals must be reversed. In my view, however, the challenged regulation must be upheld, not because it survives some lower level of First Amendment scrutiny, but because, as a general law regulating conduct and not specifically directed at expression, it is not subject to First Amendment scrutiny at all.

1 — I

Indiana’s public indecency statute provides:

“(a) A person who knowingly or intentionally, in a public place:
“(1) engages in sexual intercourse;
“(2) engages in deviate sexual conduct;
“(3) appears in a state of nudity; or
“(4) fondles the genitals of himself or another person; commits public indecency, a Class A misdemeanor.
“(b) ‘Nudity’ means the showing of the human male or female genitals, pubic area, or buttocks with less than a fully opaque covering, the showing of the female breast with less than a fully opaque covering of any part of the nipple, or the showing of covered male genitals in a discernibly turgid state.” Ind. Code §35-45-4-1 (1988).

On its face, this law is not directed at expression in particular. As Judge Easterbrook put it in his dissent below: “Indi*573ana does not regulate dancing. It regulates public nudity. . . . Almost the entire domain of Indiana’s statute is unrelated to expression, unless we view nude beaches and topless hot dog vendors as speech.” Miller v. Civil City of South Bend, 904 F. 2d 1081, 1120 (CA7 1990). The intent to convey a “message of eroticism” (or any. other message) is not a necessary element of the statutory offense of public indecency; nor does one commit that statutory offense by conveying the most explicit “message of eroticism,” so long as he does not commit any of the four specified acts in the process.1

Indiana’s statute is in the line of a long tradition of laws against public nudity, which have never been thought to run afoul of traditional understanding of “the freedom of speech.” Public indecency — including public nudity — has long been an offense at common law. See 50 Am. Jur. 2d, Lewdness, Indecency, and Obscenity § 17, pp. 449, 472-474 (1970); Annot., Criminal offense predicated on indecent exposure, 93 A. L. R. 996, 997-998 (1934); Winters v. New York, 333 U. S. 507, 515 (1948). Indiana’s first public nudity statute, Rev. Laws of Ind., ch. 26, § 60 (1831), predated by many years the appearance of nude barroom dancing. It was general in scope, directed at all public nudity, and not just at public nude expression; and all succeeding statutes, down to *574the present one, have been the same. Were it the case that Indiana in practice targeted only expressive nudity, while turning a blind eye to nude beaches and unclothed purveyors of hot dogs and machine tools, see Miller, 904 F. 2d, at 1120, 1121, it might be said that what posed as a regulation of conduct in general was in reality a regulation of only communicative conduct. Respondents have adduced no evidence of that. Indiana officials have brought many public indecency prosecutions for activities having no communicative element. See Bond v. State, 515 N. E. 2d 856, 857 (Ind. 1987); In re Levinson, 444 N. E. 2d 1175, 1176 (Ind. 1983); Preston v. State, 259 Ind. 353, 354-355, 287 N. E. 2d 347, 348 (1972); Thomas v. State, 238 Ind. 658, 659-660, 154 N. E. 2d 503, 504-505 (1958); Blanton v. State, 533 N. E. 2d 190, 191 (Ind. App. 1989); Sweeney v. State, 486 N. E. 2d 651, 652 (Ind. App. 1985); Thompson v. State, 482 N. E. 2d 1372, 1373-1374 (Ind. App. 1985); Adims v. State, 461 N. E. 2d 740, 741-742 (Ind. App. 1984); State v. Elliott, 435 N. E. 2d 302, 304 (Ind. App. 1982); Lasko v. State, 409 N. E. 2d 1124, 1126 (Ind. App. 1980).2

The dissent confidently asserts, post, at 590-591, that the purpose of restricting nudity in public places in general is to protect nonconsenting parties from offense; and argues that since only consenting, admission-paying patrons see respondents dance, that purpose cannot apply and the only remaining purpose must relate to the communicative elements of the performance. Perhaps the dissenters believe that “offense to others” ought to be the only reason for restricting nudity in public places generally, but there is no *575basis for thinking that our society has ever shared that Thoreauvian “you-may-do-what-you-like-so-long-as-it-does-not-injure-someone-else” beau ideal — much less for thinking that it was written into the Constitution. The purpose of Indiana’s nudity law would be violated, I think, if 60,000 fully consenting adults crowded into the Hoosier Dome to display their genitals to one another, even if there were not an offended innocent in the crowd. Our society prohibits, and all human societies have prohibited, certain activities not because they harm others but because they are considered, in the traditional phrase, “contra bonos mores,” i. e., immoral. In American society, such prohibitions have included, for example, sadomasochism, cockfighting, bestiality, suicide, drug use, prostitution, and sodomy. While there may be great diversity of view on whether various of these prohibitions should exist (though I have found few ready to abandon, in principle, all of them), there is no doubt that, absent specific constitutional protection for the conduct involved, the Constitution does not prohibit them simply because they regulate “morality.” See Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186, 196 (1986) (upholding prohibition of private homosexual sodomy enacted solely on “the presumed belief of a majority of the electorate in [the jurisdiction] that homosexual sodomy is immoral and unacceptable”). See also Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49, 68, n. 15 (1973); Dronenburg v. Zech, 239 U. S. App. D. C. 229, 238, and n. 6, 741 F. 2d 1388, 1397, and n. 6 (1984) (opinion of Bork, J.). The purpose of the Indiana statute, as both its text and the manner of its enforcement demonstrate, is to enforce the traditional moral belief that people should not expose their private parts indiscriminately, regardless of whether those who see them are disedified. Since that is so, the dissent has no basis for positing that, where only thoroughly edified adults are present, the purpose must be repression of communication.3

*576I — I I — I

Since the Indiana regulation is a general law not specifically targeted at expressive conduct, its application to such conduct does not in my view implicate the First Amendment.

The First Amendment explicitly protects “the freedom of speech [and] of the press” — -oral and written speech — not “expressive conduct.” When any law restricts speech, even for a purpose that has nothing to do with the suppression of communication (for instance, to reduce noise, see Saia v. New York, 334 U. S. 558, 561 (1948), to regulate election campaigns, see Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1, 16 (1976), or to prevent littering, see Schneider v. State (Town of Irvington), 308 U. S. 147, 163 (1939)), we insist that it meet the high, First Amendment standard of justification. But virtually every law restricts conduct, and virtually any prohibited conduct can be performed for an expressive purpose — if only expressive of the fact that the actor disagrees with the prohibition. See, e. g., Florida Free Beaches, Inc. v. Miami, 734 F. 2d 608, 609 (CA11 1984) (nude sunbathers challenging public indecency law claimed their “message” was that nudity is not indecent). It cannot reasonably be demanded, therefore, that every restriction of expression incidentally produced by a general law regulating conduct pass normal First Amendment scrutiny, or even — as some of our cases have suggested, see, e. g., United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367, 377 (1968) — that it be justified by an “important or sub*577stantial” government interest. Nor do our holdings require such justification: We have never invalidated the application of a general law simply because the conduct that it reached was being engaged in for expressive purposes and the government could not demonstrate a sufficiently important state interest.

This is not to say that the First Amendment affords no protection to expressive conduct. Where the government prohibits conduct precisely because of its communicative attributes, we hold the regulation unconstitutional. See, e. g., United States v. Eichman, 496 U. S. 310 (1990) (burning flag); Texas v. Johnson, 491 U. S. 397 (1989) (same); Spence v. Washington, 418 U. S. 405 (1974) (defacing flag); Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503 (1969) (wearing black arm bands); Brown v. Louisiana, 383 U. S. 131 (1966) (participating in silent sit-in); Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359 (1931) (flying a red flag).4 In each of the foregoing cases, we explicitly found that suppressing communication was the object of the regulation of conduct. Where that has not been the case, however — where suppression of communicative use of the conduct was merely the incidental effect of forbidding the conduct for other reasons — we have allowed the regulation to stand. O’Brien, supra, at 377 (law banning destruction of draft card upheld in application against card burning to pro*578test war); FTC v. Superior Court Trial Lawyers Assn., 493 U. S. 411 (1990) (Sherman Act upheld in application against restraint of trade to protest low pay); cf. United States v. Albertini, 472 U. S. 675, 687-688 (1985) (rule barring respondent from military base upheld in application against entrance on base to protest war); Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288 (1984) (rule barring sleeping in parks upheld in application against persons engaging in such conduct to dramatize plight of homeless). As we clearly expressed the point in Johnson:

“The government generally has a freer hand in restricting expressive conduct than it has in restricting the written or spoken word. It may not, however, proscribe particular conduct because it has expressive elements. What might be termed the more generalized guarantee of freedom of expression makes the communicative nature of conduct an inadequate basis for singling out that conduct for proscription.” 491 U. S., at 406 (internal quotation marks and citations omitted; emphasis in original).

All our holdings (though admittedly not some of our discussion) support the conclusion that “the only First Amendment analysis applicable to laws that do not directly or indirectly impede speech is the threshold inquiry of whether the purpose of the law is to suppress communication. If not, that is the end of the matter so far as First Amendment guarantees are concerned; if so, the court then proceeds to determine whether there is substantial justification for the proscription.” Community for Creative Non-Violence v. Watt, 227 U. S. App. D. C. 19, 55-56, 703 F. 2d 586, 622-623 (1983) (en banc) (Scalia, J., dissenting), (footnote omitted; emphasis omitted), rev’d sub nom. Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288 (1984). Such a regime ensures that the government does not act to suppress communication, without requiring that all conduct-restricting regulation *579(which means in effect all regulation) survive an enhanced level of scrutiny.

We have explicitly adopted such a regime in another First Amendment context: that of free exercise. In Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources of Ore. v. Smith, 494 U. S. 872 (1990), we held that general laws not specifically targeted at religious practices did not require heightened First Amendment scrutiny even though they diminished some people’s ability to practice their religion. “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.’” Id., at 885, quoting Lyng v. Northwest Indian Cemetery Protective Assn., 485 U. S. 439, 451 (1988); see also Minersville School District v. Gobitis, 310 U. S. 586, 594-595 (1940) (Frankfurter, J.) (“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”). There is even greater reason to apply this approach to the regulation of expressive conduct. Relatively few can plausibly assert that their illegal conduct is being engaged in for religious reasons; but almost anyone can violate almost any law as a means of expression. In the one case, as in the other, if the law is not directed against the protected value (religion or expression) the law must be obeyed.

I I — I KH

While I do not think the plurality s conclusions differ greatly from my own, I cannot entirely endorse its reasoning. The plurality purports to apply to this general law, insofar as it regulates this allegedly expressive conduct, an intermediate level of First Amendment scrutiny: The government interest in the regulation must be “‘important or substantial,’”. ante, at 567, quoting O’Brien, supra, at 377. As I have indi*580cated, I do not believe such a heightened standard exists. I think we should avoid wherever possible, moreover, a method of analysis that requires judicial assessment of the “importance” of government interests — and especially of government interests in various aspects of morality.

Neither of the cases that the plurality cites to support the “importance” of the State's interest here, see ante, at 569, is in point. Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S., at 61, and Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S., at 196, did uphold laws prohibiting private conduct based on concerns of decency and morality; but neither opinion held that those concerns were particularly “important” or “substantial,” or amounted to anything more than a rational basis for regulation. Slaton involved an exhibition which, since it was obscene and at least to some extent public, was unprotected by the First Amendment, see Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476 (1957); the State’s prohibition could therefore be invalidated only if it had no rational basis. We found that the State’s “right . . . to maintain a decent society” provided a “legitimate” basis for regulation — even as to obscene material viewed by consenting adults. 413 U. S., at 59-60. In Bowers, we held that since homosexual behavior is not a fundamental right, a Georgia law prohibiting private homosexual intercourse needed only a rational basis in order to comply with the Due Process Clause. Moral opposition to homosexuality, we said, provided that rational basis. 478 U. S., at 196. I would uphold the Indiana statute on precisely the same ground: Moral opposition to nudity supplies a rational basis for its prohibition, and since the First Amendment has no application to this case no more than that is needed.

‡ # ‡

Indiana may constitutionally enforce its prohibition of public nudity even against those who choose to use public nudity as a means of communication. The State is regulating conduct, not expression, and those who choose to employ con*581duct as a means of expression must make sure that the conduct they select is not generally forbidden. For these reasons, I agree that the judgment should be reversed.

Justice Souter,

concurring in the judgment.

Not all dancing is entitled to First Amendment protection as expressive activity. This Court has previously categorized ballroom dancing as beyond the Amendment’s protection, Dallas v. Stanglin, 490 U. S. 19, 24-25 (1989), and dancing as aerobic exercise would likewise be outside the First Amendment’s concern. But dancing as a performance directed to an actual or hypothetical audience gives expression at least to generalized emotion or feeling, and where the dancer is nude or nearly so the feeling expressed, in the absence of some contrary clue, is eroticism, carrying an endorsement of erotic experience. Such is the expressive content of the dances described in the record.

Although such performance dancing is inherently expressive, nudity per se is not. It is a condition, not an activity, and the voluntary assumption of that condition, without more, apparently expresses nothing beyond the view that the condition is somehow appropriate to the circumstances. But every voluntary act implies some such idea, and the implication is thus so common and minimal that calling all voluntary activity expressive would reduce the concept of expression to the point of the meaningless. A search for some expression beyond the minimal in the choice to go nude will often yield nothing: a person may choose nudity, for example, for maximum sunbathing. But when nudity is combined with expressive activity, its stimulative and attractive value certainly can enhance the force of expression, and a dancer’s acts in going from clothed to nude, as in a striptease, are integrated into the dance and its expressive function. Thus I agree with the plurality and the dissent that an interest in freely engaging in the nude dancing at issue here is subject to a degree of First Amendment protection.

*582I also agree with the plurality that the appropriate analysis to determine the actual protection required by the First Amendment is the four-part enquiry described in United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367 (1968), for judging the limits of appropriate state action burdening expressive acts as distinct from pure speech or representation. I nonetheless write separately to rest my concurrence in the judgment, not on the possible sufficiency of society’s moral views to justify the limitations at issue, but on the State’s substantial interest in combating the secondary effects of adult entertainment establishments of the sort typified by respondents’ establishments.

It is, of course, true that this justification has not been articulated by Indiana’s Legislature or by its courts. As the plurality observes, “Indiana does not record legislative history, and the State’s highest court has not shed additional light on the statute’s purpose,” ante, at 568. While it is certainly sound in such circumstances to infer general purposes “of protecting societal order and morality . . . from [the statute’s] text and history,” ibid., I think that we need not so limit ourselves in identifying the justification for the legislation at issue here, and may legitimately consider petitioners’ assertion that the statute is applied to nude dancing because such dancing “encourag[es] prostitution, increases] sexual assaults, and attracts] other criminal activity.” Brief for Petitioners 37.

This asserted justification for the statute may not be ignored merely because it is unclear to what extent this purpose motivated the Indiana Legislature in enacting the statute. Our appropriate focus is not an empirical enquiry into the actual intent of the enacting legislature, but rather the existence or not of a current governmental interest in the service of which the challenged application of the statute may be constitutional. Cf. McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420 *583(1961). At least as to the regulation of expressive conduct,1 “[w]e decline to void [a statute] essentially on the ground that it is unwise legislation which [the legislature] had the undoubted power to enact and which could be reenacted in its exact form if the same or another legislator made a ‘wiser’ speech about it.” O'Brien, supra, at 384. In my view, the interest asserted by petitioners in preventing prostitution, sexual assault, and other criminal activity, although presumably not a justification for all applications of the statute, is sufficient under O’Brien to justify the State’s enforcement of the statute against the type of adult entertainment at issue here.

At the outset, it is clear that the prevention of such evils falls within the constitutional power of the State, which satisfies the first O’Brien criterion. See 391 U. S., at 377. The second O’Brien prong asks whether the regulation “furthers an important or substantial governmental interest.” Ibid. The asserted state interest is plainly a substantial one; the only question is whether prohibiting nude dancing of the sort at issue here “furthers” that interest. I believe that our cases have addressed this question sufficiently to establish that it does.

In Renton v. Playtime Theatres, Inc., 475 U. S. 41 (1986), we upheld a city’s zoning ordinance designed to prevent the occurrence of harmful secondary effects, including the crime associated with adult entertainment, by protecting approximately 95% of the city’s area from the placement of motion picture theaters emphasizing “‘matter depicting, describing or relating to “specified sexual activities” or “specified anatomical areas” ... for observation by patrons therein.’” Id., at 44. Of particular importance to the present enquiry, we held that the city of Renton was not compelled to justify its restrictions by studies specifically relating to the problems *584that would be caused by adult theaters in that city. Rather, “Renton was entitled to rely on the experiences of Seattle and other cities,” id., at 51, which demonstrated the harmful secondary effects correlated with the presence “of even one [adult] theater in a given neighborhood.” Id., at 50; cf. Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U. S. 50, 71, n. 34 (1976) (legislative finding that “a concentration of ‘adult’ movie theaters causes the area to deteriorate and become a focus of crime”); California v. LaRue, 409 U. S. 109, 111 (1972) (administrative findings of criminal activity associated with adult entertainment).

The type of entertainment respondents seek to provide is plainly of the same character as that at issue in Renton, American Mini Theatres, and LaRue. It therefore is no leap to say that live nude dancing of the sort at issue here is likely to produce the same pernicious secondary effects as the adult films displaying “specified anatomical areas” at issue in Renton. Other reported cases from the Circuit in which this litigation arose confirm the conclusion. See, e. g., United States v. Marren, 890 F. 2d 924, 926 (CA7 1989) (prostitution associated with nude dancing establishment); United States v. Doerr, 886 F. 2d 944, 949 (CA7 1989) (same). In light of Renton's recognition that legislation seeking to combat the secondary effects of adult entertainment need not await localized proof of those effects, the State of Indiana could reasonably conclude that forbidding nude entertainment of the type offered at the Kitty Kat Lounge and the Glen Theatre’s “bookstore” furthers its interest in preventing prostitution, sexual assault, and associated crimes. Given our recognition that “society’s interest in protecting this type of expression is of a wholly different, and lesser, magnitude than the interest in untrammeled political debate,” American Mini Theatres, supra, at 70, I do not believe that a State is required affirmatively to undertake to litigate this issue repeatedly in every *585case. The statute as applied to nudity of the sort at issue here therefore satisfies the second prong of O’Brien.2

The third O’Brien condition is that the governmental interest be “unrelated to the suppression of free expression,” 391 U. S., at 377, and, on its face, the governmental interest in combating prostitution and other criminal activity is not at all inherently related to expression. The dissent contends, however, that Indiana seeks to regulate nude dancing as its means of combating such secondary effects “because . . . creating or emphasizing [the] thoughts and ideas [expressed by nude dancing] in the minds of the spectators may lead to increased prostitution,” post, at 592, and that regulation of expressive conduct because of the fear that the expression will prove persuasive is inherently related to the suppression of free expression. Ibid.

The major premise of the dissent’s reasoning may be correct, but its minor premise describing the causal theory of Indiana’s regulatory justification is not. To say that pernicious secondary effects are associated with nude dancing establishments is not necessarily to say that such effects result from the persuasive effect of the expression inherent in nude dancing. It is to say, rather, only that the effects are correlated with the existence of establishments offering such dancing, without deciding what the precise causes of the correlation *586actually are. It is possible, for example, that the higher incidence of prostitution and sexual assault in the vicinity of adult entertainment locations results from the concentration of crowds of men predisposed to such activities, or from the simple viewing of nude bodies regardless of whether those bodies are engaged in expression or not. In neither case would the chain of causation run through the persuasive effect of the expressive component of nude dancing.

Because the State’s interest in banning nude dancing results from a simple correlation of such dancing with other evils, rather than from a relationship between the other evils and the expressive component of the dancing, the interest is unrelated to the suppression of free expression. Renton is again persuasive in support of this conclusion. In Renton, we held that an ordinance that regulated adult theaters because the presence of such theaters was correlated with secondary effects that the local government had an interest in regulating was content neutral (a determination similar to the “unrelated to the suppression of free expression” determination here, see Clark v. Community for Creative NonViolence, 468 U. S. 288, 298, and n. 8 (1984)) because it was “justified without reference to the content of the regulated speech.” 475 U. S., at 48 (emphasis in original). We reached this conclusion without need to decide whether the cause of the correlation might have been the persuasive effect of the adult films that were being regulated. Similarly here, the “secondary effects” justification means that enforcement of the Indiana statute against nude dancing is “justified -without reference to the content of the regulated [expression],” ibid. (emphasis omitted), which is sufficient, at least in the context of sexually explicit expression,3 to satisfy the third prong of the O’Brien test.

*587The fourth O’Brien condition, that the restriction be no greater than essential to further the governmental interest, requires little discussion. Pasties and a G-string moderate the expression to some degree, to be sure, but only to a degree. Dropping the final stitch is prohibited, but the limitation is minor when measured against the dancer’s remaining capacity and opportunity to express the erotic message. Nor, so far as we are told, is the dancer or her employer limited by anything short of obscenity laws from expressing an erotic message by articulate speech or representational means; a pornographic movie featuring one of respondents, for example, was playing nearby without any interference from the authorities at the time these cases arose.

Accordingly, I find O’Brien satisfied and concur in the judgment.

Justice White,

with whom Justice Marshall, Justice Blackmun, and Justice Stevens join, dissenting.

The first question presented to us in this case is whether nonobscene nude dancing performed as entertainment is expressive conduct protected by the First Amendment. The Court of Appeals held that it is, observing that our prior decisions permit no other conclusion. Not surprisingly, then, the plurality now concedes that “nude dancing of the kind sought to be performed here is expressive conduct within the outer perimeters of the First Amendment . . . Ante, at 566. This is no more than recognizing, as the Seventh Circuit observed, that dancing is an ancient art form and “inherently embodies the expression and communication of ideas and emotions.” Miller v. Civil City of South Bend, 904 F. 2d 1081, 1087 (1990) (en banc).1

*588Having arrived at the conclusion that nude dancing performed as entertainment enjoys First Amendment protection, the plurality states that it must “determine the level of protection to be afforded to the expressive conduct at issue, and must determine whether the Indiana statute is an impermissible infringement of that protected activity.” Ante, at 566. For guidance, the plurality turns to United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367 (1968), which held that expressive conduct could be narrowly regulated or forbidden in pursuit of an important or substantial governmental interest that is unrelated to the content of the expression. The plurality finds that the Indiana statute satisfies the O’Brien test in all respects.

The plurality acknowledges that it is impossible to discern the exact state interests which the Indiana Legislature had in mind when it enacted the Indiana statute, but the plurality nonetheless concludes that it is clear from the statute’s text and history that the law’s purpose is to protect “societal order and morality.” Ante, at 568. The plurality goes on to *589conclude that Indiana’s statute “was enacted as a general prohibition,” ante, at 568 (emphasis added), on people appearing in the nude among strangers in public places. The plurality then points to cases in which we upheld legislation based on the State’s police power, and ultimately concludes that the Indiana statute “furthers a substantial government interest in protecting order and morality.” Ante, at 569. The plurality also holds that the basis for banning nude dancing is unrelated to free expression and that it is narrowly drawn to serve the State’s interest.

The plurality’s analysis is erroneous in several respects. Both the plurality and Justice Scalia in his opinion concurring in the judgment overlook a fundamental and critical aspect of our cases upholding the States’ exercise of their police powers. None of the cases they rely upon, including O’Brien and Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186 (1986), involved anything less than truly general proscriptions on individual conduct. In O’Brien, for example, individuals were prohibited from destroying their draft cards at any time and in any place, even in completely private places such as the home. Likewise, in Boivers, the State prohibited sodomy, regardless of where the conduct might occur, including the home as was true in that case. The same is true of cases like Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources of Ore. v. Smith, 494 U. S. 872 (1990), which, though not applicable here because it did not involve any claim that the peyote users were engaged in expressive activity, recognized that the State’s interest in preventing the use of illegal drugs extends even into the home. By contrast, in this case Indiana does not suggest that its statute applies to, or could be applied to, nudity wherever it occurs, including the home. We do not understand the plurality or Justice Scalia to be suggesting that Indiana could constitutionally enact such an intrusive prohibition, nor do we think such a suggestion would be tenable in light of our decision in Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969), in which we held that States could not punish the *590mere possession of obscenity in the privacy of one’s own home.

We are told by the attorney general of Indiana that, in State v. Baysinger, 272 Ind. 236, 397 N. E. 2d 580 (1979), the Indiana Supreme Court held that the statute at issue here cannot and does not prohibit nudity as a part of some larger form of expression meriting protection when the communication of ideas is involved. Brief for Petitioners 25, 30-31; Reply Brief for Petitioners 9-11. Petitioners also state that the evils sought to be avoided by applying the statute in this case would not obtain in the case of theatrical productions, such as “Salome” or “Hair.” Id., at 11-12. Neither is there any evidence that the State has attempted to apply the statute to nudity in performances such as plays, ballets, or operas. “No arrests have ever been made for nudity as part of a play or ballet.” App. 19 (affidavit of Sgt. Timothy Corbett).

Thus, the Indiana statute is not a general prohibition of the type we have upheld in prior cases. As a result, the plurality and Justice Scalia’s simple references to the State’s general interest in promoting societal order and morality are not sufficient justification for a statute which concededly reaches a significant amount of protected expressive activity. Instead, in applying the O’Brien test, we are obligated to carefully examine the reasons the State has chosen to regulate this expressive conduct in a less than general statute. In other words, when the State enacts a law which draws a line between expressive conduct which is regulated and non-expressive conduct of the same type which is not-regulated, O’Brien places the burden on the State to justify the distinctions it has made. Closer inquiry as to the purpose of the statute is surely appropriate.

Legislators do not just randomly select certain conduct for proscription; they have reasons for doing so and those reasons illuminate the purpose of the law that is passed. Indeed, a law may have multiple purposes. The purpose of *591forbidding people to appear nude in parks, beaches, hot dog stands, and like public places is to protect others from offense. But that could not possibly be the purpose of preventing nude dancing in theaters and barrooms since the viewers are exclusively consenting adults who pay money to see these dances. The purpose of the proscription in these contexts is to protect the viewers from what the State believes is the harmful message that nude dancing communicates. This is why Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288 (1984), is of no help to the State: “In Clark . . . the damage to the parks was the same whether the sleepers were camping out for fun, were in fact homeless, or wished by sleeping in the park to make a symbolic statement on behalf of the homeless.” 904 F. 2d, at 1103 (Posner, J., concurring). That cannot be said in this case: The perceived damage to the public interest caused by appearing nude on the streets or in the parks, as I have said, is not what the State seeks to avoid in preventing nude dancing in theaters and taverns. There the perceived harm is the communicative aspect of the erotic dance. As the State now tells us, and as Justice Souter agrees, the State’s goal in applying what it describes as its “content neutral” statute to the nude dancing in this case is “deterrence of prostitution, sexual assaults, criminal activity, degradation of women, and other activities which break down family structure. ” Reply Brief for Petitioners 11. The attainment of these goals, however, depends on preventing an expressive activity.

The plurality nevertheless holds that the third requirement of the O’Brien test, that the governmental interest be unrelated to the suppression of free expression, is satisfied because in applying the statute to nude dancing, the State is not “proscribing nudity because of the erotic message conveyed by the dancers.” Ante, at 570. The plurality suggests that this is so because the State does not ban dancing that sends an erotic message; it is only nude erotic dancing that is forbidden. The perceived evil is not erotic dancing but pub-*592lie nudity, which may be prohibited despite any incidental impact on expressive activity. This analysis is transparently erroneous.

In arriving at its conclusion, the plurality concedes that nude dancing conveys an erotic message and concedes that the message would be muted if the dancers wore pasties and G-strings. Indeed, the emotional or erotic impact of the dance is intensified by the nudity of the performers. As Judge Posner argued in his thoughtful concurring opinion in the Court of Appeals, the nudity of the dancer is an integral part of the emotions and thoughts that a nude dancing performance evokes. 904 F. 2d, at 1090-1098. The sight of a fully clothed, or even a partially clothed, dancer generally will have a far different impact on a spectator than that of a nude dancer, even if the same dance is performed. The nudity is itself an expressive component of the dance, not merely incidental “conduct.” We have previously pointed out that “ ‘[n]udity alone’ does not place otherwise protected material outside the mantle of the First Amendment.” Schad v. Mt. Ephraim, 452 U. S. 61, 66 (1981).

This being the case, it cannot be that the statutory prohibition is unrelated to expressive conduct. Since the State permits the dancers to perform if they wear pasties and G-strings but forbids nude dancing, it is precisely because of the distinctive, expressive content of the nude dancing performances at issue in this case that the State seeks to apply the statutory prohibition. It is only because nude dancing performances may generate emotions and feelings of eroticism and sensuality among the spectators that the State seeks to regulate such expressive activity, apparently on the assumption that creating or emphasizing such thoughts and ideas in the minds of the spectators may lead to increased prostitution and the degradation of women. But generating thoughts, ideas, and emotions is the essence of communication. The nudity element of nude dancing performances can*593not be neatly pigeonholed as mere “conduct” independent of any expressive component of the dance.2

That fact dictates the level of First Amendment protection to be accorded the performances at issue here. In Texas v. Johnson, 491 U. S. 397, 411-412 (1989), the Court observed: “Whether Johnson’s treatment of the flag violated Texas law thus depended on the likely communicative impact of his expressive conduct. . . .We must therefore subject the State’s asserted interest in preserving the special symbolic character of the flag to ‘the most exacting scrutiny.’ Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S. [312], 321 [(1988)].” Content based restrictions “will be upheld only if narrowly drawn to accomplish a compelling governmental interest.” United States v. Grace, 461 U. S. 171, 177 (1983); Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U. S. 115, 126 (1989). Nothing could be clearer from our cases.

That the performances in the Kitty Kat Lounge may not be high art, to say the least, and may not appeal to the Court, is hardly an excuse for distorting and ignoring settled doctrine. The Court’s assessment of the artistic merits of nude dancing performances should not be the determining factor in deciding this case. In the words of Justice Harlan: “[I]t is largely because governmental officials cannot make principled deci*594sions in this area that the Constitution leaves matters of taste and style so largely to the individual.” Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15, 25 (1971). “[W]hile the entertainment afforded by a nude ballet at Lincoln Center to those who can pay the price may differ vastly in content (as viewed by judges) or in quality (as viewed by critics), it may not differ in substance from the dance viewed by the person who . . . wants some ‘entertainment’ with his beer or shot of rye.” Salem Inn, Inc. v. Frank, 501 F. 2d 18, 21, n. 3 (CA2 1974), aff’d in part sub nom. Doran v. Salem Inn, Inc., 422 U. S. 922 (1975).

The plurality and Justice Souter do not go beyond saying that the state interests asserted here are important and substantial. But even if there were compelling interests, the Indiana statute is not narrowly drawn. If the State is genuinely concerned with prostitution and associated evils, as Justice Souter seems to think, or the type of conduct. that was occurring in California v. LaRue, 409 U. S. 109 (1972), it can adopt restrictions that do not interfere with the expressiveness of nonobscene nude dancing performances. For instance, the State could perhaps require that, while performing, nude performers remain at all times a certain minimum distance from spectators, that nude entertainment be limited to certain hours, or even that establishments providing such entertainment be dispersed throughout the city. Cf. Renton v. Playtime Theatres, Inc., 475 U. S. 41 (1986). Likewise, the State clearly has the authority to criminalize prostitution and obscene behavior. Banning an entire category of expressive activity, however, generally does not satisfy the narrow tailoring requirement of strict First Amendment scrutiny. See Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U. S. 474, 485 (1988). Furthermore, if nude dancing in barrooms, as compared with other establishments, is the most worrisome problem, the State could invoke its Twenty-first Amendment powers and impose appropriate regulation. New York State Liquor Authority v. Bellanca, 452 U. S. 714 (1981) (per curiam); California v. LaRue, supra.

*595As I see it, our eases require us to affirm absent a compelling state interest supporting the statute. Neither the plurality nor the State suggest that the statute could withstand scrutiny under that standard.

Justice Scalia’s views are similar to those of the plurality and suffer from the same defects. The Justice asserts that a general law barring specified conduct does not implicate the First Amendment unless the purpose of the law is to suppress the expressive quality of the forbidden conduct, and that, absent such purpose, First Amendment protections are not triggered simply because the incidental effect of the law is to proscribe conduct that is unquestionably expressive. Cf. Community for Creative Non-Violence v. Watt, 227 U. S. App. D. C. 19, 703 F. 2d 586, 622-623 (1983) (Scalia, J., dissenting). The application of the Justice’s proposition to this case is simple to state: The statute at issue is a general law banning nude appearances in public places, including barrooms and theaters. There is no showing that the purpose of this general law was to regulate expressive conduct; hence, the First Amendment is irrelevant and nude dancing in theaters and barrooms may be forbidden, irrespective of the expressiveness of the dancing.

As I have pointed out, however, the premise for the Justice’s position — that the statute is a general law of the type our cases contemplate — is nonexistent in this case. Reference to Justice Scalia’s own hypothetical makes this clear. We agree with Justice Scalia that the Indiana statute would not permit 60,000 consenting Hoosiers to expose-themselves to each other in the Hoosier Dome. No one can doubt, however, that those same 60,000 Hoosiers would be perfectly free to drive to their respective homes all across Indiana and, once there, to parade around, cavort, and revel in the nude for hours in front of relatives and friends. It is difficult to see why the State’s interest in morality is any less in that situation, especially if, as Justice Scalia seems to suggest, nudity is inherently evil, but clearly the statute does *596not reach such activity. As we pointed out earlier, the State’s failure to enact a truly general proscription requires closer scrutiny of the reasons for the distinctions the State has drawn. See supra, at 590.

As explained previously, the purpose of applying the law to the nude dancing performances in respondents’ establishments is to prevent their customers from being exposed to the distinctive communicative aspects of nude dancing. That being the case, Justice Scalia’s observation is fully applicable here: “Where the government prohibits conduct precisely because of its communicative attributes, we hold the regulation unconstitutional.” Ante, at 577.

The O’Brien decision does not help Justice Scalia. Indeed, his position, like the plurality’s, would eviscerate the O’Brien test. Employment Div., Dept. of Human Resources of Ore. v. Smith, 494 U. S. 872 (1990), is likewise not on point. The Indiana law, as applied to nude dancing, targets the expressive activity itself; in Indiana nudity in a dancing performance is a crime because of the message such dancing communicates. In Smith, the use of drugs was not criminal because the use was part of or occurred within the course of an otherwise protected religious ceremony, but because a general law made it so and was supported by the same interests in the religious context as in others.

Accordingly, I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals, and dissent from this Court’s judgment.

15.31 Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union 15.31 Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union

521 U.S. 844
117 S.Ct. 2329 138 L.Ed.2d 874


Janet RENO, Attorney General of the United States, et al., Appellants

v.

AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES UNION et al.

No. 96-511.
Supreme Court of the United States
Argued March 19, 1997.
Decided June 26, 1997.
Syllabus *

Two provisions of the Communications Decency Act of 1996 (CDA or Act) seek to protect minors from harmful material on the Internet, an international network of interconnected computers that enables millions of people to communicate with one another in "cyberspace'' and to access vast amounts of information from around the world. Title 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a)(1)(B)(ii) (Supp.1997) criminalizes the "knowing'' transmission of "obscene or indecent'' messages to any recipient under 18 years of age. Section 223(d) prohibits the "knowin[g]'' sending or displaying to a person under 18 of any message "that, in context, depicts or describes, in terms patently offensive as measured by contemporary community standards, sexual or excretory activities or organs.'' Affirmative defenses are provided for those who take "good faith, . . . effective . . . actions'' to restrict access by minors to the prohibited communications, §223(e)(5)(A), and those who restrict such access by requiring certain designated forms of age proof, such as a verified credit card or an adult identification number, §223(e)(5)(B). A number of plaintiffs filed suit challenging the constitutionality of §§223(a)(1) and 223(d). After making extensive findings of fact, a three-judge District Court convened pursuant to the Act entered a preliminary injunction against enforcement of both challenged provisions. The court's judgment enjoins the Government from enforcing §223(a)(1)(B)'s prohibitions insofar as they relate to "indecent'' communications, but expressly preserves the Government's right to investigate and prosecute the obscenity or child pornography activities prohibited therein. The injunction against enforcement of §223(d) is unqualified because that section contains no separate reference to obscenity or child pornography. The Government appealed to this Court under the Act's special review provisions, arguing that the District Court erred in holding that the CDA violated both the First Amendment because it is overbroad and the Fifth Amendment because it is vague.

Held: The CDA's "indecent transmission'' and "patently offensive display'' provisions abridge "the freedom of speech'' protected by the First Amendment. Pp. ____-____.

(a) Although the CDA's vagueness is relevant to the First Amendment overbreadth inquiry, the judgment should be affirmed without reaching the Fifth Amendment issue. P. 2341.

(b) A close look at the precedents relied on by the Government-Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 20 L.Ed.2d 195; FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U.S. 726, 98 S.Ct. 3026, 57 L.Ed.2d 1073; and Renton v. Playtime Theatres, Inc., 475 U.S. 41, 106 S.Ct. 925, 89 L.Ed.2d 29-raises, rather than relieves, doubts about the CDA's constitutionality. The CDA differs from the various laws and orders upheld in those cases in many ways, including that it does not allow parents to consent to their children's use of restricted materials; is not limited to commercial transactions; fails to provide any definition of "indecent'' and omits any requirement that "patently offensive'' material lack socially redeeming value; neither limits its broad categorical prohibitions to particular times nor bases them on an evaluation by an agency familiar with the medium's unique characteristics; is punitive; applies to a medium that, unlike radio, receives full First Amendment protection; and cannot be properly analyzed as a form of time, place, and manner regulation because it is a content-based blanket restriction on speech. These precedents, then, do not require the Court to uphold the CDA and are fully consistent with the application of the most stringent review of its provisions. Pp. ____-____.

(c) The special factors recognized in some of the Court's cases as justifying regulation of the broadcast media-the history of extensive government regulation of broadcasting, see, e.g., Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 399-400, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 1811-1812, 23 L.Ed.2d 371; the scarcity of available frequencies at its inception, see, e.g., Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 512 U.S. 622, 637-638, 114 S.Ct. 2445, 2456-2457, 129 L.Ed.2d 497; and its "invasive'' nature, see Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U.S. 115, 128, 109 S.Ct. 2829, 2837-2838, 106 L.Ed.2d 93-are not present in cyberspace. Thus, these cases provide no basis for qualifying the level of First Amendment scrutiny that should be applied to the Internet. Pp. ____-____.

(d) Regardless of whether the CDA is so vague that it violates the Fifth Amendment, the many ambiguities concerning the scope of its coverage render it problematic for First Amendment purposes. For instance, its use of the undefined terms "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' will provoke uncertainty among speakers about how the two standards relate to each other and just what they mean. The vagueness of such a content-based regulation, see, e.g., Gentile v. State Bar of Nev., 501 U.S. 1030, 111 S.Ct. 2720, 115 L.Ed.2d 888, coupled with its increased deterrent effect as a criminal statute, see, e.g., Dombrowski v. Pfister, 380 U.S. 479, 85 S.Ct. 1116, 14 L.Ed.2d 22, raise special First Amendment concerns because of its obvious chilling effect on free speech. Contrary to the Government's argument, the CDA is not saved from vagueness by the fact that its "patently offensive'' standard repeats the second part of the three-prong obscenity test set forth in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 24, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 2614-2615, 37 L.Ed.2d 419. The second Miller prong reduces the inherent vagueness of its own "patently offensive'' term by requiring that the proscribed material be "specifically defined by the applicable state law.'' In addition, the CDA applies only to "sexual conduct,'' whereas, the CDA prohibition extends also to "excretory activities'' and "organs'' of both a sexual and excretory nature. Each of Miller's other two prongs also critically limits the uncertain sweep of the obscenity definition. Just because a definition including three limitations is not vague, it does not follow that one of those limitations, standing alone, is not vague. The CDA's vagueness undermines the likelihood that it has been carefully tailored to the congressional goal of protecting minors from potentially harmful materials. Pp. ____-____.

(e) The CDA lacks the precision that the First Amendment requires when a statute regulates the content of speech. Although the Government has an interest in protecting children from potentially harmful materials, see, e.g., Ginsberg, 390 U.S., at 639, 88 S.Ct., at 1280, the CDA pursues that interest by suppressing a large amount of speech that adults have a constitutional right to send and receive, see, e.g., Sable, supra, at 126, 109 S.Ct., at 2836-2837. Its breadth is wholly unprecedented. The CDA's burden on adult speech is unacceptable if less restrictive alternatives would be at least as effective in achieving the Act's legitimate purposes. See, e.g., Sable, 492 U.S., at 126, 109 S.Ct., at 2836-2837. The Government has not proved otherwise. On the other hand, the District Court found that currently available user-based software suggests that a reasonably effective method by which parents can prevent their children from accessing material which the parents believe is inappropriate will soon be widely available. Moreover, the arguments in this Court referred to possible alternatives such as requiring that indecent material be "tagged'' to facilitate parental control, making exceptions for messages with artistic or educational value, providing some tolerance for parental choice, and regulating some portions of the Internet differently than others. Particularly in the light of the absence of any detailed congressional findings, or even hearings addressing the CDA's special problems, the Court is persuaded that the CDA is not narrowly tailored. Pp. ____-____.

(f) The Government's three additional arguments for sustaining the CDA's affirmative prohibitions are rejected. First, the contention that the Act is constitutional because it leaves open ample "alternative channels'' of communication is unpersuasive because the CDA regulates speech on the basis of its content, so that a "time, place, and manner'' analysis is inapplicable. See, e.g., Consolidated Edison Co. of N.Y. v. Public Serv. Comm'n of N.Y., 447 U.S. 530, 536, 100 S.Ct. 2326, 2332-2333, 65 L.Ed.2d 319. Second, the assertion that the CDA's "knowledge'' and "specific person'' requirements significantly restrict its permissible application to communications to persons the sender knows to be under 18 is untenable, given that most Internet forums are open to all comers and that even the strongest reading of the "specific person'' requirement would confer broad powers of censorship, in the form of a "heckler's veto,'' upon any opponent of indecent speech. Finally, there is no textual support for the submission that material having scientific, educational, or other redeeming social value will necessarily fall outside the CDA's prohibitions. Pp. ____-____.

(g) The §223(e)(5) defenses do not constitute the sort of "narrow tailoring'' that would save the CDA. The Government's argument that transmitters may take protective "good faith actio[n]'' by "tagging'' their indecent communications in a way that would indicate their contents, thus permitting recipients to block their reception with appropriate software, is illusory, given the requirement that such action be "effective'': The proposed screening software does not currently exist, but, even if it did, there would be no way of knowing whether a potential recipient would actually block the encoded material. The Government also failed to prove that §223(b)(5)'s verification defense would significantly reduce the CDA's heavy burden on adult speech. Although such verification is actually being used by some commercial providers of sexually explicit material, the District Court's findings indicate that it is not economically feasible for most noncommercial speakers. Pp. ____-____.

(h) The Government's argument that this Court should preserve the CDA's constitutionality by honoring its severability clause, §608, and by construing nonseverable terms narrowly, is acceptable in only one respect. Because obscene speech may be banned totally, see Miller, supra, at 18, 93 S.Ct., at 2611-2612, and §223(a)'s restriction of "obscene'' material enjoys a textual manifestation separate from that for "indecent'' material, the Court can sever the term "or indecent'' from the statute, leaving the rest of §223(a) standing. Pp. ____-____.

(i) The Government's argument that its "significant'' interest in fostering the Internet's growth provides an independent basis for upholding the CDA's constitutionality is singularly unpersuasive. The dramatic expansion of this new forum contradicts the factual basis underlying this contention: that the unregulated availability of "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' material is driving people away from the Internet. P. 2351.

929 F.Supp. 824, affirmed.

STEVENS, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which SCALIA, KENNEDY, SOUTER, THOMAS, GINSBURG, and BREYER, JJ., joined. O'CONNOR, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment in part and dissenting in part, in which REHNQUIST, C. J., joined.

          Seth P. Waxman, Washington, DC, for appellants.

          Bruce J. Ennis, Washington, DC, for appellees.

           Justice STEVENS delivered the opinion of the Court.

          At issue is the constitutionality of two statutory provisions enacted to protect minors from "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' communications on the Internet. Notwithstanding the legitimacy and importance of the congressional goal of protecting children from harmful materials, we agree with the three-judge District Court that the statute abridges "the freedom of speech'' protected by the First Amendment. 1

I

          The District Court made extensive findings of fact, most of which were based on a detailed stipulation prepared by the parties. See 929 F.Supp. 824, 830-849 (E.D.Pa.1996). 2 The findings describe the character and the dimensions of the Internet, the availability of sexually explicit material in that medium, and the problems confronting age verification for recipients of Internet communications. Because those findings provide the underpinnings for the legal issues, we begin with a summary of the undisputed facts.

The Internet

          The Internet is an international network of interconnected computers. It is the outgrowth of what began in 1969 as a military program called "ARPANET,''3 which was designed to enable computers operated by the military, defense contractors, and universities conducting defense-related research to communicate with one another by redundant channels even if some portions of the network were damaged in a war. While the ARPANET no longer exists, it provided an example for the development of a number of civilian networks that, eventually linking with each other, now enable tens of millions of people to communicate with one another and to access vast amounts of information from around the world. The Internet is "a unique and wholly new medium of worldwide human communication.''4

          The Internet has experienced "extraordinary growth.''5 The number of "host'' computers-those that store information and relay communications-increased from about 300 in 1981 to approximately 9,400,000 by the time of the trial in 1996. Roughly 60% of these hosts are located in the United States. About 40 million people used the Internet at the time of trial, a number that is expected to mushroom to 200 million by 1999.

          Individuals can obtain access to the Internet from many different sources, generally hosts themselves or entities with a host affiliation. Most colleges and universities provide access for their students and faculty; many corporations provide their employees with access through an office network; many communities and local libraries provide free access; and an increasing number of storefront "computer coffee shops'' provide access for a small hourly fee. Several major national "online services'' such as America Online, CompuServe, the Microsoft Network, and Prodigy offer access to their own extensive proprietary networks as well as a link to the much larger resources of the Internet. These commercial online services had almost 12 million individual subscribers at the time of trial.

          Anyone with access to the Internet may take advantage of a wide variety of communication and information retrieval methods. These methods are constantly evolving and difficult to categorize precisely. But, as presently constituted, those most relevant to this case are electronic mail ("e-mail''), automatic mailing list services ("mail exploders,'' sometimes referred to as "listservs''), "newsgroups,'' "chat rooms,'' and the "World Wide Web.'' All of these methods can be used to transmit text; most can transmit sound, pictures, and moving video images. Taken together, these tools constitute a unique medium-known to its users as "cyberspace''-located in no particular geographical location but available to anyone, anywhere in the world, with access to the Internet.

          E-mail enables an individual to send an electronic message-generally akin to a note or letter-to another individual or to a group of addressees. The message is generally stored electronically, sometimes waiting for the recipient to check her "mailbox'' and sometimes making its receipt known through some type of prompt. A mail exploder is a sort of e-mail group. Subscribers can send messages to a common e-mail address, which then forwards the message to the group's other subscribers. Newsgroups also serve groups of regular participants, but these postings may be read by others as well. There are thousands of such groups, each serving to foster an exchange of information or opinion on a particular topic running the gamut from, say, the music of Wagner to Balkan politics to AIDS prevention to the Chicago Bulls. About 100,000 new messages are posted every day. In most newsgroups, postings are automatically purged at regular intervals. In addition to posting a message that can be read later, two or more individuals wishing to communicate more immediately can enter a chat room to engage in real-time dialogue-in other words, by typing messages to one another that appear almost immediately on the others' computer screens. The District Court found that at any given time "tens of thousands of users are engaging in conversations on a huge range of subjects.''6 It is "no exaggeration to conclude that the content on the Internet is as diverse as human thought.''7

          The best known category of communication over the Internet is the World Wide Web, which allows users to search for and retrieve information stored in remote computers, as well as, in some cases, to communicate back to designated sites. In concrete terms, the Web consists of a vast number of documents stored in different computers all over the world. Some of these documents are simply files containing information. However, more elaborate documents, commonly known as Web "pages,'' are also prevalent. Each has its own address-"rather like a telephone number.''8 Web pages frequently contain information and sometimes allow the viewer to communicate with the page's (or "site's'') author. They generally also contain "links'' to other documents created by that site's author or to other (generally) related sites. Typically, the links are either blue or underlined text-sometimes images.

          Navigating the Web is relatively straightforward. A user may either type the address of a known page or enter one or more keywords into a commercial "search engine'' in an effort to locate sites on a subject of interest. A particular Web page may contain the information sought by the "surfer,'' or, through its links, it may be an avenue to other documents located anywhere on the Internet. Users generally explore a given Web page, or move to another, by clicking a computer "mouse'' on one of the page's icons or links. Access to most Web pages is freely available, but some allow access only to those who have purchased the right from a commercial provider. The Web is thus comparable, from the readers' viewpoint, to both a vast library including millions of readily available and indexed publications and a sprawling mall offering goods and services.

          From the publishers' point of view, it constitutes a vast platform from which to address and hear from a world-wide audience of millions of readers, viewers, researchers, and buyers. Any person or organization with a computer connected to the Internet can "publish'' information. Publishers include government agencies, educational institutions, commercial entities, advocacy groups, and individuals. 9 Publishers may either make their material available to the entire pool of Internet users, or confine access to a selected group, such as those willing to pay for the privilege. "No single organization controls any membership in the Web, nor is there any centralized point from which individual Web sites or services can be blocked from the Web.''10

Sexually Explicit Material

          Sexually explicit material on the Internet includes text, pictures, and chat and "extends from the modestly titillating to the hardest-core.''11 These files are created, named, and posted in the same manner as material that is not sexually explicit, and may be accessed either deliberately or unintentionally during the course of an imprecise search. "Once a provider posts its content on the Internet, it cannot prevent that content from entering any community.''12 Thus, for example,

          "when the UCR/California Museum of Photography posts to its Web site nudes by Edward Weston and Robert Mapplethorpe to announce that its new exhibit will travel to Baltimore and New York City, those images are available not only in Los Angeles, Baltimore, and New York City, but also in Cincinnati, Mobile, or Beijing-wherever Internet users live. Similarly, the safer sex instructions that Critical Path posts to its Web site, written in street language so that the teenage receiver can understand them, are available not just in Philadelphia, but also in Provo and Prague.''13

Some of the communications over the Internet that originate in foreign countries are also sexually explicit. 14

          Though such material is widely available, users seldom encounter such content accidentally. "A document's title or a description of the document will usually appear before the document itself . . . and in many cases the user will receive detailed information about a site's content before he or she need take the step to access the document. Almost all sexually explicit images are preceded by warnings as to the content.''15 For that reason, the "odds are slim'' that a user would enter a sexually explicit site by accident. 16 Unlike communications received by radio or television, "the receipt of information on the Internet requires a series of affirmative steps more deliberate and directed than merely turning a dial. A child requires some sophistication and some ability to read to retrieve material and thereby to use the Internet unattended.''17

          Systems have been developed to help parents control the material that may be available on a home computer with Internet access. A system may either limit a computer's access to an approved list of sources that have been identified as containing no adult material, it may block designated inappropriate sites, or it may attempt to block messages containing identifiable objectionable features. "Although parental control software currently can screen for certain suggestive words or for known sexually explicit sites, it cannot now screen for sexually explicit images.''18 Nevertheless, the evidence indicates that "a reasonably effective method by which parents can prevent their children from accessing sexually explicit and other material which parents may believe is inappropriate for their children will soon be available.''19

Age Verification

          The problem of age verification differs for different uses of the Internet. The District Court categorically determined that there "is no effective way to determine the identity or the age of a user who is accessing material through e-mail, mail exploders, newsgroups or chat rooms.''20 The Government offered no evidence that there was a reliable way to screen recipients and participants in such fora for age. Moreover, even if it were technologically feasible to block minors' access to newsgroups and chat rooms containing discussions of art, politics or other subjects that potentially elicit "indecent'' or "patently offensive'' contributions, it would not be possible to block their access to that material and "still allow them access to the remaining content, even if the overwhelming majority of that content was not indecent.''21

          Technology exists by which an operator of a Web site may condition access on the verification of requested information such as a credit card number or an adult password. Credit card verification is only feasible, however, either in connection with a commercial transaction in which the card is used, or by payment to a verification agency. Using credit card possession as a surrogate for proof of age would impose costs on non-commercial Web sites that would require many of them to shut down. For that reason, at the time of the trial, credit card verification was "effectively unavailable to a substantial number of Internet content providers.'' Id., at 846 (finding 102). Moreover, the imposition of such a requirement "would completely bar adults who do not have a credit card and lack the resources to obtain one from accessing any blocked material.''22

          Commercial pornographic sites that charge their users for access have assigned them passwords as a method of age verification. The record does not contain any evidence concerning the reliability of these technologies. Even if passwords are effective for commercial purveyors of indecent material, the District Court found that an adult password requirement would impose significant burdens on noncommercial sites, both because they would discourage users from accessing their sites and because the cost of creating and maintaining such screening systems would be "beyond their reach.''23

          In sum, the District Court found:

          "Even if credit card verification or adult password verification were implemented, the Government presented no testimony as to how such systems could ensure that the user of the password or credit card is in fact over 18. The burdens imposed by credit card verification and adult password verification systems make them effectively unavailable to a substantial number of Internet content providers.'' Ibid. (finding 107).

II

          The Telecommunications Act of 1996, Pub.L. 104-104, 110 Stat. 56, was an unusually important legislative enactment. As stated on the first of its 103 pages, its primary purpose was to reduce regulation and encourage "the rapid deployment of new telecommunications technologies.'' The major components of the statute have nothing to do with the Internet; they were designed to promote competition in the local telephone service market, the multichannel video market, and the market for over-the-air broadcasting. The Act includes seven Titles, six of which are the product of extensive committee hearings and the subject of discussion in Reports prepared by Committees of the Senate and the House of Representatives. By contrast, Title V-known as the "Communications Decency Act of 1996'' (CDA)-contains provisions that were either added in executive committee after the hearings were concluded or as amendments offered during floor debate on the legislation. An amendment offered in the Senate was the source of the two statutory provisions challenged in this case. 24 They are informally described as the "indecent transmission'' provision and the "patently offensive display'' provision. 25

          The first, 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a) (Supp.1997), prohibits the knowing transmission of obscene or indecent messages to any recipient under 18 years of age. It provides in pertinent part:

          " (a) Whoever-

          " (1) in interstate or foreign communications-

.....

          " (B) by means of a telecommunications device knowingly-

          " (i) makes, creates, or solicits, and

          " (ii) initiates the transmission of,

          "any comment, request, suggestion, proposal, image, or other communication which is obscene or indecent, knowing that the recipient of the communication is under 18 years of age, regardless of whether the maker of such communication placed the call or initiated the communication;

.....

          " (2) knowingly permits any telecommunications facility under his control to be used for any activity prohibited by paragraph (1) with the intent that it be used for such activity,

          "shall be fined under Title 18, or imprisoned not more than two years, or both.''

          The second provision, §223(d), prohibits the knowing sending or displaying of patently offensive messages in a manner that is available to a person under 18 years of age. It provides:

          " (d) Whoever-

          " (1) in interstate or foreign communications knowingly-

            " (A) uses an interactive computer service to send to a specific person or persons under 18 years of age, or

          " (B) uses any interactive computer service to display in a manner available to a person under 18 years of age,

          "any comment, request, suggestion, proposal, image, or other communication that, in context, depicts or describes, in terms patently offensive as measured by contemporary community standards, sexual or excretory activities or organs, regardless of whether the user of such service placed the call or initiated the communication; or

          " (2) knowingly permits any telecommunications facility under such person's control to be used for an activity prohibited by paragraph (1) with the intent that it be used for such activity,

          "shall be fined under Title 18, or imprisoned not more than two years, or both.''

          The breadth of these prohibitions is qualified by two affirmative defenses. See §223(e)(5). 26 One covers those who take "good faith, reasonable, effective, and appropriate actions'' to restrict access by minors to the prohibited communications. §223(e)(5)(A). The other covers those who restrict access to covered material by requiring certain designated forms of age proof, such as a verified credit card or an adult identification number or code. §223(e)(5)(B).

III

          On February 8, 1996, immediately after the President signed the statute, 20 plaintiffs27 filed suit against the Attorney General of the United States and the Department of Justice challenging the constitutionality of §§223(a)(1) and 223(d). A week later, based on his conclusion that the term "indecent'' was too vague to provide the basis for a criminal prosecution, District Judge Buckwalter entered a temporary restraining order against enforcement of §223(a)(1)(B)(ii) insofar as it applies to indecent communications. A second suit was then filed by 27 additional plaintiffs, 28 the two cases were consolidated, and a three-judge District Court was convened pursuant to §561 of the Act. 29 After an evidentiary hearing, that Court entered a preliminary injunction against enforcement of both of the challenged provisions. Each of the three judges wrote a separate opinion, but their judgment was unanimous.

          Chief Judge Sloviter doubted the strength of the Government's interest in regulating "the vast range of online material covered or potentially covered by the CDA,'' but acknowledged that the interest was "compelling'' with respect to some of that material. 929 F.Supp., at 853. She concluded, nonetheless, that the statute "sweeps more broadly than necessary and thereby chills the expression of adults'' and that the terms "patently offensive'' and "indecent'' were "inherently vague.'' Id., at 854. She also determined that the affirmative defenses were not "technologically or economically feasible for most providers,'' specifically considering and rejecting an argument that providers could avoid liability by "tagging'' their material in a manner that would allow potential readers to screen out unwanted transmissions. Id., at 856. Chief Judge Sloviter also rejected the Government's suggestion that the scope of the statute could be narrowed by construing it to apply only to commercial pornographers. Id., at 854-855.

          Judge Buckwalter concluded that the word "indecent'' in §223(a)(1)(B) and the terms "patently offensive'' and "in context'' in §223(d)(1) were so vague that criminal enforcement of either section would violate the "fundamental constitutional principle'' of "simple fairness,'' id., at 861, and the specific protections of the First and Fifth Amendments, id., at 858. He found no statutory basis for the Government's argument that the challenged provisions would be applied only to "pornographic'' materials, noting that, unlike obscenity, "indecency has not been defined to exclude works of serious literary, artistic, political or scientific value.'' Id., at 863. Moreover, the Government's claim that the work must be considered patently offensive "in context'' was itself vague because the relevant context might "refer to, among other things, the nature of the communication as a whole, the time of day it was conveyed, the medium used, the identity of the speaker, or whether or not it is accompanied by appropriate warnings.'' Id., at 864. He believed that the unique nature of the Internet aggravated the vagueness of the statute. Id., at 865, n. 9.

          Judge Dalzell's review of "the special attributes of Internet communication'' disclosed by the evidence convinced him that the First Amendment denies Congress the power to regulate the content of protected speech on the Internet. Id., at 867. His opinion explained at length why he believed the Act would abridge significant protected speech, particularly by noncommercial speakers, while " [p]erversely, commercial pornographers would remain relatively unaffected.'' Id., at 879. He construed our cases as requiring a "medium-specific'' approach to the analysis of the regulation of mass communication, id., at 873, and concluded that the Internet-as "the most participatory form of mass speech yet developed,'' id., at 883-is entitled to "the highest protection from governmental intrusion,'' ibid. 30

          The judgment of the District Court enjoins the Government from enforcing the prohibitions in §223(a)(1)(B) insofar as they relate to "indecent'' communications, but expressly preserves the Government's right to investigate and prosecute the obscenity or child pornography activities prohibited therein. The injunction against enforcement of §§223(d)(1) and (2) is unqualified because those provisions contain no separate reference to obscenity or child pornography.

          The Government appealed under the Act's special review provisions, §561, 110 Stat. 142-143, and we noted probable jurisdiction, see 519 U.S. ----, 117 S.Ct. 554, 136 L.Ed.2d 436 (1996). In its appeal, the Government argues that the District Court erred in holding that the CDA violated both the First Amendment because it is overbroad and the Fifth Amendment because it is vague. While we discuss the vagueness of the CDA because of its relevance to the First Amendment overbreadth inquiry, we conclude that the judgment should be affirmed without reaching the Fifth Amendment issue. We begin our analysis by reviewing the principal authorities on which the Government relies. Then, after describing the overbreadth of the CDA, we consider the Government's specific contentions, including its submission that we save portions of the statute either by severance or by fashioning judicial limitations on the scope of its coverage.

IV

          In arguing for reversal, the Government contends that the CDA is plainly constitutional under three of our prior decisions: (1) Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 20 L.Ed.2d 195 (1968); (2) FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U.S. 726, 98 S.Ct. 3026, 57 L.Ed.2d 1073 (1978); and (3) Renton v. Playtime Theatres, Inc., 475 U.S. 41, 106 S.Ct. 925, 89 L.Ed.2d 29 (1986). A close look at these cases, however, raises-rather than relieves-doubts concerning the constitutionality of the CDA.

          In Ginsberg, we upheld the constitutionality of a New York statute that prohibited selling to minors under 17 years of age material that was considered obscene as to them even if not obscene as to adults. We rejected the defendant's broad submission that "the scope of the constitutional freedom of expression secured to a citizen to read or see material concerned with sex cannot be made to depend on whether the citizen is an adult or a minor.'' 390 U.S., at 636, 88 S.Ct., at 1279. In rejecting that contention, we relied not only on the State's independent interest in the well-being of its youth, but also on our consistent recognition of the principle that "the parents' claim to authority in their own household to direct the rearing of their children is basic in the structure of our society.''31

          In four important respects, the statute upheld in Ginsberg was narrower than the CDA. First, we noted in Ginsberg that "the prohibition against sales to minors does not bar parents who so desire from purchasing the magazines for their children.'' Id., at 639, 88 S.Ct., at 1280. Under the CDA, by contrast, neither the parents' consent-nor even their participation-in the communication would avoid the application of the statute. 32 Second, the New York statute applied only to commercial transactions, id., at 647, 88 S.Ct., at 1284-1285, whereas the CDA contains no such limitation. Third, the New York statute cabined its definition of material that is harmful to minors with the requirement that it be "utterly without redeeming social importance for minors.'' Id., at 646, 88 S.Ct., at 1284. The CDA fails to provide us with any definition of the term "indecent'' as used in §223(a)(1) and, importantly, omits any requirement that the "patently offensive'' material covered by §223(d) lack serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value. Fourth, the New York statute defined a minor as a person under the age of 17, whereas the CDA, in applying to all those under 18 years, includes an additional year of those nearest majority.

          In Pacifica, we upheld a declaratory order of the Federal Communications Commission, holding that the broadcast of a recording of a 12-minute monologue entitled "Filthy Words'' that had previously been delivered to a live audience "could have been the subject of administrative sanctions.'' 438 U.S., at 730, 98 S.Ct., at 3030 (internal quotations omitted). The Commission had found that the repetitive use of certain words referring to excretory or sexual activities or organs "in an afternoon broadcast when children are in the audience was patently offensive'' and concluded that the monologue was indecent "as broadcast.'' Id., at 735, 98 S.Ct., at 3033. The respondent did not quarrel with the finding that the afternoon broadcast was patently offensive, but contended that it was not "indecent'' within the meaning of the relevant statutes because it contained no prurient appeal. After rejecting respondent's statutory arguments, we confronted its two constitutional arguments: (1) that the Commission's construction of its authority to ban indecent speech was so broad that its order had to be set aside even if the broadcast at issue was unprotected; and (2) that since the recording was not obscene, the First Amendment forbade any abridgement of the right to broadcast it on the radio.

          In the portion of the lead opinion not joined by Justices Powell and Blackmun, the plurality stated that the First Amendment does not prohibit all governmental regulation that depends on the content of speech. Id., at 742-743, 98 S.Ct., at 3036-3037. Accordingly, the availability of constitutional protection for a vulgar and offensive monologue that was not obscene depended on the context of the broadcast. Id., at 744-748, 98 S.Ct., at 3037-3040. Relying on the premise that "of all forms of communication'' broadcasting had received the most limited First Amendment protection, id., at 748-749, 98 S.Ct., at 3039-3040, the Court concluded that the ease with which children may obtain access to broadcasts, "coupled with the concerns recognized in Ginsberg, '' justified special treatment of indecent broadcasting. Id., at 749-750, 98 S.Ct., at 3040-3041.

          As with the New York statute at issue in Ginsberg, there are significant differences between the order upheld in Pacifica and the CDA. First, the order in Pacifica, issued by an agency that had been regulating radio stations for decades, targeted a specific broadcast that represented a rather dramatic departure from traditional program content in order to designate when-rather than whether-it would be permissible to air such a program in that particular medium. The CDA's broad categorical prohibitions are not limited to particular times and are not dependent on any evaluation by an agency familiar with the unique characteristics of the Internet. Second, unlike the CDA, the Commission's declaratory order was not punitive; we expressly refused to decide whether the indecent broadcast "would justify a criminal prosecution.'' Id., at 750, 98 S.Ct., at 3041. Finally, the Commission's order applied to a medium which as a matter of history had "received the most limited First Amendment protection,'' id., at 748, 98 S.Ct., at 3040, in large part because warnings could not adequately protect the listener from unexpected program content. The Internet, however, has no comparable history. Moreover, the District Court found that the risk of encountering indecent material by accident is remote because a series of affirmative steps is required to access specific material.

          In Renton, we upheld a zoning ordinance that kept adult movie theatres out of residential neighborhoods. The ordinance was aimed, not at the content of the films shown in the theaters, but rather at the "secondary effects''-such as crime and deteriorating property values-that these theaters fostered: ""It is th[e] secondary effect which these zoning ordinances attempt to avoid, not the dissemination of "offensive'' speech.''' 475 U.S., at 49, 106 S.Ct., at 930 (quoting Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U.S. 50, 71, n. 34, 96 S.Ct. 2440, 2453, n. 34, 49 L.Ed.2d 310 (1976)). According to the Government, the CDA is constitutional because it constitutes a sort of "cyberzoning'' on the Internet. But the CDA applies broadly to the entire universe of cyberspace. And the purpose of the CDA is to protect children from the primary effects of "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' speech, rather than any "secondary'' effect of such speech. Thus, the CDA is a content-based blanket restriction on speech, and, as such, cannot be "properly analyzed as a form of time, place, and manner regulation.'' 475 U.S., at 46, 106 S.Ct., at 928. See also Boos v. Barry, 485 U.S. 312, 321, 108 S.Ct. 1157, 1163, 99 L.Ed.2d 333 (1988) ("Regulations that focus on the direct impact of speech on its audience'' are not properly analyzed under Renton); Forsyth County v. Nationalist Movement, 505 U.S. 123, 134, 112 S.Ct. 2395, 2403, 120 L.Ed.2d 101 (1992) ("Listeners' reaction to speech is not a content-neutral basis for regulation'').

          These precedents, then, surely do not require us to uphold the CDA and are fully consistent with the application of the most stringent review of its provisions.

V

          In Southeastern Promotions, Ltd. v. Conrad, 420 U.S. 546, 557, 95 S.Ct. 1239, 1245-1246, 43 L.Ed.2d 448 (1975), we observed that " [e]ach medium of expression . . . may present its own problems.'' Thus, some of our cases have recognized special justifications for regulation of the broadcast media that are not applicable to other speakers, see Red Lion Broadcasting Co. v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367, 89 S.Ct. 1794, 23 L.Ed.2d 371 (1969); FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U.S. 726, 98 S.Ct. 3026, 57 L.Ed.2d 1073 (1978). In these cases, the Court relied on the history of extensive government regulation of the broadcast medium, see, e.g., Red Lion, 395 U.S., at 399-400, 89 S.Ct., at 1811-1812; the scarcity of available frequencies at its inception, see, e.g., Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 512 U.S. 622, 637-638, 114 S.Ct. 2445, 2456-2457, 129 L.Ed.2d 497 (1994); and its "invasive'' nature, see Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U.S. 115, 128, 109 S.Ct. 2829, 2837-2838, 106 L.Ed.2d 93 (1989).

          Those factors are not present in cyberspace. Neither before nor after the enactment of the CDA have the vast democratic fora of the Internet been subject to the type of government supervision and regulation that has attended the broadcast industry. 33 Moreover, the Internet is not as "invasive'' as radio or television. The District Court specifically found that " [c]ommunications over the Internet do not "invade' an individual's home or appear on one's computer screen unbidden. Users seldom encounter content "by accident.''' 929 F.Supp., at 844 (finding 88). It also found that " [a]lmost all sexually explicit images are preceded by warnings as to the content,'' and cited testimony that ""odds are slim' that a user would come across a sexually explicit sight by accident.'' Ibid.

          We distinguished Pacifica in Sable, 492 U.S., at 128, 109 S.Ct., at 2837-2838, on just this basis. In Sable, a company engaged in the business of offering sexually oriented prerecorded telephone messages (popularly known as "dial-a-porn'') challenged the constitutionality of an amendment to the Communications Act that imposed a blanket prohibition on indecent as well as obscene interstate commercial telephone messages. We held that the statute was constitutional insofar as it applied to obscene messages but invalid as applied to indecent messages. In attempting to justify the complete ban and criminalization of indecent commercial telephone messages, the Government relied on Pacifica, arguing that the ban was necessary to prevent children from gaining access to such messages. We agreed that "there is a compelling interest in protecting the physical and psychological well-being of minors'' which extended to shielding them from indecent messages that are not obscene by adult standards, 492 U.S., at 126, 109 S.Ct., at 2836-2837, but distinguished our "emphatically narrow holding'' in Pacifica because it did not involve a complete ban and because it involved a different medium of communication, id., at 127, 109 S.Ct., at 2837. We explained that "the dial-it medium requires the listener to take affirmative steps to receive the communication.'' Id., at 127-128, 109 S.Ct., at 2837. "Placing a telephone call,'' we continued, "is not the same as turning on a radio and being taken by surprise by an indecent message.'' Id., at 128, 109 S.Ct., at 2837.

          Finally, unlike the conditions that prevailed when Congress first authorized regulation of the broadcast spectrum, the Internet can hardly be considered a "scarce'' expressive commodity. It provides relatively unlimited, low-cost capacity for communication of all kinds. The Government estimates that " [a]s many as 40 million people use the Internet today, and that figure is expected to grow to 200 million by 1999.''34 This dynamic, multifaceted category of communication includes not only traditional print and news services, but also audio, video, and still images, as well as interactive, real-time dialogue. Through the use of chat rooms, any person with a phone line can become a town crier with a voice that resonates farther than it could from any soapbox. Through the use of Web pages, mail exploders, and newsgroups, the same individual can become a pamphleteer. As the District Court found, "the content on the Internet is as diverse as human thought.'' 929 F.Supp., at 842 (finding 74). We agree with its conclusion that our cases provide no basis for qualifying the level of First Amendment scrutiny that should be applied to this medium.

VI

          Regardless of whether the CDA is so vague that it violates the Fifth Amendment, the many ambiguities concerning the scope of its coverage render it problematic for purposes of the First Amendment. For instance, each of the two parts of the CDA uses a different linguistic form. The first uses the word "indecent,'' 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a) (Supp.1997), while the second speaks of material that "in context, depicts or describes, in terms patently offensive as measured by contemporary community standards, sexual or excretory activities or organs,'' §223(d). Given the absence of a definition of either term, 35 this difference in language will provoke uncertainty among speakers about how the two standards relate to each other36 and just what they mean. 37 Could a speaker confidently assume that a serious discussion about birth control practices, homosexuality, the First Amendment issues raised by the Appendix to our Pacifica opinion, or the consequences of prison rape would not violate the CDA? This uncertainty undermines the likelihood that the CDA has been carefully tailored to the congressional goal of protecting minors from potentially harmful materials.

          The vagueness of the CDA is a matter of special concern for two reasons. First, the CDA is a content-based regulation of speech. The vagueness of such a regulation raises special First Amendment concerns because of its obvious chilling effect on free speech. See, e.g., Gentile v. State Bar of Nev., 501 U.S. 1030, 1048-1051, 111 S.Ct. 2720, 2731-2733, 115 L.Ed.2d 888 (1991). Second, the CDA is a criminal statute. In addition to the opprobrium and stigma of a criminal conviction, the CDA threatens violators with penalties including up to two years in prison for each act of violation. The severity of criminal sanctions may well cause speakers to remain silent rather than communicate even arguably unlawful words, ideas, and images. See, e.g., Dombrowski v. Pfister, 380 U.S. 479, 494, 85 S.Ct. 1116, 1125, 14 L.Ed.2d 22 (1965). As a practical matter, this increased deterrent effect, coupled with the "risk of discriminatory enforcement'' of vague regulations, poses greater First Amendment concerns than those implicated by the civil regulation reviewed in Denver Area Ed. Telecommunications Consortium, Inc. v. FCC, 518 U.S. ----, 116 S.Ct. 2374, 135 L.Ed.2d 888 (1996).

          The Government argues that the statute is no more vague than the obscenity standard this Court established in Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15, 93 S.Ct. 2607, 37 L.Ed.2d 419 (1973). But that is not so. In Miller, this Court reviewed a criminal conviction against a commercial vendor who mailed brochures containing pictures of sexually explicit activities to individuals who had not requested such materials. Id., at 18, 93 S.Ct., at 2611-2612. Having struggled for some time to establish a definition of obscenity, we set forth in Miller the test for obscenity that controls to this day:

          " (a) whether the average person, applying contemporary community standards would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest; (b) whether the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and (c) whether the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value.'' Id., at 24, 93 S.Ct., at 2615 (internal quotation marks and citations omitted).

Because the CDA's "patently offensive'' standard (and, we assume arguendo, its synonymous "indecent'' standard) is one part of the three-prong Miller test, the Government reasons, it cannot be unconstitutionally vague.

          The Government's assertion is incorrect as a matter of fact. The second prong of the Miller test-the purportedly analogous standard-contains a critical requirement that is omitted from the CDA: that the proscribed material be "specifically defined by the applicable state law.'' This requirement reduces the vagueness inherent in the open-ended term "patently offensive'' as used in the CDA. Moreover, the Miller definition is limited to "sexual conduct,'' whereas the CDA extends also to include (1) "excretory activities'' as well as (2) "organs'' of both a sexual and excretory nature.

          The Government's reasoning is also flawed. Just because a definition including three limitations is not vague, it does not follow that one of those limitations, standing by itself, is not vague. 38 Each of Miller's additional two prongs- (1) that, taken as a whole, the material appeal to the "prurient'' interest, and (2) that it "lac[k] serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value''-critically limits the uncertain sweep of the obscenity definition. The second requirement is particularly important because, unlike the "patently offensive'' and "prurient interest'' criteria, it is not judged by contemporary community standards. See Pope v. Illinois, 481 U.S. 497, 500, 107 S.Ct. 1918, 1920-1921, 95 L.Ed.2d 439 (1987). This "societal value'' requirement, absent in the CDA, allows appellate courts to impose some limitations and regularity on the definition by setting, as a matter of law, a national floor for socially redeeming value. The Government's contention that courts will be able to give such legal limitations to the CDA's standards is belied by Miller's own rationale for having juries determine whether material is "patently offensive'' according to community standards: that such questions are essentially ones of fact. 39

          In contrast to Miller and our other previous cases, the CDA thus presents a greater threat of censoring speech that, in fact, falls outside the statute's scope. Given the vague contours of the coverage of the statute, it unquestionably silences some speakers whose messages would be entitled to constitutional protection. That danger provides further reason for insisting that the statute not be overly broad. The CDA's burden on protected speech cannot be justified if it could be avoided by a more carefully drafted statute.

VII

          We are persuaded that the CDA lacks the precision that the First Amendment requires when a statute regulates the content of speech. In order to deny minors access to potentially harmful speech, the CDA effectively suppresses a large amount of speech that adults have a constitutional right to receive and to address to one another. That burden on adult speech is unacceptable if less restrictive alternatives would be at least as effective in achieving the legitimate purpose that the statute was enacted to serve.

          In evaluating the free speech rights of adults, we have made it perfectly clear that " [s]exual expression which is indecent but not obscene is protected by the First Amendment.'' Sable, 492 U.S., at 126, 109 S.Ct., at 2836. See also Carey v. Population Services Int'l, 431 U.S. 678, 701, 97 S.Ct. 2010, 2024, 52 L.Ed.2d 675 (1977) (" [W]here obscenity is not involved, we have consistently held that the fact that protected speech may be offensive to some does not justify its suppression''). Indeed, Pacifica itself admonished that "the fact that society may find speech offensive is not a sufficient reason for suppressing it.'' 438 U.S., at 745, 98 S.Ct., at 3038.

          It is true that we have repeatedly recognized the governmental interest in protecting children from harmful materials. See Ginsberg, 390 U.S., at 639, 88 S.Ct., at 1280; Pacifica, 438 U.S., at 749, 98 S.Ct., at 3040. But that interest does not justify an unnecessarily broad suppression of speech addressed to adults. As we have explained, the Government may not "reduc[e] the adult population . . . to . . . only what is fit for children.'' Denver, 518 U.S., at ----, 116 S.Ct., at 2393 (internal quotation marks omitted) (quoting Sable, 492 U.S., at 128, 109 S.Ct., at 2837-2838). 40 " [R]egardless of the strength of the government's interest'' in protecting children, " [t]he level of discourse reaching a mailbox simply cannot be limited to that which would be suitable for a sandbox.'' Bolger v. Youngs Drug Products Corp., 463 U.S. 60, 74-75, 103 S.Ct. 2875, 2884-2885, 77 L.Ed.2d 469 (1983).

          The District Court was correct to conclude that the CDA effectively resembles the ban on "dial-a-porn'' invalidated in Sable. 929 F.Supp., at 854. In Sable, 492 U.S., at 129, 109 S.Ct., at 2838, this Court rejected the argument that we should defer to the congressional judgment that nothing less than a total ban would be effective in preventing enterprising youngsters from gaining access to indecent communications. Sable thus made clear that the mere fact that a statutory regulation of speech was enacted for the important purpose of protecting children from exposure to sexually explicit material does not foreclose inquiry into its validity. 41 As we pointed out last Term, that inquiry embodies an "over-arching commitment'' to make sure that Congress has designed its statute to accomplish its purpose "without imposing an unnecessarily great restriction on speech.'' Denver, 518 U.S., at ----, 116 S.Ct., at 2385.

          In arguing that the CDA does not so diminish adult communication, the Government relies on the incorrect factual premise that prohibiting a transmission whenever it is known that one of its recipients is a minor would not interfere with adult-to-adult communication. The findings of the District Court make clear that this premise is untenable. Given the size of the potential audience for most messages, in the absence of a viable age verification process, the sender must be charged with knowing that one or more minors will likely view it. Knowledge that, for instance, one or more members of a 100-person chat group will be minor-and therefore that it would be a crime to send the group an indecent message-would surely burden communication among adults.42

          The District Court found that at the time of trial existing technology did not include any effective method for a sender to prevent minors from obtaining access to its communications on the Internet without also denying access to adults. The Court found no effective way to determine the age of a user who is accessing material through e-mail, mail exploders, newsgroups, or chat rooms. 929 F.Supp., at 845 (findings 90-94). As a practical matter, the Court also found that it would be prohibitively expensive for noncommercial-as well as some commercial-speakers who have Web sites to verify that their users are adults. Id., at 845-848 (findings 95-116). 43 These limitations must inevitably curtail a significant amount of adult communication on the Internet. By contrast, the District Court found that " [d]espite its limitations, currently available user-based software suggests that a reasonably effective method by which parents can prevent their children from accessing sexually explicit and other material which parents may believe is inappropriate for their children will soon be widely available.'' Id., at 842 (finding 73) (emphases added).

          The breadth of the CDA's coverage is wholly unprecedented. Unlike the regulations upheld in Ginsberg and Pacifica, the scope of the CDA is not limited to commercial speech or commercial entities. Its open-ended prohibitions embrace all nonprofit entities and individuals posting indecent messages or displaying them on their own computers in the presence of minors. The general, undefined terms "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' cover large amounts of nonpornographic material with serious educational or other value. 44 Moreover, the "community standards'' criterion as applied to the Internet means that any communication available to a nation-wide audience will be judged by the standards of the community most likely to be offended by the message. 45 The regulated subject matter includes any of the seven "dirty words'' used in the Pacifica monologue, the use of which the Government's expert acknowledged could constitute a felony. See Olsen Test., Tr. Vol. V, 53:16-54:10. It may also extend to discussions about prison rape or safe sexual practices, artistic images that include nude subjects, and arguably the card catalogue of the Carnegie Library.

          For the purposes of our decision, we need neither accept nor reject the Government's submission that the First Amendment does not forbid a blanket prohibition on all "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' messages communicated to a 17-year old-no matter how much value the message may contain and regardless of parental approval. It is at least clear that the strength of the Government's interest in protecting minors is not equally strong throughout the coverage of this broad statute. Under the CDA, a parent allowing her 17-year-old to use the family computer to obtain information on the Internet that she, in her parental judgment, deems appropriate could face a lengthy prison term. See 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a)(2) (Supp.1997). Similarly, a parent who sent his 17-year-old college freshman information on birth control via e-mail could be incarcerated even though neither he, his child, nor anyone in their home community, found the material "indecent'' or "patently offensive,'' if the college town's community thought otherwise.

          The breadth of this content-based restriction of speech imposes an especially heavy burden on the Government to explain why a less restrictive provision would not be as effective as the CDA. It has not done so. The arguments in this Court have referred to possible alternatives such as requiring that indecent material be "tagged'' in a way that facilitates parental control of material coming into their homes, making exceptions for messages with artistic or educational value, providing some tolerance for parental choice, and regulating some portions of the Internet-such as commercial web sites-differently than others, such as chat rooms. Particularly in the light of the absence of any detailed findings by the Congress, or even hearings addressing the special problems of the CDA, we are persuaded that the CDA is not narrowly tailored if that requirement has any meaning at all.

VIII

          In an attempt to curtail the CDA's facial overbreadth, the Government advances three additional arguments for sustaining the Act's affirmative prohibitions: (1) that the CDA is constitutional because it leaves open ample "alternative channels'' of communication; (2) that the plain meaning of the Act's "knowledge'' and "specific person'' requirement significantly restricts its permissible applications; and (3) that the Act's prohibitions are "almost always'' limited to material lacking redeeming social value.

          The Government first contends that, even though the CDA effectively censors discourse on many of the Internet's modalities-such as chat groups, newsgroups, and mail exploders-it is nonetheless constitutional because it provides a "reasonable opportunity'' for speakers to engage in the restricted speech on the World Wide Web. Brief for Appellants 39. This argument is unpersuasive because the CDA regulates speech on the basis of its content. A "time, place, and manner'' analysis is therefore inapplicable. See Consolidated Edison Co. of N.Y. v. Public Serv. Comm'n of N.Y., 447 U.S. 530, 536, 100 S.Ct. 2326, 2332-2333, 65 L.Ed.2d 319 (1980). It is thus immaterial whether such speech would be feasible on the Web (which, as the Government's own expert acknowledged, would cost up to $10,000 if the speaker's interests were not accommodated by an existing Web site, not including costs for database management and age verification). The Government's position is equivalent to arguing that a statute could ban leaflets on certain subjects as long as individuals are free to publish books. In invalidating a number of laws that banned leafletting on the streets regardless of their content-we explained that "one is not to have the exercise of his liberty of expression in appropriate places abridged on the plea that it may be exercised in some other place.'' Schneider v. State of N.J. (Town of Irvington), 308 U.S. 147, 163, 60 S.Ct. 146, 151-152, 84 L.Ed. 155 (1939).

          The Government also asserts that the "knowledge'' requirement of both §§223(a) and (d), especially when coupled with the "specific child'' element found in §223(d), saves the CDA from overbreadth. Because both sections prohibit the dissemination of indecent messages only to persons known to be under 18, the Government argues, it does not require transmitters to "refrain from communicating indecent material to adults; they need only refrain from disseminating such materials to persons they know to be under 18.'' Brief for Appellants 24.

          This argument ignores the fact that most Internet fora-including chat rooms, newsgroups, mail exploders, and the Web-are open to all comers. The Government's assertion that the knowledge requirement somehow protects the communications of adults is therefore untenable. Even the strongest reading of the "specific person'' requirement of §223(d) cannot save the statute. It would confer broad powers of censorship, in the form of a "heckler's veto,'' upon any opponent of indecent speech who might simply log on and inform the would-be discoursers that his 17-year-old child-a "specific person . . . under 18 years of age,'' 47 U.S.C.A. §223(d)(1)(A) (Supp.1997)- would be present.

          Finally, we find no textual support for the Government's submission that material having scientific, educational, or other redeeming social value will necessarily fall outside the CDA's "patently offensive'' and "indecent'' prohibitions. See also n. 37, supra.

IX

          The Government's three remaining arguments focus on the defenses provided in §223(e)(5). 46 First, relying on the "good faith, reasonable, effective, and appropriate actions'' provision, the Government suggests that "tagging'' provides a defense that saves the constitutionality of the Act. The suggestion assumes that transmitters may encode their indecent communications in a way that would indicate their contents, thus permitting recipients to block their reception with appropriate software. It is the requirement that the good faith action must be "effective'' that makes this defense illusory. The Government recognizes that its proposed screening software does not currently exist. Even if it did, there is no way to know whether a potential recipient will actually block the encoded material. Without the impossible knowledge that every guardian in America is screening for the "tag,'' the transmitter could not reasonably rely on its action to be "effective.''

          For its second and third arguments concerning defenses-which we can consider together-the Government relies on the latter half of §223(e)(5), which applies when the transmitter has restricted access by requiring use of a verified credit card or adult identification. Such verification is not only technologically available but actually is used by commercial providers of sexually explicit material. These providers, therefore, would be protected by the defense. Under the findings of the District Court, however, it is not economically feasible for most noncommercial speakers to employ such verification. Accordingly, this defense would not significantly narrow the statute's burden on noncommercial speech. Even with respect to the commercial pornographers that would be protected by the defense, the Government failed to adduce any evidence that these verification techniques actually preclude minors from posing as adults. 47 Given that the risk of criminal sanctions "hovers over each content provider, like the proverbial sword of Damocles,''48 the District Court correctly refused to rely on unproven future technology to save the statute. The Government thus failed to prove that the proffered defense would significantly reduce the heavy burden on adult speech produced by the prohibition on offensive displays.

          We agree with the District Court's conclusion that the CDA places an unacceptably heavy burden on protected speech, and that the defenses do not constitute the sort of "narrow tailoring'' that will save an otherwise patently invalid unconstitutional provision. In Sable, 492 U.S., at 127, 109 S.Ct., at 2837, we remarked that the speech restriction at issue there amounted to ""burn[ing] the house to roast the pig.''' The CDA, casting a far darker shadow over free speech, threatens to torch a large segment of the Internet community.

X

          At oral argument, the Government relied heavily on its ultimate fall-back position: If this Court should conclude that the CDA is insufficiently tailored, it urged, we should save the statute's constitutionality by honoring the severability clause, see 47 U.S.C. §608, and construing nonseverable terms narrowly. In only one respect is this argument acceptable.

          A severability clause requires textual provisions that can be severed. We will follow §608's guidance by leaving constitutional textual elements of the statute intact in the one place where they are, in fact, severable. The "indecency'' provision, 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a) (Supp.1997), applies to "any comment, request, suggestion, proposal, image, or other communication which is obscene or indecent. '' —(Emphasis added.) Appellees do not challenge the application of the statute to obscene speech, which, they acknowledge, can be banned totally because it enjoys no First Amendment protection. See Miller, 413 U.S., at 18, 93 S.Ct., at 2611-2612. As set forth by the statute, the restriction of "obscene'' material enjoys a textual manifestation separate from that for "indecent'' material, which we have held unconstitutional. Therefore, we will sever the term "or indecent'' from the statute, leaving the rest of §223(a) standing. In no other respect, however, can §223(a) or §223(d) be saved by such a textual surgery.

          The Government also draws on an additional, less traditional aspect of the CDA's severability clause, 47 U.S.C., §608, which asks any reviewing court that holds the statute facially unconstitutional not to invalidate the CDA in application to "other persons or circumstances'' that might be constitutionally permissible. It further invokes this Court's admonition that, absent "countervailing considerations,'' a statute should "be declared invalid to the extent it reaches too far, but otherwise left intact.'' Brockett v. Spokane Arcades, Inc., 472 U.S. 491, 503-504, 105 S.Ct. 2794, 2801-2802, 86 L.Ed.2d 394 (1985). There are two flaws in this argument.

          First, the statute that grants our jurisdiction for this expedited review, 47 U.S.C.A. §561 (Supp.1997), limits that jurisdictional grant to actions challenging the CDA "on its face.'' Consistent with §561, the plaintiffs who brought this suit and the three-judge panel that decided it treated it as a facial challenge. We have no authority, in this particular posture, to convert this litigation into an "as-applied'' challenge. Nor, given the vast array of plaintiffs, the range of their expressive activities, and the vagueness of the statute, would it be practicable to limit our holding to a judicially defined set of specific applications.

          Second, one of the "countervailing considerations'' mentioned in Brockett is present here. In considering a facial challenge, this Court may impose a limiting construction on a statute only if it is "readily susceptible'' to such a construction. Virginia v. American Bookseller's Assn., Inc., 484 U.S. 383, 397, 108 S.Ct. 636, 645, 98 L.Ed.2d 782 (1988). See also Erznoznik, v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 216, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 2276, 45 L.Ed.2d 125 (1975) ("readily subject'' to narrowing construction). The open-ended character of the CDA provides no guidance what ever for limiting its coverage.

          This case is therefore unlike those in which we have construed a statute narrowly because the text or other source of congressional intent identified a clear line that this Court could draw. Cf., e.g., Brockett, 472 U.S., at 504-505, 105 S.Ct., at 2802 (invalidating obscenity statute only to the extent that word "lust'' was actually or effectively excised from statute); United States v. Grace, 461 U.S. 171, 180-183, 103 S.Ct. 1702, 1708-1710, 75 L.Ed.2d 736 (1983) (invalidating federal statute banning expressive displays only insofar as it extended to public sidewalks when clear line could be drawn between sidewalks and other grounds that comported with congressional purpose of protecting the building, grounds, and people therein). Rather, our decision in United States v. National Treasury Employees Union, 513 U.S. 454, 479, n. 26, 115 S.Ct. 1003, 1019, n. 26, 130 L.Ed.2d 964 (1995), is applicable. In that case, we declined to "dra[w] one or more lines between categories of speech covered by an overly broad statute, when Congress has sent inconsistent signals as to where the new line or lines should be drawn'' because doing so "involves a far more serious invasion of the legislative domain.''49 This Court "will not rewrite a . . . law to conform it to constitutional requirements.'' American Booksellers, 484 U.S., at 397, 108 S.Ct., at 645. 50

XI

          In this Court, though not in the District Court, the Government asserts that-in addition to its interest in protecting children-its " [e]qually significant'' interest in fostering the growth of the Internet provides an independent basis for upholding the constitutionality of the CDA. Brief for Appellants 19. The Government apparently assumes that the unregulated availability of "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' material on the Internet is driving countless citizens away from the medium because of the risk of exposing themselves or their children to harmful material.

          We find this argument singularly unpersuasive. The dramatic expansion of this new marketplace of ideas contradicts the factual basis of this contention. The record demonstrates that the growth of the Internet has been and continues to be phenomenal. As a matter of constitutional tradition, in the absence of evidence to the contrary, we presume that governmental regulation of the content of speech is more likely to interfere with the free exchange of ideas than to encourage it. The interest in encouraging freedom of expression in a democratic society outweighs any theoretical but unproven benefit of censorship.

          For the foregoing reasons, the judgment of the district court is affirmed.

          It is so ordered.

           Justice O'CONNOR, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE joins, concurring in the judgment in part and dissenting in part.

          I write separately to explain why I view the Communications Decency Act of 1996(CDA) as little more than an attempt by Congress to create "adult zones'' on the Internet. Our precedent indicates that the creation of such zones can be constitutionally sound. Despite the soundness of its purpose, however, portions of the CDA are unconstitutional because they stray from the blueprint our prior cases have developed for constructing a "zoning law'' that passes constitutional muster.

          Appellees bring a facial challenge to three provisions of the CDA. The first, which the Court describes as the "indecency transmission'' provision, makes it a crime to knowingly transmit an obscene or indecent message or image to a person the sender knows is under 18 years old. 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a)(1)(B) (May 1996 Supp.). What the Court classifies as a single ""patently offensive display''' provision, see ante, at __, is in reality two separate provisions. The first of these makes it a crime to knowingly send a patently offensive message or image to a specific person under the age of 18 ("specific person'' provision). §223(d)(1)(A). The second criminalizes the display of patently offensive messages or images "in a[ny] manner available'' to minors ("display'' provision). §223(d)(1)(B). None of these provisions purports to keep indecent (or patently offensive) material away from adults, who have a First Amendment right to obtain this speech. Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U.S. 115, 126, 109 S.Ct. 2829, 2836, 106 L.Ed.2d 93 (1989) ("Sexual expression which is indecent but not obscene is protected by the First Amendment''). Thus, the undeniable purpose of the CDA is to segregate indecent material on the Internet into certain areas that minors cannot access. See S. Conf. Rep. No. 104-230, p. 189 (1996) (CDA imposes "access restrictions . . . to protect minors from exposure to indecent material'').

          The creation of "adult zones'' is by no means a novel concept. States have long denied minors access to certain establishments frequented by adults. 1 States have also denied minors access to speech deemed to be "harmful to minors.''2 The Court has previously sustained such zoning laws, but only if they respect the First Amendment rights of adults and minors. That is to say, a zoning law is valid if (i) it does not unduly restrict adult access to the material; and (ii) minors have no First Amendment right to read or view the banned material. As applied to the Internet as it exists in 1997, the "display'' provision and some applications of the "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions fail to adhere to the first of these limiting principles by restricting adults' access to protected materials in certain circumstances. Unlike the Court, however, I would invalidate the provisions only in those circumstances.

I

          Our cases make clear that a "zoning'' law is valid only if adults are still able to obtain the regulated speech. If they cannot, the law does more than simply keep children away from speech they have no right to obtain-it interferes with the rights of adults to obtain constitutionally protected speech and effectively "reduce[s] the adult population . . . to reading only what is fit for children.'' Butler v. Michigan, 352 U.S. 380, 383, 77 S.Ct. 524, 526, 1 L.Ed.2d 412 (1957). The First Amendment does not tolerate such interference. See id., at 383, 77 S.Ct., at 526 (striking down a Michigan criminal law banning sale of books-to minors or adults-that contained words or pictures that ""tende[d] to . . . corrup[t] the morals of youth'''); Sable Communications, supra (invalidating federal law that made it a crime to transmit indecent, but nonobscene, commercial telephone messages to minors and adults); Bolger v. Youngs Drug Products Corp., 463 U.S. 60, 74, 103 S.Ct. 2875, 2884, 77 L.Ed.2d 469 (1983) (striking down a federal law prohibiting the mailing of unsolicited advertisements for contraceptives). If the law does not unduly restrict adults' access to constitutionally protected speech, however, it may be valid. In Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 634, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 1277-1278, 20 L.Ed.2d 195 (1968), for example, the Court sustained a New York law that barred store owners from selling pornographic magazines to minors in part because adults could still buy those magazines.

          The Court in Ginsberg concluded that the New York law created a constitutionally adequate adult zone simply because, on its face, it denied access only to minors. The Court did not question-and therefore necessarily assumed-that an adult zone, once created, would succeed in preserving adults' access while denying minors' access to the regulated speech. Before today, there was no reason to question this assumption, for the Court has previously only considered laws that operated in the physical world, a world that with two characteristics that make it possible to create "adult zones'': geography and identity. See Lessig, Reading the Constitution in Cyberspace, 45 Emory L.J. 869, 886 (1996). A minor can see an adult dance show only if he enters an establishment that provides such entertainment. And should he attempt to do so, the minor will not be able to conceal completely his identity (or, consequently, his age). Thus, the twin characteristics of geography and identity enable the establishment's proprietor to prevent children from entering the establishment, but to let adults inside.

          The electronic world is fundamentally different. Because it is no more than the interconnection of electronic pathways, cyberspace allows speakers and listeners to mask their identities. Cyberspace undeniably reflects some form of geography; chat rooms and Web sites, for example, exist at fixed "locations'' on the Internet. Since users can transmit and receive messages on the Internet without revealing anything about their identities or ages, see Lessig, supra, at 901, however, it is not currently possible to exclude persons from accessing certain messages on the basis of their identity.

          Cyberspace differs from the physical world in another basic way: Cyberspace is malleable. Thus, it is possible to construct barriers in cyberspace and use them to screen for identity, making cyberspace more like the physical world and, consequently, more amenable to zoning laws. This transformation of cyberspace is already underway. Lessig, supra, at 888-889. Id., at 887 (cyberspace "is moving . . . from a relatively unzoned place to a universe that is extraordinarily well zoned''). Internet speakers (users who post material on the Internet) have begun to zone cyberspace itself through the use of "gateway'' technology. Such technology requires Internet users to enter information about themselves-perhaps an adult identification number or a credit card number-before they can access certain areas of cyberspace, 929 F.Supp. 824, 845 (E.D.Pa.1996), much like a bouncer checks a person's driver's license before admitting him to a nightclub. Internet users who access information have not attempted to zone cyberspace itself, but have tried to limit their own power to access information in cyberspace, much as a parent controls what her children watch on television by installing a lock box. This user-based zoning is accomplished through the use of screening software (such as Cyber Patrol or SurfWatch) or browsers with screening capabilities, both of which search addresses and text for keywords that are associated with "adult'' sites and, if the user wishes, blocks access to such sites. Id., at 839-842. The Platform for Internet Content Selection (PICS) project is designed to facilitate user-based zoning by encouraging Internet speakers to rate the content of their speech using codes recognized by all screening programs. Id., at 838-839.

          Despite this progress, the transformation of cyberspace is not complete. Although gateway technology has been available on the World Wide Web for some time now, id., at 845; Shea v. Reno, 930 F.Supp. 916, 933-934 (S.D.N.Y.1996), it is not available to all Web speakers, 929 F.Supp., at 845-846, and is just now becoming technologically feasible for chat rooms and USENET newsgroups, Brief for Federal Parties 37-38. Gateway technology is not ubiquitous in cyberspace, and because without it "there is no means of age verification,'' cyberspace still remains largely unzoned-and unzoneable. 929 F.Supp., at 846; Shea, supra, at 934. User-based zoning is also in its infancy. For it to be effective, (i) an agreed-upon code (or "tag'') would have to exist; (ii) screening software or browsers with screening capabilities would have to be able to recognize the "tag''; and (iii) those programs would have to be widely available-and widely used-by Internet users. At present, none of these conditions is true. Screening software "is not in wide use today'' and "only a handful of browsers have screening capabilities.'' Shea, supra, at 945-946. There is, moreover, no agreed-upon "tag'' for those programs to recognize. 929 F.Supp., at 848; Shea, supra, at 945.

          Although the prospects for the eventual zoning of the Internet appear promising, I agree with the Court that we must evaluate the constitutionality of the CDA as it applies to the Internet as it exists today. Ante, at __. Given the present state of cyberspace, I agree with the Court that the "display'' provision cannot pass muster. Until gateway technology is available throughout cyberspace, and it is not in 1997, a speaker cannot be reasonably assured that the speech he displays will reach only adults because it is impossible to confine speech to an "adult zone.'' Thus, the only way for a speaker to avoid liability under the CDA is to refrain completely from using indecent speech. But this forced silence impinges on the First Amendment right of adults to make and obtain this speech and, for all intents and purposes, "reduce[s] the adult population [on the Internet] to reading only what is fit for children.'' Butler, 352 U.S., at 383, 77 S.Ct., at 526. As a result, the "display'' provision cannot withstand scrutiny. Accord, Sable Communications, 492 U.S., at 126-131, 109 S.Ct., at 2836-2839; Bolger v. Youngs Drug Products Corp., 463 U.S., at 73-75, 103 S.Ct., at 2883-2885.

          The "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions present a closer issue, for they are not unconstitutional in all of their applications. As discussed above, the "indecency transmission'' provision makes it a crime to transmit knowingly an indecent message to a person the sender knows is under 18 years of age. 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a)(1)(B) (May 1996 Supp.). The "specific person'' provision proscribes the same conduct, although it does not as explicitly require the sender to know that the intended recipient of his indecent message is a minor. §223(d)(1)(A). Appellant urges the Court to construe the provision to impose such a knowledge requirement, see Brief for Federal Parties 25-27, and I would do so. See Edward J. DeBartolo Corp. v. Florida Gulf Coast Building & Constr. Trades Council, 485 U.S. 568, 575, 108 S.Ct. 1392, 1397, 99 L.Ed.2d 645 (1988) (" [W]here an otherwise acceptable construction of a statute would raise serious constitutional problems, the Court will construe the statute to avoid such problems unless such construction is plainly contrary to the intent of Congress'').

          So construed, both provisions are constitutional as applied to a conversation involving only an adult and one or more minors-e.g., when an adult speaker sends an e-mail knowing the addressee is a minor, or when an adult and minor converse by themselves or with other minors in a chat room. In this context, these provisions are no different from the law we sustained in Ginsberg. Restricting what the adult may say to the minors in no way restricts the adult's ability to communicate with other adults. He is not prevented from speaking indecently to other adults in a chat room (because there are no other adults participating in the conversation) and he remains free to send indecent e-mails to other adults. The relevant universe contains only one adult, and the adult in that universe has the power to refrain from using indecent speech and consequently to keep all such speech within the room in an "adult'' zone.

          The analogy to Ginsberg breaks down, however, when more than one adult is a party to the conversation. If a minor enters a chat room otherwise occupied by adults, the CDA effectively requires the adults in the room to stop using indecent speech. If they did not, they could be prosecuted under the "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions for any indecent statements they make to the group, since they would be transmitting an indecent message to specific persons, one of whom is a minor. Accord, ante, at __. The CDA is therefore akin to a law that makes it a crime for a bookstore owner to sell pornographic magazines to anyone once a minor enters his store. Even assuming such a law might be constitutional in the physical world as a reasonable alternative to excluding minors completely from the store, the absence of any means of excluding minors from chat rooms in cyberspace restricts the rights of adults to engage in indecent speech in those rooms. The "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions share this defect.

          But these two provisions do not infringe on adults' speech in all situations. And as discussed below, I do not find that the provisions are overbroad in the sense that they restrict minors' access to a substantial amount of speech that minors have the right to read and view. Accordingly, the CDA can be applied constitutionally in some situations. Normally, this fact would require the Court to reject a direct facial challenge. United States v. Salerno, 481 U.S. 739, 745, 107 S.Ct. 2095, 2100, 95 L.Ed.2d 697 (1987) ("A facial challenge to a legislative Act [succeeds only if] the challenger . . . establish[es] that no set of circumstances exists under which the Act would be valid''). Appellees' claim arises under the First Amendment, however, and they argue that the CDA is facially invalid because it is "substantially overbroad''-that is, it "sweeps too broadly . . . [and] penaliz[es] a substantial amount of speech that is constitutionally protected,'' Forsyth County v. Nationalist Movement, 505 U.S. 123, 130, 112 S.Ct. 2395, 2401, 120 L.Ed.2d 101 (1992). See Brief for Appellees American Library Association et al. 48; Brief for Appellees American Civil Liberties Union et al. 39-41. I agree with the Court that the provisions are overbroad in that they cover any and all communications between adults and minors, regardless of how many adults might be part of the audience to the communication.

          This conclusion does not end the matter, however. Where, as here, "the parties challenging the statute are those who desire to engage in protected speech that the overbroad statute purports to punish . . . [t]he statute may forthwith be declared invalid to the extent that it reaches too far, but otherwise left intact.'' Brockett v. Spokane Arcades, Inc., 472 U.S. 491, 504, 105 S.Ct. 2794, 2802, 86 L.Ed.2d 394 (1985). There is no question that Congress intended to prohibit certain communications between one adult and one or more minors. See 47 U.S.C.A. §223(a)(1)(B) (May 1996 Supp.) (punishing " [w]hoever . . . initiates the transmission of [any indecent communication] knowingly that the recipient of the communication is under 18 years of age''); §223(d)(1)(A) (punishing " [w]hoever . . . send[s] to a specific person or persons under 18 years of age [a patently offensive message]''). There is also no question that Congress would have enacted a narrower version of these provisions had it known a broader version would be declared unconstitutional. 47 U.S.C. §608 ("If . . . the application [of any provision of the CDA] to any person or circumstance is held invalid, . . . the application of such provision to other persons or circumstances shall not be affected thereby''). I would therefore sustain the "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions to the extent they apply to the transmission of Internet communications where the party initiating the communication knows that all of the recipients are minors.

II

          Whether the CDA substantially interferes with the First Amendment rights of minors, and thereby runs afoul of the second characteristic of valid zoning laws, presents a closer question. In Ginsberg, the New York law we sustained prohibited the sale to minors of magazines that were "harmful to minors.'' Under that law, a magazine was "harmful to minors'' only if it was obscene as to minors. 390 U.S., at 632-633, 88 S.Ct., at 1276-1277. Noting that obscene speech is not protected by the First Amendment, Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476, 485, 77 S.Ct. 1304, 1309, 1 L.Ed.2d 1498 (1957), and that New York was constitutionally free to adjust the definition of obscenity for minors, 390 U.S., at 638, 88 S.Ct., at 1279-1280, the Court concluded that the law did not "invad[e] the area of freedom of expression constitutionally secured to minors.'' Id., at 637, 88 S.Ct., at 1279. New York therefore did not infringe upon the First Amendment rights of minors. Cf. Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U.S. 205, 213, 95 S.Ct. 2268, 2274-2275, 45 L.Ed.2d 125 (1975) (striking down city ordinance that banned nudity that was not "obscene even as to minors'').

          The Court neither "accept[s] nor reject[s]'' the argument that the CDA is facially overbroad because it substantially interferes with the First Amendment rights of minors. Ante, at __. I would reject it. Ginsberg established that minors may constitutionally be denied access to material that is obscene as to minors. As Ginsberg explained, material is obscene as to minors if it (i) is "patently offensive to prevailing standards in the adult community as a whole with respect to what is suitable . . . for minors''; (ii) appeals to the prurient interest of minors; and (iii) is "utterly without redeeming social importance for minors.'' 390 U.S., at 633, 88 S.Ct., at 1276. Because the CDA denies minors the right to obtain material that is "patently offensive''-even if it has some redeeming value for minors and even if it does not appeal to their prurient interests-Congress' rejection of the Ginsberg "harmful to minors'' standard means that the CDA could ban some speech that is "indecent'' (i.e., "patently offensive'') but that is not obscene as to minors.

          I do not deny this possibility, but to prevail in a facial challenge, it is not enough for a plaintiff to show "some'' overbreadth. Our cases require a proof of "real'' and "substantial'' overbreadth, Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U.S. 601, 615, 93 S.Ct. 2908, 2917-2918, 37 L.Ed.2d 830 (1973), and appellees have not carried their burden in this case. In my view, the universe of speech constitutionally protected as to minors but banned by the CDA-i.e., the universe of material that is "patently offensive,'' but which nonetheless has some redeeming value for minors or does not appeal to their prurient interest-is a very small one. Appellees cite no examples of speech falling within this universe and do not attempt to explain why that universe is substantial "in relation to the statute's plainly legitimate sweep.'' Ibid. That the CDA might deny minors the right to obtain material that has some "value,'' see ante, at __-__, is largely beside the point. While discussions about prison rape or nude art, see ibid., may have some redeeming education value for adults, they do not necessarily have any such value for minors, and under Ginsberg, minors only have a First Amendment right to obtain patently offensive material that has "redeeming social importance for minors, '' 390 U.S., at 633, 88 S.Ct., at 1276 (emphasis added). There is also no evidence in the record to support the contention that "many [e]-mail transmissions from an adult to a minor are conversations between family members,'' ante, at __, n. 32, and no support for the legal proposition that such speech is absolutely immune from regulation. Accordingly, in my view, the CDA does not burden a substantial amount of minors' constitutionally protected speech.

          Thus, the constitutionality of the CDA as a zoning law hinges on the extent to which it substantially interferes with the First Amendment rights of adults. Because the rights of adults are infringed only by the "display'' provision and by the "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions as applied to communications involving more than one adult, I would invalidate the CDA only to that extent. Insofar as the "indecency transmission'' and "specific person'' provisions prohibit the use of indecent speech in communications between an adult and one or more minors, however, they can and should be sustained. The Court reaches a contrary conclusion, and from that holding that I respectfully dissent.

*The syllabus constitutes no part of the opinion of the Court but has been prepared by the Reporter of Decisions for the convenience of the reader. See United States v. Detroit Timber & Lumber Co., 200 U.S. 321, 337, 26 S.Ct. 282, 287, 50 L.Ed. 499.

1. " Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech.'' U.S. Const., Amdt. 1.

2. The Court made 410 findings, including 356 paragraphs of the parties' stipulation and 54 findings based on evidence received in open court. See 929 F.Supp. at 830, n. 9, 842, n. 15.

3. An acronym for the network developed by the Advanced Research Project Agency.

4.Id., at 844 (finding 81).

5.Id., at 831 (finding 3).

6.Id., at 835 (finding 27).

7.Id., at 842 (finding 74).

8.Id., at 836 (finding 36).

9. " Web publishing is simple enough that thousands of individual users and small community organizations are using the Web to publish their own personal "home pages,' the equivalent of individualized newsletters about the person or organization, which are available to everyone on the Web.'' Id., at 837 (finding 42).

10.Id., at 838 (finding 46).

11.Id., at 844 (finding 82).

12.Ibid. (finding 86).

13.Ibid. (finding 85).

14.Id., at 848 (finding 117).

15.Id., at 844-845 (finding 88).

16.Ibid.

17.Id., at 845 (finding 89).

18.Id., at 842 (finding 72).

19.Ibid. (finding 73).

20.Id., at 845 (finding 90): "An e-mail address provides no authoritative information about the addressee, who may use an e-mail "alias' or an anonymous remailer. There is also no universal or reliable listing of e-mail addresses and corresponding names or telephone numbers, and any such listing would be or rapidly become incomplete. For these reasons, there is no reliable way in many instances for a sender to know if the e-mail recipient is an adult or a minor. The difficulty of e-mail age verification is compounded for mail exploders such as listservs, which automatically send information to all e-mail addresses on a sender's list. Government expert Dr. Olsen agreed that no current technology could give a speaker assurance that only adults were listed in a particular mail exploder's mailing list.''

21.Ibid. (finding 93).

22.Id., at 846 (finding 102).

23.Id., at 847 (findings 104-106):

"At least some, if not almost all, non-commercial organizations, such as the ACLU, Stop Prisoner Rape or Critical Path AIDS Project, regard charging listeners to access their speech as contrary to their goals of making their materials available to a wide audience free of charge.

...

There is evidence suggesting that adult users, particularly casual Web browsers, would be discouraged from retrieving information that required use of a credit card or password. Andrew Anker testified that HotWired has received many complaints from its members about HotWired's registration system, which requires only that a member supply a name, e-mail address and self-created password. There is concern by commercial content providers that age verification requirements would decrease advertising and revenue because advertisers depend on a demonstration that the sites are widely available and frequently visited.''

24. See Exon Amendment No. 1268, 141 Cong. Rec. S8120 (June 9, 1995). See also id., at S8087. This amendment, as revised, became §502 of the Communications Act of 1996, 110 Stat. 133, 47 U.S.C.A. §§223(a)-(e) (Supp.1997). Some Members of the House of Representatives opposed the Exon Amendment because they thought it "possible for our parents now to child-proof the family computer with these products available in the private sector.'' They also thought the Senate's approach would "involve the Federal Government spending vast sums of money trying to define elusive terms that are going to lead to a flood of legal challenges while our kids are unprotected.'' These Members offered an amendment intended as a substitute for the Exon Amendment, but instead enacted as an additional section of the Act entitled "Online Family Empowerment.'' See 110 Stat. 137, 47 U.S.C.A. §230 (Supp.1997); 141 Cong. Rec. H8468-H8472. No hearings were held on the provisions that became law. See S.Rep. No. 104-23 (1995), p. 9. After the Senate adopted the Exon amendment, however, its Judiciary Committee did conduct a one-day hearing on "Cyberporn and Children.'' In his opening statement at that hearing, Senator Leahy observed:

It really struck me in your opening statement when you mentioned, Mr. Chairman, that it is the first ever hearing, and you are absolutely right. And yet we had a major debate on the floor, passed legislation overwhelmingly on a subject involving the Internet, legislation that could dramatically change-some would say even wreak havoc-on the Internet. The Senate went in willy-nilly, passed legislation, and never once had a hearing, never once had a discussion other than an hour or so on the floor.'' Cyberporn and Children: The Scope of the Problem, The State of the Technology, and the Need for Congressional Action, Hearing on S. 892 before the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, 104th Cong., 1st Sess., 7-8 (1995).

25. Although the Government and the dissent break §223(d)(1) into two separate "patently offensive'' and "display'' provisions, we follow the convention of both parties below, as well the District Court's order and opinion, in describing §223(d)(1) as one provision.

26. In full, §223(e)(5) provides:

(5) It is a defense to a prosecution under subsection (a)(1)(B) or (d) of this section, or under subsection (a)(2) of this section with respect to the use of a facility for an activity under subsection (a)(1)(B) of this section that a person-

(A) has taken, in good faith, reasonable, effective, and appropriate actions under the circumstances to restrict or prevent access by minors to a communication specified in such subsections, which may involve any appropriate measures to restrict minors from such communications, including any method which is feasible under available technology; or

(B) has restricted access to such communication by requiring use of a verified credit card, debit account, adult access code, or adult personal identification number.''

27. American Civil Liberties Union; Human Rights Watch; Electronic Privacy Information Center; Electronic Frontier Foundation; Journalism Education Association; Computer Professionals for Social Responsibility; National Writers Union; Clarinet Communications Corp.; Institute for Global Communications; Stop Prisoner Rape; AIDS Education Global Information System; Bibliobytes; Queer Resources Directory; Critical Path AIDS Project, Inc.; Wildcat Press, Inc.; Declan McCullagh dba Justice on Campus; Brock Meeks dba Cyberwire Dispatch; John Troyer dba The Safer Sex Page; Jonathan Wallace dba The Ethical Spectacle; and Planned Parenthood Federation of America, Inc.

28. American Library Association; America Online, Inc.; American Booksellers Association, Inc.; American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression; American Society of Newspaper Editors; Apple Computer, Inc.; Association of American Publishers, Inc.; Association of Publishers, Editors and Writers; Citizens Internet Empowerment Coalition; Commercial Internet Exchange Association; CompuServe Incorporated; Families Against Internet Censorship; Freedom to Read Foundation, Inc.; Health Sciences Libraries Consortium; Hotwired Ventures LLC; Interactive Digital Software Association; Interactive Services Association; Magazine Publishers of America; Microsoft Corporation; The Microsoft Network, L.L. C.; National Press Photographers Association; Netcom On-Line Communication Services, Inc.; Newspaper Association of America; Opnet, Inc.; Prodigy Services Company; Society of Professional Journalists; Wired Ventures, Ltd.

29. 110 Stat. 142-143, note following 47 U.S.C.A. §223 (Supp.1997).

30. See also 929 F.Supp., at 877: "Four related characteristics of Internet communication have a transcendent importance to our shared holding that the CDA is unconstitutional on its face. We explain these characteristics in our Findings of fact above, and I only rehearse them briefly here. First, the Internet presents very low barriers to entry. Second, these barriers to entry are identical for both speakers and listeners. Third, as a result of these low barriers, astoundingly diverse content is available on the Internet. Fourth, the Internet provides significant access to all who wish to speak in the medium, and even creates a relative parity among speakers.'' According to Judge Dalzell, these characteristics and the rest of the District Court's findings "lead to the conclusion that Congress may not regulate indecency on the Internet at all.'' Ibid. Because appellees do not press this argument before this Court, we do not consider it. Appellees also do not dispute that the Government generally has a compelling interest in protecting minors from "indecent'' and "patently offensive'' speech.

31. 390 U.S., at 639, 88 S.Ct., at 1280. We quoted from Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U.S. 158, 166, 64 S.Ct. 438, 442, 88 L.Ed. 645 (1944): "It is cardinal with us that the custody, care and nurture of the child reside first in the parents, whose primary function and freedom include preparation for obligations the state can neither supply nor hinder.''

32. Given the likelihood that many E-mail transmissions from an adult to a minor are conversations between family members, it is therefore incorrect for the dissent to suggest that the provisions of the CDA, even in this narrow area, "are no different from the law we sustained in Ginsberg. '' Post, at __.

33. Cf. Pacifica Foundation v. FCC, 556 F.2d 9, 36 (C.A.D.C.1977) (Levanthal, J., dissenting), rev'd, FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, 438 U.S. 726, 98 S.Ct. 3026, 57 L.Ed.2d 1073 (1978). When Pacifica was decided, given that radio stations were allowed to operate only pursuant to federal license, and that Congress had enacted legislation prohibiting licensees from broadcasting indecent speech, there was a risk that members of the radio audience might infer some sort of official or societal approval of whatever was heard over the radio, see 556 F.2d, at 37, n. 18. No such risk attends messages received through the Internet, which is not supervised by any federal agency.

34. Juris. Statement 3 (citing 929 F.Supp., at 831 (finding 3)).

35. " Indecent'' does not benefit from any textual embellishment at all. "Patently offensive'' is qualified only to the extent that it involves "sexual or excretory activities or organs'' taken "in context'' and "measured by contemporary community standards.''

36. See Gozlon-Peretz v. United States, 498 U.S. 395, 404, 111 S.Ct. 840, 846-847, 112 L.Ed.2d 919 (1991) ("Where Congress includes particular language in one section of a statute but omits it in another section of the same Act, it is generally presumed that Congress acts intentionally and purposely in the disparate inclusion and exclusion'') (internal quotation marks omitted).

37. The statute does not indicate whether the "patently offensive'' and "indecent'' determinations should be made with respect to minors or the population as a whole. The Government asserts that the appropriate standard is "what is suitable material for minors.'' Reply Brief for Appellants 18, n. 13 (citing Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U.S. 629, 633, 88 S.Ct. 1274, 1276-1277, 20 L.Ed.2d 195 (1968)). But the Conferees expressly rejected amendments that would have imposed such a "harmful to minors'' standard. See S. Conf. Rep. No. 104-230, p. 189 (1996) (S.Conf.Rep.), 142 Cong. Rec. H1145, H1165-1166 (Feb. 1, 1996). The Conferees also rejected amendments that would have limited the proscribed materials to those lacking redeeming value. See S. Conf. Rep., at 189, 142 Cong. Rec. H1165-1166 (Feb. 1, 1996).

38. Even though the word "trunk,'' standing alone, might refer to luggage, a swimming suit, the base of a tree, or the long nose of an animal, its meaning is clear when it is one prong of a three-part description of a species of gray animals.

39. 413 U.S., at 30, 93 S.Ct., at 2618 (Determinations of "what appeals to the "pruri ent interest' or is "patently offensive' . . . . are essentially questions of fact, and our Nation is simply too big and too diverse for this Court to reasonably expect that such standards could be articulated for all 50 States in a single formulation, even assuming the prerequisite consensus exists''). The CDA, which implements the "contemporary community standards'' language of Miller, thus conflicts with the Conferees' own assertion that the CDA was intended "to establish a uniform national standard of content regulation.'' S. Conf. Rep., at 191.

40. Accord, Butler v. Michigan, 352 U.S. 380, 383, 77 S.Ct. 524, 525-526, 1 L.Ed.2d 412 (1957) (ban on sale to adults of books deemed harmful to children unconstitutional); Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U.S. 115, 128, 109 S.Ct. 2829, 2837-2838, 106 L.Ed.2d 93 (1989) (ban on "dial-a-porn'' messages unconstitutional); Bolger v. Youngs Drug Products Corp., 463 U.S. 60, 73, 103 S.Ct. 2875, 2883-2884, 77 L.Ed.2d 469 (1983) (ban on mailing of unsolicited advertisement for contraceptives unconstitutional).

41. The lack of legislative attention to the statute at issue in Sable suggests another parallel with this case. Compare 492 U.S., at 129-130, 109 S.Ct., at 2838 (" [A]side from conclusory statements during the debates by proponents of the bill, as well as similar assertions in hearings on a substantially identical bill the year before, . . . the congressional record presented to us contains no evidence as to how effective or ineffective the FCC's most recent regulations were or might prove to be . . . . No Congressman or Senator purported to present a considered judgment with respect to how often or to what extent minors could or would circumvent the rules and have access to dial-a-porn messages'') with n. 24, supra.

42. The Government agrees that these provisions are applicable whenever "a sender transmits a message to more than one recipient, knowing that at least one of the specific persons receiving the message is a minor.'' Opposition to Motion to Affirm and Reply to Juris. Statement 4-5, n. 1.

43. The Government asserts that " [t]here is nothing constitutionally suspect about requiring commercial Web site operators . . . to shoulder the modest burdens associated with their use.'' Brief for Appellants 35. As a matter of fact, however, there is no evidence that a "modest burden'' would be effective.

44. Transmitting obscenity and child pornography, whether via the Internet or other means, is already illegal under federal law for both adults and juveniles. See 18 U.S.C. §§1464-1465 (criminalizing obscenity); §2251 (criminalizing child pornography). In fact, when Congress was considering the CDA, the Government expressed its view that the law was unnecessary because existing laws already authorized its ongoing efforts to prosecute obscenity, child pornography, and child solicitation. See 141 Cong. Rec. S8342 (June 14, 1995) (letter from Kent Markus, Acting Assistant Attorney General, U.S. Department of Justice, to Sen. Leahy).

45. Citing Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah, 508 U.S. 520, 113 S.Ct. 2217, 124 L.Ed.2d 472 (1993), among other cases, appellees offer an additional reason why, in their view, the CDA fails strict scrutiny. Because so much sexually explicit content originates overseas, they argue, the CDA cannot be "effective.'' Brief for Appellees American Library Association et al. 33-34. This argument raises difficult issues regarding the intended, as well as the permissible scope of, extraterritorial application of the CDA. We find it unnecessary to address those issues to dispose of this case.

46. For the full text of §223(e)(5), see n. 26, supra.

47. Thus, ironically, this defense may significantly protect commercial purveyors of obscene postings while providing little (or no) benefit for transmitters of indecent messages that have significant social or artistic value.

48. 929 F.Supp., at 855-856.

49. As this Court long ago explained, "It would certainly be dangerous if the Legislature could set a net large enough to catch all possible offenders and leave it to the courts to step inside and say who could be rightfully be detained and who should be set at large. This would, to some extent, substitute the judicial for the legislative department of the government.'' United States v. Reese, 92 U.S. 214, 221, 23 L.Ed. 563 (1875). In part because of these separation of powers concerns, we have held that a severability clause is "an aid merely; not an inexorable command.'' Dorchy v. Kansas, 264 U.S. 286, 290, 44 S.Ct. 323, 325, 68 L.Ed. 686 (1924).

50. See also Osborne v. Ohio, 495 U.S. 103, 121, 110 S.Ct. 1691, 1702-1703, 109 L.Ed.2d 98 (1990) (judicial rewriting of statutes would derogate Congress's "incentive to draft a narrowly tailored law in the first place'').

1. See, e.g., Alaska Stat. Ann. §11.66.300 (1996) (no minors in "adult entertainment'' places); Ariz.Rev.Stat. Ann. §13-3556 (1989) (no minors in places where people expose themselves); Ark.Code Ann. §§5-27-223, 5-27-224 (1993) (no minors in poolrooms and bars); Colo.Rev.Stat. §18-7-502(2) (1986) (no minors in places displaying movies or shows that are "harmful to children''); Del.Code Ann., Tit. 11, §1365(i)(2) (1995) (same); D.C.Code Ann. §22-2001(b)(1)(B) (1996) (same); Fla. Stat. §847.013(2) (1994) (same); Ga.Code Ann. §16-12-103(b) (1996) (same); Haw.Rev.Stat. §712-1215(1)(b) (1994) (no minors in movie houses or shows that are "pornographic for minors''); Idaho Code §18-1515(2) (1987) (no minors in places displaying movies or shows that are "harmful to minors''); La.Rev.Stat. Ann. §14:91.11(B) (West 1986) (no minors in places displaying movies that depict sex acts and appeal to minors' prurient interest); Md. Ann.Code, Art. 27, §416E (1996) (no minors in establishments where certain enumerated acts are performed or portrayed); Mich. Comp. Laws §750.141 (1991) (no minors without an adult in places where alcohol is sold); Minn.Stat. §617.294 (1987 and Supp.1997) (no minors in places displaying movies or shows that are "harmful to minors''); Miss.Code Ann. §97-5-11 (1994) (no minors in poolrooms, billiard halls, or where alcohol is sold); Mo.Rev.Stat. §573.507 (1995) (no minors in adult cabarets); Neb.Rev.Stat. §28-809 (1995) (no minors in places displaying movies or shows that are "harmful to minors''); Nev.Rev.Stat. §201.265(3) (1997) (same); N.H.Rev.Stat. Ann. §571-B:2(II) (1986) (same); N.M. Stat. Ann. §30-37-3 (1989) (same); N.Y. Penal Law §235.21(2) (McKinney 1989) (same); N.D. Cent.Code §12.1-27.1 -03 (1985 and Supp.1995) (same); 18 Pa. Cons.Stat. §5903(a) (Supp.1997) (same); S.D. Comp. Laws Ann. §22-24-30 (1988) (same); Tenn.Code Ann. §39-17-911(b) (1991) (same); Vt. Stat. Ann., Tit. 13, §2802(b) (1974) (same); Va.Code Ann. §18.2-391 (1996) (same).

2. See, e.g., Ala.Code §13A-12-200.5 (1994); Ariz.Rev.Stat. Ann. §13-3506 (1989); Ark.Code Ann. 5-68-502 (1993); Cal.Penal Code Ann. §313.1 (West Supp.1997); Colo.Rev.Stat. §18-7-502(1) (1986); Conn. Gen.Stat. §53a-196 (1994); Del.Code Ann., Tit. 11, §1365(i)(1) (1995); D.C.Code Ann. §22-2001(b)(1)(A) (1996); Fla. Stat. §847.012 (1994); Ga.Code Ann. §16-12-103(a) (1996); Haw.Rev.Stat. §712-1215(1) (1994); Idaho Code §18-1515(1) (1987); Ill. Comp. Stat., ch. 720, §5/11-21 (1993); Ind.Code §35-49-3-3(1) (Supp.1996); Iowa Code §728.2 (1993); Kan. Stat. Ann. §21-4301c(a)(2) (1988); La.Rev.Stat. Ann. §14:91.11(B) (West 1986); Md. Ann.Code, Art. 27, §416B (1996); Mass. Gen. Laws, ch. 272, §28 (1992); Minn.Stat. §617.293 (1987 and Supp.1997); Miss.Code Ann. §97-5-11 (1994); Mo.Rev.Stat. §573.040 (1995); Mont.Code Ann. §45-8-206 (1995); Neb.Rev.Stat. §28-808 (1995); Nev.Rev.Stat. §§201.265(1), (2) (1997); N.H.Rev.Stat. Ann. §571-B:2(I) (1986); N.M. Stat. Ann. §30-37-2 (1989); N.Y. Penal Law §235.21(1) (McKinney 1989); N.C. Gen.Stat. §14-190.15(a) (1993); N.D. Cent.Code §12.1-27.1-03 (1985 and Supp.1995); Ohio Rev.Code Ann. §2907.31(A)(1) (Supp.1997); Okla. Stat., Tit. 21, §1040.76(2) (Supp.1997); 18 Pa. Cons.Stat. §5903(c) (Supp.1997); R.I. Gen. Laws §11-31-10(a) (1996); S.C.Code Ann. §16-15-385(A) (Supp.1996); S.D. Comp. Laws Ann. §22-24-28 (1988); Tenn.Code Ann. §39-17-911(a) (1991); Tex Penal Code Ann. §43.24(b) (1994); Utah Code Ann. §76-10-1206(2) (1995); Vt. Stat. Ann., Tit. 13, §2802(a) (1974); Va.Code Ann. §18.2-391 (1996); Wash. Rev.Code §9.68.060 (1988 and Supp.1997); Wis. Stat. §948.11(2) (Supp.1995).

15.32 Kaelin v. Globe Communications 15.32 Kaelin v. Globe Communications

Case no. 97-55232.

 

162 F.3d 1036 (1998)
Brian "Kato" KAELIN, Plaintiff-Appellant,
v.
GLOBE COMMUNICATIONS CORPORATION, a Delaware corporation; Globe International, Inc., a foreign corporation; Jim Fraguela, an individual; and Does 1 through 50, inclusive, Defendants-Appellees.
No. 97-55232.

United States Court of Appeals, Ninth Circuit.

Argued and Submitted June 2, 1998.
Decided December 30, 1998.

1037*1037 Gary L. Bostwick, Bostwick & Hoffman, Santa Monica, California, for the plaintiff-appellant.

Amy D. Hogue, Pillsbury Madison & Sutro, Los Angeles, California, for the defendants-appellees.

Before: FLETCHER, D. W. NELSON, and SILVERMAN, Circuit Judges.

SILVERMAN, Circuit Judge:

One week after O.J. Simpson was acquitted of the murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman, the front page of the National Examiner proclaimed the following:

COPS THINK KATO DID IT!
... he fears they want him for perjury, say pals

The cops did not think that Kato Kaelin murdered Brown and Goldman. The publisher of the National Examiner did not believe that they did. Furthermore, its editor testified at deposition that he was concerned that the front page headline did not accurately reflect the content of the article about Kaelin that appeared inside the publication at page 17. We hold that reasonable jurors could find that clear and convincing evidence established: (1) the front page headline falsely insinuated that the police believed that Kaelin committed the murders; and (2) the false insinuation was not necessarily cured by the subheading or by the non-defamatory story about Kaelin that appeared 17 pages away. We also hold that Kaelin produced sufficiently clear and convincing evidence of the newspaper's knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard for the truth of its headline to defeat a motion for summary judgment. We reverse the grant of summary judgment in favor of the publisher and remand for trial.

 

1038*1038 FACTUAL AND PROCEDURAL BACKGROUND

Brian "Kato" Kaelin became known to the public during the course of the criminal trial of O.J. Simpson as the houseguest at Simpson's estate. Kaelin testified to various events surrounding the killings of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman. Simpson was acquitted of the double murders on October 3, 1995. One week later, the National Examiner, a weekly newspaper published by Globe Communications Corporation, featured the following headline on its cover:

COPS THINK KATO DID IT!
... he fears they want him for perjury, say pals[1]

Inside the paper, on page 17, in large, boldface, capital letters, the following headline appeared over the text of the article:

KATO KAELIN ...
COPS THINK HE DID IT!
... he fears they want him for perjury, say pals

The first four paragraphs of the article read as follows:

Kato Kaelin is still a suspect in the murder of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, friends fear.
They are worried that LAPD cops are desperately looking for a way to put Kato behind bars for perjury.
"We're sure the cops have been trying to prove that Kato didn't tell them everything he knows, that somehow he spoiled their case against O.J.," says one pal. "It's not true, but we think they're out to get even with Kato."
"I'm worried that Kato will get a persecution complex. He'll end up looking around every corner and thinking he sees a cop."

The remainder of the article contained other comments supposedly made by Kaelin's friends regarding the Simpson case. It also contained several references to a book about Kaelin by author Marc Eliot.

In a letter dated October 12, 1995, Kaelin demanded a retraction. Globe refused. Kaelin then filed this libel action against Globe in the Superior Court of California, and Globe removed it to federal court on the basis of diversity of citizenship.

During discovery, John Garton, the news editor of the National Examiner and Globe's designated representative, testified at deposition as follows:

Q. Okay. Did you have any concerns when you saw this headline of September 22nd [the deadline for the article] about the way this headline was framed?
A. I wasn't mad about it.
Q. What do you mean by that?
A. Journalistically I didn't think it was the best headline in the world.
Q. Were you concerned that it implied that Kato had committed the murders or played some role in them?
A. No, I just didn't think it was very accurate to the story. It could have been better.
* * * * * *
Q. Other than what is actually written in Exhibit 2 [prior published articles], any of the things that are in those articles, did the National Examiner have in its possession on September 22nd, 1995 any information that a police officer anywhere thought that Kato Kaelin was involved in Nicole Brown Simpson's and Ronald Goldman's murders?
A. No.
* * * * * *
Q. ... What did you think, on September 22nd, 1995 about what the words "Cops Think He Did It" meant? What is the "it" to which this statement —
A. Perjury.
Q. Perjury?
A. Mm-hmm.
Q. Did you have any concern that a reader might connect the "Cops Think He Did It" with the other information in the article that refers to allegations that Mr. Kaelin was involved in the murders themselves?
1039*1039 A. I was a bit concerned about it, yes, but in fact I thought the second part of the headline coped with that....

Globe filed a motion for summary judgment, claiming, in pertinent part, that Kaelin could not prove that Globe acted with actual malice. Focusing its analysis on the text of the article rather than on the headline, which was the heart of Kaelin's claim, the district court ruled that Kaelin "... has not submitted any evidence which tends to show that Defendants actually doubted the truth of the story or acted in reckless disregard of the truth...." With respect to the headline, the district court stated:

Plaintiff contends that Garton did have a problem with the headline and therefore, there is proof that Defendants acted with malice. However, although Garton did testify in his deposition that he had some concerns with the part of the headline that read "Cops Think Kato Did It" from a journalistic standpoint, he also testified that he thought the other part of the headline, "... he fears they want him for perjury, say pals," coped with that. See Garton Decl., p. 168. While Globe employees might not have acted with the professionalism that would be expected at a more reputable journalistic institution before running the article about Plaintiff, the failure to act reasonably is not enough to establish malice. [Citation omitted]

 

STANDARD OF REVIEW

We review a grant of summary judgment de novo. Bagdadi v. Nazar, 84 F.3d 1194, 1197 (9th Cir.1996). We must decide, viewing the evidence in the light most favorable to the nonmoving party, whether there are any genuine issues of material fact and whether the district court correctly applied the relevant substantive law. Id.

A public figure in a defamation case "cannot recover unless he proves by clear and convincing evidence that the defendant published the defamatory statement with actual malice, i.e., with `knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.'" Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., 501 U.S. 496, 510, 111 S.Ct. 2419, 115 L.Ed.2d 447 (1991) (quoting New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 279-80, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964)). The parties do not dispute that Kaelin is a public figure. The question of whether evidence in the record is sufficient to support a finding of actual malice is one of law. Harte-Hanks Communications, Inc. v. Connaughton, 491 U.S. 657, 685, 109 S.Ct. 2678, 105 L.Ed.2d 562 (1989). The appropriate summary judgment question is whether a reasonable jury could find, by clear and convincing evidence, that Kaelin has shown actual malice. Anderson v. Liberty Lobby, Inc., 477 U.S. 242, 255-56, 106 S.Ct. 2505, 91 L.Ed.2d 202 (1986).

We must draw all justifiable inferences in favor of Kaelin, "including questions of credibility and of the weight to be accorded particular evidence." Masson, 501 U.S. at 520, 111 S.Ct. 2419. "[T]he plaintiff, to survive the defendant's motion, need only present evidence from which a jury might return a verdict in his favor. If he does so, there is a genuine issue of fact that requires a trial." Anderson, 477 U.S. at 257, 106 S.Ct. 2505.

 

DISCUSSION

 

I

 

Although Kaelin complains about the first sentence of the article on page 17, we assume for the purposes of this appeal that the text of the story is not defamatory. This case is about the headlines, especially the one appearing on the cover. The first issue is whether the headlines alone are susceptible of a false and defamatory meaning and, if so, whether they can be the basis of a libel action even though the accompanying story is not defamatory.

 

A

 

As already seen, the front page headline consists of two sentences. The first — "COPS THINK KATO DID IT!" — states what the cops supposedly think. The second —"... he fears they want him for perjury, say pals" — is what Kato's pals supposedly said. These two sentences express two different 1040*1040 thoughts and are not mutually exclusive.

California courts in libel cases have emphasized that "the publication is to be measured, not so much by its effect when subjected to the critical analysis of a mind trained in the law, but by the natural and probable effect upon the mind of the average reader." Bates v. Campbell, 213 Cal. 438, 2 P.2d 383, 385 (Cal.1931)see also Corman v. Blanchard, 211 Cal.App.2d 126, 27 Cal.Rptr. 327, 332 (1962). Since the publication occurred just one week after O.J. Simpson's highly publicized acquittal for murder, we believe that a reasonable person, at that time, might well have concluded that the "it" in the first sentence of the cover and internal headlines referred to the murders. Such a reading of the first sentence is not negated by or inconsistent with the second sentence as a matter of logic, grammar, or otherwise. In our view, an ordinary reader reasonably could have read the headline to mean that the cops think that Kato committed the murders and that Kato fears that he is wanted for perjury.

Globe argues that the "it" refers to perjury. Even assuming that such a reading is reasonably possible, it is not the only reading that is reasonably possible as a matter of law. So long as the publication is reasonably susceptible of a defamatory meaning, a factual question for the jury exists. See Kahn v. Bower, 232 Cal.App.3d 1599, 284 Cal.Rptr. 244, 249-50 (1991)Weller v. American Broadcasting Companies, Inc., 232 Cal. App.3d 991, 283 Cal.Rptr. 644, 651 (1991).

 

B

 

Globe argues that even if the front page headline could be found to be false and defamatory, the totality of the publication is not. Globe's position is that because the text of the accompanying story is not defamatory, the headline by itself cannot be the basis of a libel action under California law.

It is true that a defamatory meaning must be found, if at all, in a reading of the publication as a whole. See Stevens v. Storke, 191 Cal. 329, 216 P. 371, 373 (Cal. 1923)Selleck v. Globe International Inc., 166 Cal.App.3d 1123, 212 Cal.Rptr. 838, 843-44 (1985) (court must examine newspaper's headlines, caption, and article as a whole, looking "to what is explicitly stated as well as what insinuation and implication can be reasonably drawn from the publication"); Corman v. Blanchard, 211 Cal.App.2d 126, 27 Cal.Rptr. 327, 332 (1963) (examination of entire allegedly defamatory pamphlet necessary "to understand its import and the effect which it was intended to have on the reader"). This is a rule of reason. Defamation actions cannot be based on snippets taken out of context. By the same token, not every word of an allegedly defamatory publication has to be false and defamatory to sustain a libel action. See Masson, 501 U.S. at 510, 111 S.Ct. 2419 (interpreting California law, the Court explained, "[T]he test of libel is not quantitative; a single sentence may be the basis for an action in libel even though buried in a much longer text ....") (quoting Washburn v. Wright, 261 Cal.App.2d 789, 68 Cal.Rptr. 224, 228 (1968)).

Although California courts have not had occasion to opine on whether a headline alone can be the basis of a libel action, it is certainly clear under California law that headlines are not irrelevant, extraneous, or liability-free zones. They are essential elements of a publication. See Selleck, 212 Cal. Rptr. at 844Davis v. Hearst, 160 Cal. 143, 116 P. 530, 549 (Cal.1911).

In Selleck, for example, Globe published headlines, a caption to a photograph, and the text of an article, all of which created the false impression that the father of actor Tom Selleck had granted an interview to Globe. Selleck, 212 Cal.Rptr. at 841. While not addressing whether any one element of the publication alone would support a libel claim, the court explained that "[h]eadlines and captions of an allegedly libelous article are regarded as a part of the article." Id. at 844. The court concluded that "the article, including the headline and caption and taking into account the circumstances of its publication, is reasonably susceptible of a defamatory meaning on its face and therefore is libelous per se." Id. at 844 (emphasis added).

1041*1041 In Davis, 116 P. at 535, the Supreme Court of California concerned itself with three headlines that read as follows:

Mayor Investigates the Board of Education's Acts
Exposures Made by `Examiner' Found to be True
Pasadena Council Will Act

Although the article explained that the mayor's investigation covered only one matter, the court found that the text did not negate the effect of the headlines, which implied that the mayor had discovered more than one impropriety. It stated that "[t]he mere fact that in the body of the article the mayor's investigations are limited to a single charge is not controlling. The captions and headlines are themselves a part of the libel." Id. at 549.

As we held in Eastwood v. National Enquirer, Inc., 123 F.3d 1249, 1256 (9th Cir. 1997), a diversity case applying California law, a court must examine the totality of the circumstances of the publication. In Eastwood, we held that the publisher of the National Enquirer could be found to have defamed Clint Eastwood by falsely representing in a front page headline and in more subtle ways that he had consented to an exclusive interview with the paper. Id. Our conclusion was based not on any requirement that each part of the article be independently defamatory, but rather on the fact that the totality of the circumstances showed the editors' intent to mislead readers. Id.

Globe argues that the entirety of the publication, including the story itself, clears up any false and defamatory meaning that could be found on the cover. Whether it does or not is a question of fact for the jury. The Kaelin story was located 17 pages away from the cover. In this respect, the National Examiner's front page headline is unlike a conventional headline that immediately precedes a newspaper story, and nowhere does the cover headline reference the internal page where readers could locate the article. A reasonable juror could conclude that the Kaelin article was too far removed from the cover headline to have the salutary effect that Globe claims.

In Eastwood, we recognized the peculiar nature of front page headlines when we pointed out that "the editors falsely suggested to the ordinary reader of their publication — as well as those who merely glance at the headlines while waiting at the supermarket checkout counter — that Eastwood had willingly chatted with someone from the Enquirer." Eastwood, 123 F.3d at 1256 (emphasis added). Eastwood shows that in analyzing the totality of the circumstances of an allegedly defamatory publication, the effect of a front page headline is neither insignificant nor unprecedented. In any event, it is a fact question for a jury.

Other cases point in that direction as well. Empire Printing Co. v. Roden, 247 F.2d 8, 14 (9th Cir.1957), involved an article suggesting that public officials might have committed the crime of embezzlement under Alaska law. We cited Michigan law in stating that "[w]hat a newspaper article actually says or carries to its readers must be judged by the publication as a whole. The headlines alone may be enough to make libelous per se an otherwise innocuous article." (emphasis added). Discussing multiple headlines above inconsistent text, we said:

The fact that the text of the article under the heading relating to graft and corruption refers to a wholly different matter is a circumstance[ ] which the jury had a right to consider, but it did not compel them to ignore the very possible purpose sought in weaving all these headlines together, especially in view of the substantial evidence of actual malice on the part of the publishers. The jury could conclude that the headline was placed where it was for its effect upon the reader in connection with the other headlines.

Id. at 15.

Viewing the facts in the light most favorable to Kaelin as we are required to do, we hold that Kaelin has come forward with clear and convincing evidence to get to a jury on the issue of whether the headlines are susceptible of a false and defamatory meaning.

 

II

 

To defeat a motion for summary judgment, Kaelin also must come forward 1042*1042 with clear and convincing evidence that Globe published the defamatory statements with actual malice. Masson, 501 U.S. at 510, 111 S.Ct. 2419. The Supreme Court has defined actual malice as publication with the knowledge that a statement is false, or with a reckless disregard for truth or falsity. New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254, 280, 84 S.Ct. 710, 11 L.Ed.2d 686 (1964). "Mere negligence does not suffice. Rather, the plaintiff must demonstrate that the author `in fact entertained serious doubts as to the truth of his publication.'" Masson, 501 U.S. at 510, 111 S.Ct. 2419 (quoting St. Amant v. Thompson, 390 U.S. 727, 731, 88 S.Ct. 1323, 20 L.Ed.2d 262 (1968)). Actual malice also can be established by showing that the author "acted with `a high degree of awareness of ... probable falsity.'" Masson, 501 U.S. at 510, 111 S.Ct. 2419 (quoting Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U.S. 64, 74, 85 S.Ct. 209, 13 L.Ed.2d 125 (1964)). If a plaintiff can come forward with clear and convincing evidence from which a jury could find actual malice, he is entitled to a trial even if there is conflicting evidence on the issue. Anderson, 477 U.S. at 257, 106 S.Ct. 2505.

Kaelin has produced the following evidence from which we believe a reasonable juror could find actual malice:

First, Globe editor John Garton testified at his deposition that he saw the headline before it ran and did not think that it "was very accurate to the story." He stated that he was "a bit concerned" that readers might connect the "it" in the headline with the murders. This is direct evidence from which a reasonable juror could find that Globe knew that the headline was factually inaccurate or that Globe acted with reckless disregard for the truth. It is for a jury to decide whether, as Globe argues, it intended to clarify the sentence "COPS THINK KATO DID IT!" with the sentence that followed, "... he fears they want him for perjury, say pals." The editors' statements of their subjective intention are matters of credibility for a jury. See Eastwood, 123 F.3d at 1252.

Second, it is undisputed that Globe ran the headline "COPS THINK KATO DID IT!" knowing that it had no reason to believe that Kaelin was a murder suspect. This is not a case where Globe relied in good faith on information that turned out to be false. It is undisputed that Globe never believed Kaelin to be a suspect in the murders. The fact that Globe ran the headlines anyway — "act[ing] with a `high degree of awareness of ... probable falsity'" — is circumstantial evidence of actual malice. Masson, 501 U.S. at 510, 111 S.Ct. 2419 (quoting Garrison, 379 U.S. at 74, 85 S.Ct. 209see also Eastwood, 123 F.3d at 1253 ("As we have yet to see a defendant who admits to entertaining serious subjective doubt about the authenticity of an article it published, we must be guided by circumstantial evidence. By examining the editors' actions, we try to understand their motives.")).

Third, Garton testified at his deposition that "the front page of the tabloid paper is what we sell the paper on, not what's inside it." That testimony permits a reasonable juror to draw the inference that Globe had a pecuniary motive for running a headline that, in Garton's words, was not "very accurate to the story."

In Eastwood, we found "... from the totality of their choices, that the editors intended to convey the impression — known by them to be false — that Eastwood wilfully submitted to an interview by the Enquirer. This intentional conduct satisfies the `actual malice' standard, permitting a verdict for Eastwood." Eastwood, 123 F.3d at 1256 (emphasis added). The totality of Globe's choices permits the same sort of inference of intentional conduct here.

 

CONCLUSION

Because the issue at this stage of the case is only whether Kaelin has come forward with evidence adequate to survive summary judgment, we analyze the facts and draw the inferences in the light most favorable to him. We hold today that a reasonable juror could find, by clear and convincing evidence, that the headlines are defamatory, and that Globe's editors acted with actual malice in their decision to run a headline from which a reasonable juror could conclude that Kaelin was a murder suspect. Since we conclude 1043*1043 that Kaelin has come forward with evidence from which a jury could find clear and convincing proof of actual malice, Globe's motion for summary judgment should have been denied.

REVERSED AND REMANDED.

 

1044*1044 ATTACHMENT

 

1045*1045

[1] Copies of the front page and page 17 are appended to this opinion.

15.33 Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission 15.33 Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission

CITIZENS UNITED v. FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

No. 08-205.

Argued March 24, 2009 — Reargued September 9, 2009—

Decided January 21, 2010

*316Kennedy, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Roberts, C. J., and Scalia and Alito, JJ., joined, in which Thomas, J., joined as to all but Part IV, and in which Stevens, Ginsburg, Breyer, and Soto-mayor, JJ., joined as to Part IV. Roberts, C. J., filed a concurring opinion, in which Alito, J., joined, post, p. 372. Scalia, J., filed a concurring opinion, in which Alito, J., joined, and in which Thomas, J., joined in part, post, p. 385. Stevens, J., filed an opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part, in whieh Ginsburg, Breyer, and Sotomayor, JJ., joined, post, p. 393. Thomas, J., filed an opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part, post, p. 480.

Theodore B. Olson argued and reargued the cause for appellant. With him on the briefs were Matthew D. McGill, Amir C. Tayrani, and Michael Boos.

Floyd Abrams argued the cause for Senator Mitch McConnell as amicus curiae. With him on the brief was Susan Buckley.

Solicitor General Kagan reargued the cause for appellee. Deputy Solicitor General Stewart argued the cause for ap*317pellee on the original argument. With them on the briefs were then -Acting Solicitor General Kneedler, William M. Jay, Thomasenia P. Duncan, David Kolker, Kevin Deeley, and Adav Noti.

Seth P. Waxman argued the cause for Senator John McCain et al. as amici curiae urging affirmance. With him on the briefs were Randolph D. Moss, Roger M. Witten, Scott L. Nelson, Alan B. Morrison, Brian Wolf man, Trevor Potter, J. Gerald Hebert, Paul S. Ryan, Tara Malloy, Fred Wertheimer, and Donald J. Simon.*

*318Justice Kennedy

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Federal law prohibits corporations and unions from using their general treasury funds to make independent expendi*319tures for speech defined as an “electioneering communication” or for speech expressly advocating the election or defeat of a candidate. 2 U. S. C. § 441b. Limits on electioneering communications were upheld in McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 540 U. S. 93, 203-209 (2003). The holding of McConnell rested to a large extent on an earlier case, Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce, 494 U. S. 652 (1990). Austin had held that political speech may be banned based on the speaker’s corporate identity.

In this case we are asked to reconsider Austin and, in effect, McConnell. It has been noted that “Austin was a significant departure from ancient First Amendment principles,” Federal Election Comm’n v. Wisconsin Right to Life, Inc., 551 U. S. 449, 490 (2007) (WRTL) (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). We agree with that conclusion and hold that stare decisis does not compel the continued acceptance of Austin. The Government may regulate corporate political speech through disclaimer and disclosure requirements, but it may not suppress that speech altogether. We turn to the case now before us.

I

A

Citizens United is a nonprofit corporation. It brought this action in the United States District Court for the District of Columbia. A three-judge court later convened to hear the cause. The resulting judgment gives rise to this appeal.

Citizens United has an annual budget of about $12 million. Most of its funds are from donations by individuals; but, in addition, it accepts a small portion of its funds from for-profit corporations.

In January 2008, Citizens United released a film entitled Hillary: The Movie. We refer to the film as Hillary. It is a 90-minute documentary about then-Senator Hillary Clinton, who was a candidate in the Democratic Party’s 2008 Presidential primary elections. Hillary mentions Senator *320Clinton by name and depicts interviews with political commentators and other persons, most of them quite critical of Senator Clinton. Hillary was released in theaters and on DVD, but Citizens United wanted to increase distribution by making it available through video-on-demand.

Video-on-demand allows digital cable subscribers to select programming from various menus, including movies, television shows, sports, news, and music. The viewer can watch the program at any time and can elect to rewind or pause the program. In December 2007, a cable company offered, for a payment of $1.2 million, to make Hillary available on a video-on-demand channel called “Elections ’08.” App. 255a-257a. Some video-on-demand services require viewers to pay a small fee to view a selected program, but here the proposal was to make Hillary available to viewers free of charge.

To implement the proposal, Citizens United was prepared to pay for the video-on-demand; and to promote the film, it produced two 10-second ads and one 30-second ad for Hillary. Each ad includes a short (and, in our view, pejorative) statement about Senator Clinton, followed by the name of the movie and the movie’s Web site address. Id., at 26a-27a. Citizens United desired to promote the video-on-demand offering by running advertisements on broadcast and cable television.

B

Before the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA), federal law prohibited — and still does prohibit— corporations and unions from using general treasury funds to make direct contributions to candidates or independent expenditures that expressly advocate the election or defeat of a candidate, through any form of media, in connection with certain qualified federal elections. 2 U. S. C. § 441b (2000 ed.); see McConnell, supra, at 204, and n. 87; Federal Election Comm’n v. Massachusetts Citizens for Life, Inc., 479 U.S. 238, 249 (1986) (MCFL). BCRA §203 amended *321§441b to prohibit any “electioneering communication” as well. 2 U. S. C. §441b(b)(2) (2006 ed.). An electioneering communication is defined as “any broadcast, cable, or satellite communication” that “refers to a clearly identified candidate for Federal office” and is made within 30 days of a primary or 60 days of a general election. § 434(f)(3)(A). The Federal Election Commission’s (FEC) regulations further define an electioneering communication as a communication that is “publicly distributed.” 11 CFR § 100.29(a)(2) (2009). “In the case of a candidate for nomination for President... publicly distributed means” that the communication “[c]an be received by 50,000 or more persons in a State where a primary election ... is being held within 30 days.” § 100.29(b)(3)(ii)(A). Corporations and unions are barred from using their general treasury funds for express advocacy or electioneering communications. They may establish, however, a “separate segregated fund” (known as a political action committee, or PAC) for these purposes. 2 U. S. C. § 441b(b)(2). The moneys received by the segregated fund are limited to donations from stockholders and employees of the corporation or, in the case of unions, members of the union. Ibid.

C

Citizens United wanted to make Hillary available through video-on-demand within 30 days of the 2008 primary elections. It feared, however, that both the film and the ads would be covered by §441b’s ban on corporate-funded independent expenditures, thus subjecting the corporation to civil and criminal penalties under §437g. In December 2007, Citizens United sought declaratory and injunctive relief against the FEC. It argued that (1) §441b is unconstitutional as applied to Hillary; and (2) BCRA’s disclaimer and disclosure requirements, BCRA §§201 and 311, 116 Stat. 88, 105, are unconstitutional as applied to Hillary and to the three ads for the movie.

*322The District Court denied Citizens United’s motion for a preliminary injunction, 530 F. Supp. 2d 274 (DC 2008) (per curiam), and then granted the FEC’s motion for summary judgment, App. 261a-262a. See id., at 261a (“Based on the reasoning of our prior opinion, we find that the [FEC] is entitled to judgment as a matter of law. See Citizen[s] United v. FEC, 530 F. Supp. 2d 274 (D. D. C. 2008) (denying Citizens United’s request for a preliminary injunction)”). The court held that § 441b was facially constitutional under McConnell, and that §441b was constitutional as applied to Hillary because it was “susceptible of no other interpretation than to inform the electorate that Senator Clinton is unfit for office, that the United States would be a dangerous place in a President Hillary Clinton world, and that viewers should vote against her.” 530 F. Supp. 2d, at 279. The court also rejected Citizens United’s challenge to BCRA’s disclaimer and disclosure requirements. It noted that “the Supreme Court has written approvingly of disclosure provisions triggered by political speech even though the speech itself was constitutionally protected under the First Amendment.” Id., at 281.

We noted probable jurisdiction. 555 U. S. 1028 (2008). The case was reargued in this Court after the Court asked the parties to file supplemental briefs addressing whether we should overrule either or both Austin and the part of McConnell which addresses the facial validity of 2 U. S. C. § 441b. See 557 U. S. 932 (2009).

II

Before considering whether Austin should be overruled, we first address whether Citizens United’s claim that § 441b cannot be applied to Hillary may be resolved on other, narrower grounds.

A

Citizens United contends that § 441b does not cover Hillary, as a matter of statutory interpretation, because the film *323does not qualify as an “electioneering communication.” §441b(b)(2). Citizens United raises this issue for the first time before us, but we consider the issue because “it was addressed by the court below.” Lebron v. National Railroad Passenger Corporation, 513 U. S. 374, 379 (1995); see 530 F. Supp. 2d, at 277, n. 6. Under the definition of electioneering communication, the video-on-demand showing of Hillary on cable television would have been a “cable . . . communication” that “referred] to a clearly identified candidate for Federal office” and that was made within 30 days of a primary election. 2 U. S. C. §434(f)(3)(A)(i). Citizens United, however, argues that Hillary was not “publicly distributed,” because a single video-on-demand transmission is sent only to a requesting cable converter box and each separate transmission, in most instances, will be seen by just one household — not 50,000 or more persons. 11 CFR § 100.29(a)(2); see § 100.29(b)(3)(ii).

This argument ignores the regulation’s instruction on how to determine whether a cable transmission “[c]an be received by 50,000 or more persons.” § 100.29(b)(3)(ii). The regulation provides that the number of people who can receive a cable transmission is determined by the number of cable subscribers in the relevant area. §§ 100.29(b)(7)(i)(G), (ii). Here, Citizens United wanted to use a cable video-on-demand system that had 34.5 million subscribers nationwide. App. 256a. Thus, Hillary could have been received by 50,000 persons or more.

One amici brief asks us, alternatively, to construe the condition that the communication “[c]an be received by 50,000 or more persons,” § 100.29(b)(3)(ii)(A), to require “a plausible likelihood that the communication will be viewed by 50,000 or more potential voters” — as opposed to requiring only that the communication is “technologically capable” of being seen by that many people, Brief for Former Officials of the American Civil Liberties Union 5. Whether the population and demographic statistics in a proposed viewing area consisted *324of 50,000 registered voters — but not “infants, pre-teens, or otherwise electorally ineligible recipients” — would be a required determination, subject to judicial challenge and review, in any case where the issue was in doubt. Id., at 6.

In our view the statute cannot be saved by limiting the reach of 2 U. S. C. § 441b through this suggested interpretation. In addition to the costs and burdens of litigation, this result would require a calculation as to the number of people a particular communication is likely to reach, with an inaccurate estimate potentially subjecting the speaker to criminal sanctions. The First Amendment does not permit laws that force speakers to retain a campaign finance attorney, conduct demographic marketing research, or seek declaratory rulings before discussing the most salient political issues of our day. Prolix laws chill speech for the same reason that vague laws chill speech: People “of common intelligence must necessarily guess at [the law’s] meaning and differ as to its application.” Connally v. General Constr. Co., 269 U. S. 385, 391 (1926). The Government may not render a ban on political speech constitutional by carving out a limited exemption through an amorphous regulatory interpretation. We must reject the approach suggested by the amici. Section 441b covers Hillary.

B

Citizens United next argues that § 441b may not be applied to Hillary under the approach taken in WRTL. McConnell decided that §441b(b)(2)’s definition of an “electioneering communication” was facially constitutional insofar as it restricted speech that was “the functional equivalent of express advocacy” for or against a specific candidate. 540 U. S., at 206. WRTL then found an unconstitutional application of § 441b where the speech was not “express advocacy or its functional equivalent.” 551 U. S., at 481 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.). As explained by The Chief Justice’s controlling opinion in WRTL, the fimctional-equivalent test is objective: “[A] court should find that [a communication] is *325the functional equivalent of express advocacy only if [it] is susceptible of no reasonable interpretation other than as an appeal to vote for or against a specific candidate.” Id., at 469-470.

Under this test, Hillary is equivalent to express advocacy. The movie, in essence, is a feature-length negative advertisement that urges viewers to vote against Senator Clinton for President. In light of historical footage, interviews with persons critical of her, and voiceover narration, the film would be understood by most viewers as an extended criticism of Senator Clinton’s character and her fitness for the office of the Presidency. The narrative may contain more suggestions and arguments than facts, but there is little doubt that the thesis of the film is that she is unfit for the Presidency. The movie concentrates on alleged wrongdoing during the Clinton administration, Senator Clinton’s qualifications and fitness for office, and policies the commentators predict she would pursue if elected President. It calls Senator Clinton “Machiavellian,” App. 64a, and asks whether she is “the most qualified to hit the ground running if elected President,” id., at 88a. The narrator reminds viewers that “Americans have never been keen on dynasties” and that “a vote for Hillary is a vote to continue 20 years of a Bush or a Clinton in the White House,” id., at 143a-144a.

Citizens United argues that Hillary is just “a documentary film that examines certain historical events.” Brief for Appellant 35. We disagree. The movie’s consistent emphasis is on the relevance of these events to Senator Clinton’s candidacy for President. The narrator begins by asking “could [Senator Clinton] become the first female President in the history of the United States?” App. 35a. And the narrator reiterates the movie’s message in his closing line: “Finally, before America decides on our next president, voters should need no reminders of . . . what’s at stake — the well being and prosperity of our nation.” Id., at 144a-145a.

*326As the District Court found, there is no reasonable inter-. pretation of Hillary other than as an appeal to vote against Senator Clinton. Under the standard stated in McConnell and further elaborated in WRTL, the film qualifies as the functional equivalent of express advocacy.

C

Citizens United further contends that § 441b should be invalidated as applied to movies shown through video-on-demand, arguing that this delivery system has a lower risk of distorting the political process than do television ads. Cf. McConnell, supra, at 207. On what we might call conventional television, advertising spots reach viewers who have chosen a channel or a program for reasons unrelated to the advertising. With video-on-demand, by contrast, the viewer selects a program after taking “a series of affirmative steps”: subscribing to cable; navigating through various menus; and selecting the program. See Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union, 521 U. S. 844, 867 (1997).

While some means of communication may be less effective than others at influencing the public in different contexts, any effort by the Judiciary to decide which means of communications are to be preferred for the particular type of message and speaker would raise questions as to the courts’ own lawful authority. Substantial questions would arise if courts were to begin saying what means of speech should be preferred or disfavored. And in all events, those differentiations might soon prove to be irrelevant or outdated by technologies that are in rapid flux. See Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 512 U. S. 622, 639 (1994).

Courts, too, are bound by the First Amendment. We must decline to draw, and then redraw, constitutional lines based on the particular media or technology used to disseminate political speech from a particular speaker. It must be noted, moreover, that this undertaking would require substantial litigation over an extended time, all to interpret a *327law that beyond doubt discloses serious First Amendment flaws. The interpretive process itself would create an inevitable, pervasive, and serious risk of chilling protected speech pending the drawing of fine distinctions that, in the end, would themselves be questionable. First Amendment standards, however, “must give the benefit of any doubt to protecting rather than stifling speech.” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 469 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (citing New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 269-270 (1964)).

D

Citizens United also asks us to carve out an exception to §441b’s expenditure ban for nonprofit corporate political speech funded overwhelmingly by individuals. As an alternative to reconsidering Austin, the Government also seems to prefer this approach. This line of analysis, however, would be unavailing.

In MCFL, the Court found unconstitutional §441b’s restrictions on corporate expenditures as applied to nonprofit corporations that were formed for the sole purpose of promoting political ideas, did not engage in business activities, and did not accept contributions from for-profit corporations or labor unions. 479 U. S., at 263-264; see also 11 CFR §114.10. BCRA’s so-called Wellstone Amendment applied §441b’s expenditure ban to all nonprofit corporations. See 2 U. S. C. §441b(e)(6); McConnell, 540 U. S., at 209. McConnell then interpreted the Wellstone Amendment to retain the MCFL exemption to §441b’s expenditure prohibition. 540 U. S., at 211. Citizens United does not qualify for the MCFL exemption, however, since some funds used to make the movie were donations from for-profit corporations.

The Government suggests we could find BCRA’s Wellstone Amendment unconstitutional, sever it from the statute, and hold that Citizens United’s speech is exempt from §441b’s ban under BCRA’s Snowe-Jeffords Amendment, §441b(c)(2). See Tr. of Oral Arg. 37-38 (Sept. 9, 2009). The Snowe-Jeffords Amendment operates as a backup provision that *328only takes effect if the Wellstone Amendment is invalidated. See McConnell, supra, at 339 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). The Snowe-Jeffords Amendment would exempt from § 44 lb’s expenditure ban the political speech of certain nonprofit corporations if the speech were funded “exclusively” by individual donors and the funds were maintained in a segregated account. §441b(c)(2). Citizens United would not qualify for the Snowe-Jeffords exemption, under its terms as written, because Hillary was funded in part with donations from for-profit corporations.

Consequently, to hold for Citizens United on this argument, the Court would be required to revise the text of MCFL, sever BCRA’s Wellstone Amendment, §441b(c)(6), and ignore the plain text of BCRA’s Snowe-Jeffords Amendment, §441b(c)(2). If the Court decided to create a de minimis exception to MCFL or the Snowe-Jeffords Amendment, the result would be to allow for-profit corporate general treasury funds to be spent for independent expenditures that support candidates. There is no principled basis for doing this without rewriting Austin’s holding that the Government can restrict corporate independent expenditures for political speech.

Though it is true that the Court should construe statutes as necessary to avoid constitutional questions, the series of steps suggested would be difficult to take in view of the language of the statute. In addition to those difficulties the Government’s suggestion is troubling for still another reason. The Government does not say that it agrees with the interpretation it wants us to consider. See Supp. Brief for Appellee 3, n. 1 (“Some courts” have implied a de minimis exception, and “appellant would appear to be covered by these decisions”). Presumably it would find textual difficulties in this approach too. The Government, like any party, can make arguments in the alternative; but it ought to say if there is merit to an alternative proposal instead of *329merely suggesting it. This is especially true in the context of the First Amendment. As the Government stated, this case “would require a remand” to apply a de minimis standard. Tr. of Oral Arg. 39 (Sept. 9, 2009). Applying this standard would thus require case-by-case determinations. But archetypical political speech would be chilled in the meantime. “'First Amendment freedoms need breathing space to survive.’” WRTL, supra, at 468-469 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (quoting NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433 (1963)). We decline to adopt an interpretation that requires intricate case-by-case determinations to verify whether political speech is banned, especially if we are convinced that, in the end, this corporation has a constitutional right to speak on this subject.

E

As the foregoing analysis confirms, the Court cannot resolve this ease on a narrower ground without chilling political speech, speech that is central to the meaning and purpose of the First Amendment. See Morse v. Frederick, 551 U. S. 393, 403 (2007). It is not judicial restraint to accept an unsound, narrow argument just so the Court can avoid another argument with broader implications. Indeed, a court would be remiss in performing its duties were it to accept an unsound principle merely to avoid the necessity of making a broader ruling. Here, the lack of a valid basis for an alternative ruling requires full consideration of the continuing effect of the speech suppression upheld in Austin.

Citizens United stipulated to dismissing count 5 of its complaint, which raised a facial challenge to § 441b, even though count 3 raised an as-applied challenge. See App. 23a (count 3: “As applied to Hillary, [§ 441b] is unconstitutional under the First Amendment guarantees of free expression and association”). The Government argues that Citizens United waived its challenge to Austin by dismissing count 5. We disagree.

*330First, even if a party could somehow waive a facial challenge while preserving an as-applied challenge, that would not prevent the Court from reconsidering Austin or addressing the facial validity of § 441b in this case. “Our practice 'permit[s] review of an issue not pressed [below] so long as it has been passed upon . . . .’” Lebron, 513 U. S., at 379 (quoting United States v. Williams, 504 U. S. 36, 41 (1992); first alteration in original). And here, the District Court addressed Citizens United’s facial challenge. See 530 F. Supp. 2d, at 278 (“Citizens wants us to enjoin the operation of BCEA § 203 as a facially unconstitutional burden on the First Amendment right to freedom of speech”). In rejecting the claim, it noted that it “would have to overrule McConnell” for Citizens United to prevail on its facial challenge and that “[o]nly the Supreme Court may overrule its decisions.” Ibid, (citing Rodriguez de Quijas v. Shearson/American Express, Inc., 490 U. S. 477, 484 (1989)). The District Court did not provide much analysis regarding the facial challenge because it could not ignore the controlling Supreme Court decisions in Austin and McConnell. Even so, the District Court did '"pas[s] upon’” the issue. Lebron, supra, at 379. Furthermore, the District Court’s later opinion, which granted the FEC summary judgment, was “[b]ased on the reasoning of [its] prior opinion,” which included the discussion of the facial challenge. App. 261a (citing 530 F. Supp. 2d 274). After the District Court addressed the facial validity of the statute, Citizens United raised its challenge to Austin in this Court. See Brief for Appellant 30 ('Austin was wrongly decided and should be overruled”); id., at 30-32. In these circumstances, it is necessary to consider Citizens United’s challenge to Austin and the facial validity of § 441b’s expenditure ban.

Second, throughout the litigation, Citizens United has asserted a claim that the FEC has violated its First Amendment right to free speech. All concede that this claim is properly before us. And “ '[o]nce a federal claim is properly *331presented, a party can make any argument in support of that claim; parties are not limited to the precise arguments they made below.’ ” Lebron, supra, at 379 (quoting Yee v. Escondido, 503 U. S. 519, 534 (1992); alteration in original). Citizens United’s argument that Austin should be overruled is "not a new claim.” Lebron, 513 U. S., at 379. Rather, it is — at most — “a new argument to support what has been [a] consistent claim: that [the FEC] did not accord [Citizens United] the rights it was obliged to provide by the First Amendment.” Ibid.

Third, the distinction between facial and as-applied challenges is not so well defined that it has some automatic effect or that it must always control the pleadings and disposition in every case involving a constitutional challenge. The distinction is both instructive and necessary, for it goes to the breadth of the remedy employed by the Court, not what must be pleaded in a complaint. See United States v. Treasury Employees, 513 U. S. 454, 477-478 (1995) (contrasting “a facial challenge” with “a narrower remedy”). The parties cannot enter into a stipulation that prevents the Court from considering certain remedies if those remedies are necessary to resolve a claim that has been preserved. Citizens United has preserved its First Amendment challenge to §441b as applied to the facts of its case; and given all the circumstances, we cannot easily address that issue without assuming a premise — the permissibility of restricting corporate political speech — that is itself in doubt. See Fallon, As-Applied and Facial Challenges and Third-Party Standing, 113 Harv. L. Rev. 1321, 1339 (2000) (“[0]nce a case is brought, no general categorical line bars a court from making broader pronouncements of invalidity in properly ‘as-applied’ cases”); id., at 1327-1328. As our request for supplemental briefing implied, Citizens United’s claim implicates the validity of Austin, which in turn implicates the facial validity of §441b.

When the statute now at issue came before the Court in McConnell, both the majority and the dissenting opinions *332considered the question of its facial validity. The holding and validity of Austin were essential to the reasoning of the McConnell majority opinion, which upheld BCRA’s extension of § 441b. See 540 U. S., at 205 (quoting Austin, 494 U. S., at 660). McConnell permitted federal felony punishment for speech by all corporations, including nonprofit ones, that speak on prohibited subjects shortly before federal elections. See 540 U. S., at 203-209. Four Members of the McConnell Court would have overruled Austin, including Chief Justice Rehnquist, who had joined the Court’s opinion in Austin but reconsidered that conclusion. See 540 U. S., at 256-262 (Scalia, J., concurring in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part); id., at 273-275 (Thomas, J., concurring in part, concurring in result in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part); id., at 322-338 (opinion of Kennedy, J., joined by Rehnquist, C. J., and Scalia, J.). That inquiry into the facial validity of the statute was facilitated by the extensive record, which was “over 100,000 pages” long, made in the three-judge District Court. McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 251 F. Supp. 2d 176, 209 (DC 2003) (per curiam) (McConnell I). It is not the case, then, that the Court today is premature in interpreting § 441b “ ‘on the basis of [a] factually barebones recor[d].’” Washington State Grange v. Washington State Republican Party, 552 U. S. 442, 450 (2008) (quoting Sabri v. United States, 541 U. S. 600, 609 (2004)).

The McConnell majority considered whether the statute was facially invalid. An as-applied challenge was brought in Wisconsin Right to Life, Inc. v. Federal Election Comm’n, 546 U. S. 410, 411-412 (2006) (per curiam), and the Court confirmed that the challenge could be maintained. Then, in WRTL, the controlling opinion of the Court not only entertained an as-applied challenge but also sustained it. Three Justices noted that they would continue to maintain the position that the record in McConnell demonstrated the invalidity of the Act on its face. 551 U. S., at 485-504 (opinion of *333Scaua, J.). The controlling opinion in WRTL, which refrained from holding the statute invalid except as applied to the facts then before the Court, was a careful attempt to accept the-essential elements of the Court’s opinion in McConnell, while vindicating the First Amendment arguments made by the WRTL parties. 551 U. S., at 482 (opinion of Koberts, C. J.).

As noted above, Citizens United’s narrower arguments are not sustainable under a fair reading of the statute. In the exercise of its judicial responsibility, it is necessary then for the Court to consider the facial validity of § 441b. Any other course of decision would prolong the substantial, nationwide chilling effect caused by §441b’s prohibitions on corporate expenditures. Consideration of the facial validity of § 441b is further supported by the following reasons.

First is the uncertainty caused by the litigating position of the Government. As discussed above, see Part II-D, supra, the Government suggests, as an alternative argument, that an as-applied challenge might have merit. This argument proceeds on the premise that the nonprofit corporation involved here may have received only de minimis donations from for-profit corporations and that some nonprofit corporations may be exempted from the operation of the statute. The Government also suggests that an as-applied challenge to §441b’s ban on books may be successful, although it would defend §441b’s ban as applied to almost every other form of media including pamphlets. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 65-66 (Sept. 9, 2009). The Government thus, by its own position, contributes to the uncertainty that §441b causes. When the Government holds out the possibility of ruling for Citizens United on a narrow ground yet refrains from adopting that position, the added uncertainty demonstrates the necessity to address the question of statutory validity.

Second, substantial time would be required to bring clarity to the application of the statutory provision on these points *334in order to avoid any chilling effect caused by some improper interpretation. See Part IX-C, supra. It is well known that the public begins to concentrate on elections only in the weeks immediately before they are held. There are short timeframes in which speech can have influence. The need or relevance of the speech will often first be apparent at this stage in the campaign. The decision to speak is made in the heat of political campaigns, when speakers react to messages conveyed by others. A speaker’s ability to engage in political speech that could have a chance of persuading voters is stifled if the speaker must first commence a protracted lawsuit. By the time the lawsuit concludes, the election will be over and the litigants in most cases will have neither the incentive nor, perhaps, the resources to carry on, even if they could establish that the case is not moot because the issue is “capable of repetition, yet evading review.” WRTL, supra, at 462 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (citing Los Angeles v. Lyons, 461 U. S. 95, 109 (1983); Southern Pacific Terminal Co. v. ICC, 219 U. S. 498, 515 (1911)). Here, Citizens United decided to litigate its case to the end. Today, Citizens United finally learns, two years after the fact, whether it could have spoken during the 2008 Presidential primary— long after the opportunity to persuade primary voters has passed.

Third is the primary importance of speech itself to the integrity of the election process. As additional rules are created for regulating political speech, any speech arguably within their reach is chilled. See Part II-A, supra. Campaign finance regulations now impose “unique and complex rules” on “71 distinct entities.” Brief for Seven Former Chairmen of FEC et al. as Amici Curiae 11-12. These entities are subject to separate rules for 33 different types of political speech. Id., at 14-15, n. 10. The FEC has adopted 568 pages of regulations, 1,278 pages of explanations and justifications for those regulations, and 1,771 advisory opinions since 1975. See id., at 6, n. 7. In fact, after this Court in *335WBTL adopted an objective “appeal to vote” test for determining whether a communication was the functional equivalent of express advocacy, 551 U. S., at 470 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.), the FEC adopted a two-part, 11-factor balancing test to implement WRTL’s ruling. See 11 CFR §114.15; Brief for Wyoming Liberty Group et al. as Amici Curiae 17-27 (filed Jan. 15, 2009).

This regulatory scheme may not be a prior restraint on speech in the strict sense of that term, for prospective speakers are not compelled by law to seek an advisory opinion from the FEC before the speech takes place. Cf. Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U. S. 697, 712-713 (1931). As a practical matter, however, given the complexity of the regulations and the deference courts show to administrative determinations, a speaker who wants to avoid threats of criminal liability and the heavy costs of defending against FEC enforcement must ask a governmental agency for prior permission to speak. See 2 U. S. C. §437f; 11 CFR §112.1. These onerous restrictions thus function as the equivalent of prior restraint by giving the FEC power analogous to licensing laws implemented in 16th- and 17th-century England, laws and governmental practices of the sort that the First Amendment was drawn to prohibit. See Thomas v. Chicago Park Dist., 534 U. S. 316, 320 (2002); Lovell v. City of Griffin, 303 U. S. 444, 451-452 (1938); Near, supra, at 713-714. Because the EEC’s “business is to censor, there inheres the danger that [it] may well be less responsive than a court— part of an independent branch of government — to the constitutionally protected interests in free expression.” Freedman v. Maryland, 380 U. S. 51, 57-58 (1965). When the FEC issues advisory opinions that prohibit speech, “[m]any persons, rather than undertake the considerable burden (and sometimes risk) of vindicating their rights through case-by-case litigation, will choose simply to abstain from protected speech — harming not only themselves but society as a whole, which is deprived of an uninhibited marketplace of ideas.” *336Virginia v. Hicks, 539 U. S. 113, 119 (2003) (citation omitted). Consequently, “the censor’s determination may in practice be final.” Freedman, supra, at 58.

This is precisely what WBTL sought to avoid. WRTL said that First Amendment standards “must eschew ‘the open-ended rough-and-tumble of factors,’ which ‘invit[es] complex argument in a trial court and a virtually inevitable appeal.’ ” 551 U. S., at 469 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (quoting Jerome B. Grubart, Inc. v. Great Lakes Dredge & Dock Co., 513 U. S. 527, 547 (1995); alteration in original). Yet, the FEC has created a regime that allows it to select what political speech is safe for public consumption by applying ambiguous tests. If parties want to avoid litigation and the possibility of civil and criminal penalties, they must either refrain from speaking or ask the FEC to issue an advisory opinion approving of the political speech in question. Government officials pore over each word of a text to see if, in their judgment, it accords with the 11-factor test they have promulgated. This is an unprecedented governmental intervention into the realm of speech.

The ongoing chill upon speech that is beyond all doubt protected makes it necessary in this case to invoke the earlier precedents that a statute which chills speech can and must be invalidated where its facial invalidity has been demonstrated. See WRTL, supra, at 482-483 (Alito, J., concurring); Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 97-98 (1940). For these reasons we find it necessary to reconsider Austin.

III

The First Amendment provides that “Congress shall make no law... abridging the freedom of speech.” Laws enacted to control or suppress speech may operate at different points in the speech process. The following are just a few examples of restrictions that have been attempted at different stages of the speech process — all laws found to be invalid: restrictions requiring a permit at the outset, Watchtower *337Bible & Tract Soc. of N. Y., Inc. v. Village of Stratton, 536 U. S. 150, 153 (2002); imposing a burden by impounding proceeds on receipts or royalties, Simon & Schuster, Inc. v. Members of N. Y. State Crime Victims Bd., 502 U. S. 105, 108, 123 (1991); seeking to exact a cost after the speech occurs, New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S., at 267; and subjecting the speaker to criminal penalties, Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444, 445 (1969) (per curiam).

The law before us is an outright ban, backed by criminal sanctions. Section 441b makes it a felony for all corporations — including nonprofit advocacy corporations — either to expressly advocate the election or defeat of candidates or to broadcast electioneering communications within 30 days of a primary election and 60 days of a general election. Thus, the following acts would all be felonies under §441b: The Sierra Club runs an ad, within the crucial phase of 60 days before the general election, that exhorts the public to disapprove of a Congressman who favors logging in national forests; the National Rifle Association publishes a book urging the public to vote for the challenger because the incumbent U. S. Senator supports a handgun ban; and the American Civil Liberties Union creates a Web site telling the public to vote for a Presidential candidate in light of that candidate’s defense of free speech. These prohibitions are classic examples of censorship.

Section 441b is a ban on corporate speech notwithstanding the fact that a PAC created by a corporation can still speak. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 330-333 (opinion of Kennedy, J.). A PAC is a separate association from the corporation. So the PAC exemption from §441b’s expenditure ban, §441b(b)(2), does not allow corporations to speak. Even if a PAC could somehow allow a corporation to speak — and it does not — the option to form PACs does not alleviate the First Amendment problems with §441b. PACs are burdensome alternatives; they are expensive to administer and subject to extensive regulations. For example, every PAC *338must appoint a treasurer, forward donations to the treasurer promptly, keep detailed records of the identities of the persons making donations, preserve receipts for three years, and file an organization statement and report changes to this information within 10 days. See id., at 330-332 (quoting MCFL, 479 U. S., at 253-254 (opinion of Brennan, J.)).

And that is just the beginning: PACs must file detailed monthly reports with the FEC, which are due at different times depending on the type of election that is about to occur:

“ These reports must contain information regarding the amount of cash on hand; the total amount of receipts, detailed by 10 different categories; the identification of each political committee and candidate’s authorized or affiliated committee making contributions, and any persons making loans, providing rebates, refunds, dividends, or interest or any other offset to operating expenditures in an aggregate amount over $200; the total amount of all disbursements, detailed by 12 different categories; the names of all authorized or affiliated committees to whom expenditures aggregating over $200 have been made; persons to whom loan repayments or refunds have been made; the total sum of all contributions, operating expenses, outstanding debts and obligations, and the settlement terms of the retirement of any debt or obligation.’ ” 540 U. S., at 331-332 (quoting MCFL, supra, at 253-254).

PACs have to comply with these regulations just to speak. This might explain why fewer than 2,000 of the millions of corporations in this country have PACs. See Brief for Seven Former Chairmen of FEC et al. as Amici Curiae 11 (citing FEC, Summary of PAC Activity 1990-2006, online at http://www.fec.gov/press/press2007/20071009pac/sumhistory .pdf (as visited Jan. 18, 2010, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file)); IRS, Statistics of Income: 2006, Corporation In*339come Tax Returns 2 (2009) (hereinafter Statistics of Income) (5.8 million for-profit corporations filed 2006 tax returns). PACs, furthermore, must exist before they can speak. Given the onerous restrictions, a corporation may not be able to establish a PAC in time to make its views known regarding candidates and issues in a current campaign.

Section 441b’s prohibition on corporate independent expenditures is thus a ban on speech. As a “restriction on the amount of money a person or group can spend on political communication during a campaign,” that statute “necessarily reduces the quantity of expression by restricting the number of issues discussed, the depth of their exploration, and the size of the audience reached.” Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1, 19 (1976) (per curiam). Were the Court to uphold these restrictions, the Government could repress speech by silencing certain voices at any of the various points in the speech process. See McConnell, supra, at 251 (opinion of Scalia, J.) (Government could repress speech by “attacking all levels of the production and dissemination of ideas,” for “effective public communication requires the speaker to make use of the services of others”). If §441b applied to individuals, no one would believe that it is merely a time, place, or manner restriction on speech. Its purpose and effect are to silence entities whose voices the Government deems to be suspect.

Speech is an essential mechanism of democracy, for it is the means to hold officials accountable to the people. See Buckley, supra, at 14-15 (“In a republic where the people are sovereign, the ability of the citizenry to make informed choices among candidates for office is essential”). The right of citizens to inquire, to hear, to speak, and to use information to reach consensus is a precondition to enlightened self-government and a necessary means to protect it. The First Amendment “ 'has its fullest and most urgent application’ to speech uttered during a campaign for political office.” Eu v. San Francisco County Democratic Central Comm., 489 *340U. S. 214, 223 (1989) (quoting Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U. S. 265, 272 (1971)); see Buckley, supra, at 14 (“Discussion of public issues and debate on the qualifications of candidates are integral to the operation of the system of government established by our Constitution”).

For these reasons, political speech must prevail against laws that would suppress it, whether by design or inadvertence. Laws that burden political speech are “subject to strict scrutiny,” which requires the Government to prove that the restriction “furthers a compelling interest and is narrowly tailored to achieve that interest.” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 464 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.). While it might be maintained that political speech simply cannot be banned or restricted as a categorical matter, see Simon & Schuster, 502 U. S., at 124 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment), the quoted language from WRTL provides a sufficient framework for protecting the relevant First Amendment interests in this case. We shall employ it here.

Premised on mistrust of governmental power, the First Amendment stands against attempts to disfavor certain subjects or viewpoints. See, e. g., United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U. S. 803, 813 (2000) (striking dowm content-based restriction). Prohibited, too, are restrictions distinguishing among different speakers, allowing speech by some but not others. See First Nat. Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, 784 (1978). As instruments to censor, these categories are interrelated: Speech restrictions based on the identity of the speaker are all too often simply a means to control content.

Quite apart from the purpose or effect of regulating content, moreover, the Government may commit a constitutional wrong when by law it identifies certain preferred speakers. By taking the right to speak from some and giving it to others, the Government deprives the disadvantaged person or class of the right to use speech to strive to establish worth, *341standing, and respect for the speaker’s voice. The Government may not by these means deprive the public of the right and privilege to determine for itself what speech and speakers are worthy of consideration. The First Amendment protects speech and speaker, and the ideas that flow from each.

The Court has upheld a narrow class of speech restrictions that operate to the disadvantage of certain persons, but these rulings were based on an interest in allowing governmental entities to perform their functions. See, e. g., Bethel School Dist. No. 403 v. Fraser, 478 U. S. 675, 683 (1986) (protecting the “function of public school education”); Jones v. North Carolina Prisoners’ Labor Union, Inc., 433 U. S. 119, 129 (1977) (furthering “the legitimate penological objectives of the corrections system” (internal quotation marks omitted)); Parker v. Levy, 417 U. S. 733, 759 (1974) (ensuring “the capacity of the Government to discharge its [military] responsibilities” (internal quotation marks omitted)); Civil Service Comm’n v. Letter Carriers, 413 U. S. 548, 557 (1973) (“[F]ederal service should depend upon meritorious performance rather than political service”). The corporate independent expenditures at issue in this ease, however, would not interfere with governmental functions, so these cases are inapposite. These precedents stand only for the proposition that there are certain governmental functions that cannot operate without some restrictions on particular kinds of speech. By contrast, it is inherent in the nature of the political process that voters must be free to obtain information from diverse sources in order to determine how to cast their votes. At least before Austin, the Court had not allowed the exclusion of a class of speakers from the general public dialogue.

We find no basis for the proposition that, in the context of political speech, the Government may impose restrictions on certain disfavored speakers. Both history and logic lead us to this conclusion.

*342A

1

The Court has recognized that First Amendment protection extends to corporations. Bellotti, supra, at 778, n. 14 (citing Limnark Associates, Inc. v. Willingboro, 431 U. S. 85 (1977) ; Time, Inc. v. Firestone, 424 U. S. 448 (1976); Doran v. Salem Inn, Inc., 422 U. S. 922 (1975); Southeastern Promotions, Ltd. v. Conrad, 420 U. S. 546 (1975); Cox Broadcasting Corp. v. Cohn, 420 U. S. 469 (1975); Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, 418 U. S. 241 (1974); New York Times Co. v. United States, 403 U. S. 713 (1971) (per curiam); Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374 (1967); New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254; Kingsley Int’l Pictures Corp. v. Regents of Univ. of N. Y., 360 U. S. 684 (1959); Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson, 343 U. S. 495 (1952)); see, e. g., Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 520 U. S. 180 (1997); Denver Area Ed. Telecommunications Consortium, Inc. v. FCC, 518 U. S. 727 (1996); Turner, 512 U. S. 622; Simon & Schuster, 502 U. S. 105; Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U. S. 115 (1989); Florida Star v. B. J. F., 491 U. S. 524 (1989); Philadelphia Newspapers, Inc. v. Hepps, 475 U. S. 767 (1986); Landmark Communications, Inc. v. Virginia, 435 U. S. 829 (1978) ; Young v. American Mini Theatres, Inc., 427 U. S. 50 (1976); Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., 418 U. S. 323 (1974); Greenbelt Cooperative Publishing Assn., Inc. v. Bresler, 398 U. S. 6 (1970).

This protection has been extended by explicit holdings to the context of political speech. See, e. g., Button, 371 U. S., at 428-429; Grosjean v. American Press Co., 297 U. S. 233, 244 (1936). Under the rationale of these precedents, political speech does not lose First Amendment protection “simply because its source is a corporation.” Bellotti, supra, at 784; see Pacific Gas & Elec. Co. v. Public Util. Comm’n of Cal., 475 U. S. 1, 8 (1986) (plurality opinion) (“The identity of the speaker is not decisive in determining whether speech is pro*343tected. Corporations and other associations, like individuals, contribute to the ‘discussion, debate, and the dissemination of information and ideas’ that the First Amendment seeks to foster” (quoting Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 783)). The Court has thus rejected the argument that political speech of corporations or other associations should be treated differently under the First Amendment simply because such associations are not “natural persons.” Id., at 776; see id., at 780, n. 16. Cf. id., at 828 (Rehnquist, J., dissenting).

At least since the latter part of the 19th century, the laws of some States and of the United States imposed a ban on corporate direct contributions to candidates. See B. Smith, Unfree Speech: The Folly of Campaign Finance Reform 23 (2001). Yet not until 1947 did Congress first prohibit independent expenditures by corporations and labor unions in §304 of the Labor Management Relations Act, 1947, 61 Stat. 159 (codified at 2 U. S. C. §251 (1946 ed., Supp. I)). In passing this Act Congress overrode the veto of President Truman, who warned that the expenditure ban was a “dangerous intrusion on free speech.” Message from the President of the United States, H. R. Doc. No. 334, 80th Cong., 1st Sess., 9 (1947).

For almost three decades thereafter, the Court did not reach the question whether restrictions on corporate and union expenditures are constitutional. See WRTL, 551 U. S., at 502 (opinion of Scalia, J.). The question was in the background of United States v. CIO, 335 U. S. 106 (1948). There, a labor union endorsed a congressional candidate in its weekly periodical. The Court stated that “the gravest doubt would arise in our minds as to [the federal expenditure prohibition’s] constitutionality” if it were construed to suppress that writing. . Id., at 121. The Court engaged in statutory interpretation and found the statute did not cover the publication. Id., at 121-122, and n. 20. Four Justices, however, said they would reach the constitutional question and invalidate the Labor-Management Relations Act’s expendi*344ture ban. Id., at 155 (Rutledge, J., joined by Black, Douglas, and Murphy, JJ., concurring in result). The concurrence explained that any “ 'undue influence’ ” generated by a speaker’s “large expenditures” was outweighed “by the loss for democratic processes resulting from the restrictions upon free and full public discussion.” Id., at 143.

In United States v. Automobile Workers, 352 U. S. 567 (1957), the Court again encountered the independent expenditure ban, which had been recodified at 18 U. S. C. § 610 (1952 ed.). See 62 Stat. 723-724. After holding only that a union television broadcast that endorsed candidates was covered by the statute, the Court “[r]efus[ed] to anticipate constitutional questions” and remanded for the trial to proceed. 352 U. S., at 591. Three Justices dissented, arguing that the Court should have reached the constitutional question and that the ban on independent expenditures was unconstitutional:

“Under our Constitution it is We The People who are sovereign. The people have the final say. The legislators are their spokesmen. The people determine through their votes the destiny of the nation. It is therefore important — vitally important — that all channels of communication be open to them during every election, that no point of view be restrained or barred, and that the people have access to the views of every group in the community.” Id., at 593 (opinion of Douglas, J., joined by Warren, C. J., and Black, J.).

The dissent concluded that deeming a particular group “too powerful” was not a “justificatio[n] for withholding First Amendment rights from any group — labor or corporate.” Id., at 597. The Court did not get another opportunity to consider the constitutional question in that case; for after a remand, a jury found the defendants not guilty. See Hayward, Revisiting the Fable of Reform, 45 Harv. J. Legis. 421, 463 (2008).

*345Later, in Pipefitters v. United States, 407 U. S. 385, 400-401 (1972), the Court reversed a conviction for expenditure of union funds for political speech — again without reaching the constitutional question. The Court would not resolve that question for another four years.

2

In Buckley, 424 U. S. 1, the Court addressed various challenges to the Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (FECA) as amended in 1974. These amendments created 18 U. S. C. § 608(e) (1970 ed., Supp. V), see 88 Stat. 1265, an independent expenditure ban separate from §610 that applied to individuals as well as corporations and labor unions, Buckley, 424 U. S., at 23, 39, and n. 45.

Before addressing the constitutionality of §608(e)’s independent expenditure ban, Buckley first upheld § 608(b), FECA’s limits on direct contributions to candidates. The Buckley Court recognized a “sufficiently important” governmental interest in “the prevention of corruption and the appearance of corruption.” Id., at 25; see id., at 26. This followed from the Court’s concern that large contributions could be given “to secure a political quid pro quo.” Ibid.

The Buckley Court explained that the potential for quid pro quo corruption distinguished direct contributions to candidates from independent expenditures. The Court emphasized that “the independent expenditure ceiling . . . fails to serve any substantial governmental interest in stemming the reality or appearance of corruption in the electoral process,” id., at 47-48, because “[t]he absence of prearrangement and coordination ... alleviates the danger that expenditures will be given as a quid pro quo for improper commitments from the candidate,” id., at 47. Buckley invalidated § 608(e)’s restrictions on independent expenditures, with only one Justice dissenting. See Federal Election Comm’n v. National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S. 480, 491, n. 3 (1985) (NCPAC).

*346Buckley did not consider § 610’s separate ban on corporate and union independent expenditures, the prohibition that had also been in the background in CIO, Automobile Workers, and Pipefitters. Had § 610 been challenged in the wake of Buckley, however, it could not have been squared with the reasoning and analysis of that precedent. See WRTL, 551 U. S., at 487 (opinion of Scalia, J.) (“Buckley might well have been the last word on limitations on independent expenditures”); Austin, 494 U. S., at 683 (SCALIA, J., dissenting). The expenditure ban invalidated in Buckley, § 608(e), applied to corporations and unions, 424 U. S., at 23, 39, n. 45; and some of the prevailing plaintiffs in Buckley were corporations, id., at 8. The Buckley Court did not invoke the First Amendment’s overbreadth doctrine, see Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U. S. 601, 615 (1973), to suggest that § 608(e)’s expenditure ban would have been constitutional if it had applied only to corporations and not to individuals, 424 U. S., at 50. Buckley cited with approval the Automobile Workers dissent, which argued that §610 was unconstitutional. 424 U. S., at 43 (citing 352 U. S., at 595-596 (opinion of Douglas, J.)).

Notwithstanding this precedent, Congress recodified § 61Q’s corporate and union expenditure ban at 2 U. S. C. § 441b four months after Buckley was decided. See 90 Stat. 490. Section 441b is the independent expenditure restriction challenged here.

Less than two years after Buckley, Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, reaffirmed the First Amendment principle that the Government cannot restrict political speech based on the speaker’s corporate identity. Bellotti could not have been clearer when it struck down a state-law prohibition on corporate independent expenditures related to referenda issues:

“We thus find no support in the First... Amendment, or in the decisions of this Court, for the proposition that speech that otherwise would be within the protection of the First Amendment loses that protection simply be*347cause its source is a corporation that cannot prove, to the satisfaction of a court, a material effect on its business or property. . . . [That proposition] amounts to an impermissible legislative prohibition of speech based on the identity of the interests that spokesmen may represent in public debate over controversial issues and a requirement that the speaker have a sufficiently great interest in the subject to justify communication.
“In the realm of protected speech, the legislature is constitutionally disqualified from dictating the subjects about which persons may speak and the speakers who may address a public issue.” Id., at 784-785.

It is important to note that the reasoning and holding of Bellotti did not rest on the existence of a viewpoint-discriminatory statute. It rested on the principle that the Government lacks the power to ban corporations from speaking.

Bellotti did not address the constitutionality of the State’s ban on corporate independent expenditures to support candidates. In our view, however, that restriction would have been unconstitutional under Bellotti’s central principle: that the First Amendment does not allow political speech restrictions based on a speaker’s corporate identity. See ibid.

3

Thus the law stood until Austin. Austin “uph[eld] a direct restriction on the independent expenditure of funds for political speech for the first time in [this Court’s] history.” 494 U. S., at 695 (Kennedy, J., dissenting). There, the Michigan Chamber of Commerce sought to use general treasury funds to run a newspaper ad supporting a specific candidate. Michigan law, however, prohibited corporate independent expenditures that supported or opposed any candidate for state office. A violation of the law was punishable as a felony. The Court sustained the speech prohibition.

*348To bypass Buckley and Bellotti, the Austin Court identified a new governmental interest in limiting political speech: an antidistortion interest. Austin found a compelling governmental interest in preventing “the corrosive and distorting effects of immense aggregations of wealth that are accumulated with the help of the corporate form and that have little or no correlation to the public’s support for the corporation’s political ideas.” 494 U. S., at 660; see id., at 659 (citing MCFL, 479 U. S., at 257; NCPAC, 470 U. S., at 500-501).

B

The Court is thus confronted with conflicting lines of precedent: a pre-Austin line that forbids restrictions on political speech based on the speaker’s corporate identity and a post-Austin line that permits them. No case before Austin had held that Congress could prohibit independent expenditures for political speech based on the speaker’s corporate identity. Before Austin, Congress had enacted legislation for this purpose, and the Government urged the same proposition before this Court. See MCFL, supra, at 257 (FEC posited that Congress intended to “curb the political influence of ‘those who exercise control over large aggregations of capital’” (quoting Automobile Workers, 352 U. S., at 585)); California Medical Assn. v. Federal Election Comm’n, 453 U. S. 182, 201 (1981) (Congress believed that “differing structures and purposes” of corporations and unions “may require different forms of regulation in order to protect the integrity of the electoral process”). In neither of these cases did the Court adopt the proposition.

In its defense of the corporate-speech restrictions in § 441b, the Government notes the antidistortion rationale on which Austin and its progeny rest in part, yet it all but abandons reliance upon it. It argues instead that two other compelling interests support Austin’s holding that corporate expenditure restrictions are constitutional: an anticorruption interest, see 494 U. S., at 678 (Stevens, J., concurring), and *349a shareholder-protection interest, see id., at 674-675 (Brennan, J., concurring). We consider the three points in turn.

1

As for Austin’s antidistortion rationale, the Government does little to defend it. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 45-48 (Sept. 9, 2009). And with good reason, for the rationale cannot support §441b.

If the First Amendment has any force, it prohibits Congress from fining or jailing citizens, or associations of citizens, for simply engaging in political speech. If the antidistortion rationale were to be accepted, however, it would permit Government to ban political speech simply because the speaker is an association that has taken on the corporate form. The Government contends that Austin permits it to ban corporate expenditures for almost all forms of communication stemming from a corporation. See Part II-E, supra; Tr. of Oral Arg. 66 (Sept. 9,2009); see also id., at 26-81 (Mar. 24, 2009). If Austin were correct, the Government could prohibit a corporation from expressing political views in media beyond those presented here, such as by printing books. The Government responds “that the FEC has never applied this statute to a book,” and if it did, “there would be quite [a] good as-applied challenge.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 65 (Sept. 9,2009). This troubling assertion of brooding governmental power cannot be reconciled with the confidence and stability in civic discourse that the First Amendment must secure.

Political speech is “indispensable to decisionmaking in a democracy, and this is no less true because the speech comes from a corporation rather than an individual.” Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 777 (footnote omitted); see ibid, (the worth of speech “does not depend upon the identity of its source, whether corporation, association, union, or individual”); Buckley, 424 U. S., at 48-49 (“[T]he concept that government may restrict the speech of some elements of our society in order to en*350hance the relative voice of others is wholly foreign to the First Amendment”); Automobile Workers, supra, at 597 (Douglas, J., dissenting); CIO, 335 U. S., at 154-155 (Rutledge, J., concurring in result). This protection for speech is inconsistent with Austin’s antidistortion rationale. Austin sought to defend the antidistortion rationale as a means to prevent corporations from obtaining “'an unfair advantage in the political marketplace’ ” by using “ ‘resources amassed in the economic marketplace.’ ” 494 U. S., at 659 (quoting MCFL, supra, at 257). But Buckley rejected the premise that the Government has an interest “in equalizing the relative ability of individuals and groups to influence the outcome of elections.” 424 U. S., at 48; see Bellotti, supra, at 791, n. 30. Buckley was specific in stating that “the skyrocketing cost of political campaigns” could not sustain the governmental prohibition. 424 U. S., at 26. The First Amendment’s protections do not depend on the speaker’s “financial ability to engage in public discussion.” Id., at 49.

The Court reaffirmed these conclusions when it invalidated the BCRA provision that increased the cap on contributions to one candidate if the opponent made certain expenditures from personal funds. See Davis v. Federal Election Comm’n, 554 U. S. 724, 742 (2008) (“Leveling electoral opportunities means making and implementing judgments about which strengths should be permitted to contribute to the outcome of an election. The Constitution, however, confers upon voters, not Congress, the power to choose the Members of the House of Representatives, Art. I, § 2, and it is a dangerous business for Congress to use the election laws to influence the voters’ choices”). The rule that political speech cannot be limited based on a speaker’s wealth is a necessary consequence of the premise that the First Amendment generally prohibits the suppression of political speech based on the speaker’s identity.

Either as support for its antidistortion rationale or as a further argument, the Austin majority undertook to distin*351guish wealthy individuals from corporations on the ground that “[s]tate law grants corporations special advantages— such as limited liability, perpetual life, and favorable treatment of the accumulation and distribution of assets.” 494 U. S., at 658-659. This does not suffice, however, to allow laws prohibiting speech. “It is rudimentary that the State cannot exact as the price of those special advantages the forfeiture of First Amendment rights.” Id., at 680 (Scalia, J., dissenting).

It is irrelevant for purposes of the First Amendment that corporate funds may “have little or no correlation to the public’s support for the corporation’s political ideas.” Id., at 660 (majority opinion). All speakers, including individuals and the media, use money amassed from the economic marketplace to fund their speech. The First Amendment protects the resulting speech, even if it was enabled by economic transactions with persons or entities who disagree with the speaker’s ideas. See id., at 707 (Kennedy, J., dissenting) (“Many persons can trace their funds to corporations, if not in the form of donations, then in the form of dividends, interest, or salary”).

Austin’s antidistortion rationale would produce the dangerous, and unacceptable, consequence that Congress could ban political speech of media corporations. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 283 (opinion of Thomas, J.) (“The chilling endpoint of the Court’s reasoning is not difficult to foresee: outright regulation of the press”). Cf. Tornillo, 418 U. S., at 250 (alleging the existence of “vast accumulations of unreviewable power in the modern media empires”). Media corporations are now exempt from §441b’s ban on corporate expenditures. See 2 U. S. C. §§ 431(9)(B)(i), 434(f)(3)(B)(i). Yet media corporations accumulate wealth with the help of the corporate form, the largest media corporations have “immense aggregations of wealth,” and the views expressed by media corporations often “have little or no correlation to the public’s support” for those views. Austin, 494 U. S., at 660. *352Thus, under the Government’s reasoning, wealthy media corporations could have their voices diminished to put them on par with other media entities. There is no precedent for permitting this under the First Amendment.

The media exemption discloses further difficulties with the law now under consideration. There is no precedent supporting laws that attempt to distinguish between corporations which are deemed to be exempt as media corporations and those which are not. “We have consistently rejected the proposition that the institutional press has any constitutional privilege beyond that of other speakers.” Id., at 691 (Scalia, J., dissenting) (citing Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 782); see Dun & Bradstreet, Inc. v. Greenmoss Builders, Inc., 472 U. S. 749, 784 (1985) (Brennan, J., joined by Marshall, Blackmun, and Stevens, JJ., dissenting); id., at 773 (White, J., concurring in judgment). With the advent of the Internet and the decline of print and broadcast media, moreover, the line between the media and others who wish to comment on political and social issues becomes far more blurred.

The law’s exception for media corporations is, on its own terms, all but an admission of the invalidity of the antidistortion rationale. And the exemption results in a further, separate reason for finding this law invalid: Again by its own terms, the law exempts some corporations but covers others, even though both have the need or the motive to communicate their views. The exemption applies-to media corporations owned or controlled by corporations that have diverse and substantial investments and participate in endeavors other than news. So even assuming the most doubtful proposition that a news organization has a right to speak when others do not, the exemption would allow a conglomerate that owns both a media business and ah unrelated business to influence or control the media in order to advance its overall business interest. At the same time, some other corporation, with an identical business interest but no media outlet in its ownership structure, would be forbidden to speak or *353inform the public about the same issue. This differential treatment cannot be squared with the First Amendment.

There is simply no support for the view that the First Amendment, as originally understood, would permit the suppression of political speech by media corporations. The Framers may not have anticipated modern business and media corporations. See McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U. S. 334, 360-361 (1995) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment). Yet television networks and maj or newspapers owned by media corporations have become the most important means of mass communication in modern times. The First Amendment was certainly not understood to condone the suppression of political speech in society’s most salient media. It was understood as a response to the repression of speech and the press that had existed in England and the heavy taxes on the press that were imposed in the Colonies. See McConnell, supra, at 252-253 (opinion of Scalia, J.); Grosjean, 297 U. S., at 245-248; Near, 283 U. S., at 713-714. The great debates between the Federalists and the Anti-Federalists over our founding document were published and expressed in the most important means of mass communication of that era — newspapers owned by individuals. See McIntyre, 514 U. S., at 341-343; id., at 367 (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment). At the founding, speech was open, comprehensive, and vital to society’s definition of itself; there were no limits on the sources of speech and knowledge. See B. Bailyn, Ideological Origins of the American Revolution 5 (1967) (“Any number of people could join in such proliferating polemics, and rebuttals could come from all sides”); G. Wood, Creation of the American Republic 1776-1787, p. 6 (1969) (“[I]t is not surprising that the intellectual sources of [the Americans’] Revolutionary thought were profuse and various”). The Framers may have been unaware of certain types of speakers or forms of communication, but that does not mean that those speakers and media are entitled to less First Amendment protection than those types of speakers *354and media that provided the means of communicating political ideas when the Bill of Rights was adopted.

Austin interferes with the “open marketplace” of ideas protected by the First Amendment. New York State Bd. of Elections v. Lopez Torres, 552 U. S. 196, 208 (2008); see ibid. (ideas “may compete” in this marketplace “without government interference”); McConnell, 540 U. S., at 274 (opinion of Thomas, J.). It permits the Government to ban the political speech of millions of associations of citizens. See Statistics of Income 2 (5.8 million for-profit corporations filed 2006 tax returns). Most of these are small corporations without large amounts of wealth. See Supp. Brief for Chamber of Commerce of the United States of America as Amicus Curiae 1, 3 (96% of the 3 million businesses that belong to the U. S. Chamber of Commerce have fewer than 100 employees); M. Keightley, Congressional Research Service Report for Congress, Business Organizational Choices: Taxation and Responses to Legislative Changes 10 (2009) (more than 75% of corporations whose income is taxed under federal law, see 26 U. S. C. § 301, have less than $1 million in receipts per year). This fact belies the Government’s argument that the statute is justified, on the ground that it prevents the “distorting effects of immense aggregations of wealth.” Austin, 494 U. S., at 660. It is not even aimed at amassed wealth.

The censorship we now confront is vast in its reach. The Government has “muffle[d] the voices that best represent the most significant segments of the economy.” McConnell, supra, at 257-258 (opinion of Scalia, J.). And “the electorate [has been] deprived of information, knowledge and opinion vital to its function.” CIO, 335 U. S., at 144 (Rutledge, J., concurring in result). By suppressing the speech of manifold corporations, both for-profit and nonprofit, the Government prevents their voices and viewpoints from reaching the public and advising voters on which persons or entities are hostile to their interests. Factions will necessarily form in our Republic, but the remedy of “destroying the liberty” of *355some factions is “worse than the disease.” The Federalist No. 10, p. 130 (B. Wright ed. 1961) (J. Madison). Factions should be checked by permitting them all to speak, see ibid., and by entrusting the people to judge what is true and what is false.

The purpose and effect of this law is to prevent corporations, including small and nonprofit corporations, from presenting both facts and opinions to the public. This makes Austin’s antidistortion rationale all the more an aberration. “[T]he First Amendment protects the right of corporations to petition legislative and administrative bodies.” Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 792, n. 31 (citing California Motor Transport Co. v. Trucking Unlimited, 404 U. S. 508, 510-511 (1972); Eastern Railroad Presidents Conference v. Noerr Motor Freight, Inc., 365 U. S. 127, 137-138 (1961)). Corporate executives and employees counsel Members of Congress and Presidential administrations on many issues, as a matter of routine and often in private. An amici brief filed on behalf of Montana and 25 other States notes that lobbying and corporate communications with elected officials occur on a regular basis. Brief for State of Montana et al. 19. When that phenomenon is coupled with § 441b, the result is that smaller or nonprofit corporations cannot raise a voice to object when other corporations, including those with vast wealth, are cooperating with the Government. That cooperation may sometimes be voluntary, or it may be at the demand of a Government official who uses his or her authority, influence, and power to threaten corporations to support the Government’s policies. Those kinds of interactions are often unknown and unseen. The speech that §441b forbids, though, is public, and all can judge its content and purpose. References to massive corporate treasuries should not mask the real operation of this law. Rhetoric ought not obscure reality.

Even if § 441b’s expenditure ban were constitutional, wealthy corporations could still lobby elected officials, al*356though smaller corporations may not have the resources to do so. And wealthy individuals and unincorporated associations can spend unlimited amounts on independent expenditures. See, e. g., WRTL, 551 U. S., at 503-504 (opinion of Scalia, J.) (“In the 2004 election cycle, a mere 24 individuals contributed an astounding total of $142 million to [26 U. S. C. §527 organizations]”). Yet certain disfavored associations of citizens — those that have taken on the corporate form— are penalized for engaging in the same political speech.

When Government seeks to use its full power, including the criminal law, to command where a person may get his or her information or what distrusted source he or she may not hear, it uses censorship to control thought. This is unlawful. The First Amendment confirms the freedom to think for ourselves.

2

What we have said also shows the invalidity of other arguments made by the Government. For the most part relinquishing the antidistortion rationale, the Government falls back on the argument that corporate political speech can be banned in order to prevent corruption or its appearance. In Buckley, the Court found this interest “sufficiently important” to allow limits on contributions but did not extend that reasoning to expenditure limits. 424 U. S., at 25. When Buckley examined an expenditure ban, it found “that the governmental interest in preventing corruption and the appearance of corruption [was] inadequate to justify [the ban] on independent expenditures.” Id., at 45.

With regard to large direct contributions, Buckley reasoned that they could be given “to secure a political quid pro quo,” id., at 26, and that “the scope of such pernicious practices can never be reliably ascertained,” id., at 27. The practices Buckley noted would be covered by bribery laws, see, e. g., 18 U. S. C. § 201, if a quid pro quo arrangement were proved. See Buckley, supra, at 27, and n. 28 (citing Buckley v. Valeo, 519 F. 2d 821, 839-840, and nn. 36-38 *357(CADC 1975) (en banc) (per curiam)). The Court, in consequence, has noted that restrictions on direct contributions are preventative, because few if any contributions to candidates will involve quid pro quo arrangements. MCFL, 479 U. S., at 260; NCPAC, 470 U. S., at 500; Federal Election Comm’n v. National Right to Work Comm., 459 U. S. 197, 210 (1982) (NRWC). The Buckley Court, nevertheless, sustained limits on direct contributions in order to ensure against the reality or appearance of corruption. That case did not extend this rationale to independent expenditures, and the Court does not do so here.

“The absence of prearrangement and coordination of an expenditure with the candidate or his agent not only undermines the value of the expenditure to the candidate, but also alleviates the danger that expenditures will be given as a quid pro quo for improper commitments from the candidate.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 47; see ibid, (independent expenditures have a “substantially diminished potential for abuse”). Limits on independent expenditures, such as § 441b, have a chilling effect extending well beyond the Government’s interest in preventing quid pro quo corruption. The anticorruption interest is not sufficient to displace the speech here in question. Indeed, 26 States do not restrict independent expenditures by for-profit corporations. The Government does not claim that these expenditures have corrupted the political process in those States. See Supp. Brief for Appellee 18, n. 3; Supp. Brief for Chamber of Commerce of the United States of America as Amicus Curiae 8-9, n. 5.

A single footnote in Bellotti purported to leave open the possibility that corporate independent expenditures could be shown to cause corruption. 435 U. S., at 788, n. 26. For the reasons explained above, we now conclude that independent expenditures, including those made by corporations, do not give rise to corruption or the appearance of corruption. Dicta in Bellotti’s footnote suggested that “a corporation’s right to speak on issues of general public interest implies no *358comparable right in the quite different context of participation in a political campaign for election to public office.” Ibid. Citing the portion of Buckley that invalidated the federal independent expenditure ban, 424 U. S., at 46, and a law review student comment, Bellotti surmised that “Congress might well be able to demonstrate the existence of a danger of real or apparent corruption in independent expenditures by corporations to influence candidate elections.” 435 U. S., at 788, n. 26. Buckley, however, struck down a ban on independent expenditures to support candidates that covered corporations, 424 U. S., at 23, 39, n. 45, and explained that “the distinction between discussion of issues and candidates and advocacy of election or defeat of candidates may often dissolve in practical application,” id., at 42. Bellotti’s dictum is thus supported only by a law review student comment, which misinterpreted Buckley. See Comment, The Regulation of Union Political Activity: Majority and Minority Rights and Remedies, 126 U. Pa. L. Rev. 386, 408 (1977) (suggesting that “corporations and labor unions should be held to different and more stringent standards than an individual or other associations under a regulatory scheme for campaign financing”).

Seizing on this aside in Bellotti’s footnote, the Court in NRWC did say there is a “sufficient” governmental interest in “ensuring] that substantial aggregations of wealth amassed” by corporations would not “be used to incur political debts from legislators who are aided by the contributions.” 459 U. S., at 207-208 (citing Automobile Workers, 352 U. S., at 579); see 459 U. S., at 210, and n. 7; NCPAC, supra, at 500-501 (NRWC suggested a governmental interest in restricting “the influence of political war chests funneled through the corporate form”). NRWC, however, has little relevance here. NRWC decided no more than that a restriction on a corporation’s ability to solicit funds for its segregated PAC, which made direct contributions to candidates, did not violate the First Amendment. 459 U. S., at *359206. NRWC thus involved contribution limits, see NCPAC, supra, at 495-496, which, unlike limits on independent expenditures, have been an accepted means to prevent quid pro quo corruption, see McConnell, 540 U. S., at 136-138, and n. 40; MCFL, supra, at 259-260. Citizens United has not made direct contributions to candidates, and it has not suggested that the Court should reconsider whether contribution limits should be subjected to rigorous First Amendment scrutiny.

When Buckley identified a sufficiently important governmental interest in preventing corruption or the appearance of corruption, that interest was limited to quid pro quo corruption. See McConnell, supra, at 296-298 (opinion of Kennedy, J.) (citing Buckley, supra, at 26-28, 30, 46-48); NCPAC, 470 U. S., at 497 (“The hallmark of corruption is the financial quid pro quo: dollars for political favors”); id., at 498. The fact that speakers may have influence over or access to elected officials does not mean that these officials are corrupt:

“Favoritism and influence are not... avoidable in representative politics. It is in the nature of an elected representative to favor certain policies, and, by necessary corollary, to favor the voters and contributors who support those policies. It is well understood that a substantial and legitimate reason, if not the only reason, to cast a vote for, or to make a contribution to, one candidate over another is that the candidate will respond by producing those political outcomes the supporter favors. Democracy is premised on responsiveness.” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 297 (opinion of Kennedy, J.).

Reliance on a “generic favoritism or influence theory ... is at odds with standard First Amendment analyses because it is unbounded and susceptible to no limiting principle.” Id., at 296.

*360The appearance of influence or access, furthermore, will not cause the electorate to lose faith in our democracy. By definition, an independent expenditure is political speech presented to the electorate that is not coordinated with a candidate. See Buckley, supra, at 46. The fact that a corporation, or any other speaker, is willing to spend money to try to persuade voters presupposes that the people have the ultimate influence over elected officials. This is inconsistent with any suggestion that the electorate will refuse “ ‘to take part in democratic governance’ ” because of additional political speech made by a corporation or any other speaker. McConnell, supra, at 144 (quoting Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377, 390 (2000)).

Caperton v. A. T. Massey Coal Co., 556 U. S. 868 (2009), is not to the contrary. Caperton held that a judge was required to recuse himself “when a person with a personal stake in a particular case had a significant and disproportionate influence in placing the judge on the case by raising funds or directing the judge’s election campaign when the case was pending or imminent.” Id., at 884. The remedy of recusal was based on a litigant’s due process right to a fair trial before an unbiased judge. See Withrow v. Larkin, 421 U. S. 35, 46 (1975). Caperton’s holding was limited to the rule that the judge must be recused, not that the litigant’s political speech could be banned.

The McConnell record was “over 100,000 pages” long, McConnell I, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 209, yet it “does not have any direct examples of votes being exchanged for . . . expenditures,” id., at 560 (opinion of Kollar-Kotelly, J.). This confirms Buckley’s reasoning that independent expenditures do not lead to, or create the appearance of, quid pro quo corruption. In fact, there is only scant evidence that independent expenditures even ingratiate. See 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 555-557 (opinion of Kollar-Kotelly, J.). Ingratiation and access, in any event, are not corruption. The BCRA record establishes that certain donations to political parties, called “soft *361money,” were made to gain access to elected officials. McConnell, supra, at 125, 130-131, 146-152; see McConnell I, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 471-481, 491-506 (opinion of Kollar-Kotelly, J.); id., at 842-843, 858-859 (opinion of Leon, J.). This case, however, is about independent expenditures, not soft money. When Congress finds that a problem exists, we must give that finding due deference; but Congress may not choose an unconstitutional remedy. If elected officials succumb to improper influences from independent expenditures; if they surrender their best judgment; and if they put expediency before principle, then surely there is cause for concern. We must give weight to attempts by Congress to seek to dispel either the appearance or the reality of these influences. The remedies enacted by law, however, must comply with the First Amendment; and it is our law and our tradition that more speech, not less, is the governing rule. An outright ban on corporate political speech during the critical preelection period is not a permissible remedy Here Congress has created categorical bans on speech that are asymmetrical to preventing quid pro quo corruption.

3

The Government contends further that corporate independent expenditures can be limited because of its interest in protecting dissenting shareholders from being compelled to fund corporate political speech. This asserted interest, like Austin’s antidistortion rationale, would allow the Government to ban the political speech even of media corporations. See supra, at 352-354. Assume, for example, that a shareholder of a corporation that owns a newspaper disagrees with the political views the newspaper expresses. See Austin, 494 U. S., at 687 (Scalia, J., dissenting). Under the Government’s view, that potential disagreement could give the Government the authority to restrict the media corporation’s political speech. The First Amendment does not allow that power. There is, furthermore, little evidence of *362abuse that cannot be corrected by shareholders “through the procedures of corporate democracy.” Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 794; see ibid., n. 34.

Those reasons are sufficient to reject this shareholder-protection interest; and, moreover, the statute is both under-inclusive and overinclusive. As to the first, if Congress had been seeking to protect dissenting shareholders, it would not have banned corporate speech in only certain media within 30 or 60 days before an election. A dissenting shareholder’s interests would be implicated by speech in any media at any time. As to the second, the statute is overinclusive because it covers all corporations, including nonprofit corporations and for-profit corporations with only single shareholders. As to other corporations, the remedy is not to restrict speech but to consider and explore other regulatory mechanisms. The regulatory mechanism here, based on speech, contravenes the First Amendment.

4

We need not reach the question whether the Government has a compelling interest in preventing foreign individuals or associations from influencing our Nation’s political process. Cf. 2 U. S. C. §441e (contribution and expenditure ban applied to “foreign nationals]”). Section 441b is not limited to corporations or associations that were created in foreign countries or funded predominantly by foreign shareholders. Section 441b therefore would be overbroad even if we assumed, arguendo, that the Government has a compelling interest in limiting foreign influence over our political process. See Broadrick, 413 U. S., at 615.

C

Our precedent is to be respected unless the most convincing of reasons demonstrates that adherence to it puts us on a course that is sure error. “Beyond workability, the relevant factors in deciding whether to adhere to the principle of stare *363decisis include the antiquity of the precedent, the reliance interests at stake, and of course whether the decision was well reasoned.” Montejo v. Louisiana, 556 U. S. 778, 792-793 (2009) (overruling Michigan v. Jackson, 475 U. S. 625 (1986)). We have also examined whether “experience has pointed up the precedent’s shortcomings.” Pearson v. Callahan, 555 U. S. 223, 233 (2009) (overruling Saucier v. Katz, 533 U. S. 194 (2001)).

These considerations counsel in favor of rejecting Austin, which itself contravened this Court’s earlier precedents in Buckley and Bellotti. “This Court has not hesitated to overrule decisions offensive to the First Amendment.” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 500 (opinion of Scalia, J.). “[S]tare decisis is a principle of policy and not a mechanical formula of adherence to the latest decision.” Helvering v. Hallock, 309 U. S. 106, 119 (1940).

For the reasons above, it must be concluded that Austin was not well reasoned. The Government defends Austin, relying almost entirely on “the quid pro quo interest, the corruption interest or the shareholder interest,” and not Austin’s expressed antidistortion rationale. Tr. of Oral Arg. 48 (Sept. 9, 2009); see id., at 45-46. When neither party defends the reasoning of a precedent, the principle of adhering to that precedent through stare decisis is diminished. Austin abandoned First Amendment principles, furthermore, by relying on language in some of our precedents that traces back to the Automobile Workers Court’s flawed historical account of campaign finance laws, see Brief for Campaign Finance Scholars as Amici Curiae; Hayward, 45 Harv. J. Legis. 421; R. Mutch, Campaigns, Congress, and Courts 33-35, 153-157 (1988). See Austin, supra, at 659 (citing MCFL, 479 U. S., at 257-258; NCPAC, 470 U. S., at 500-501); MCFL, supra, at 257 (citing Automobile Workers, 352 U. S., at 585); NCPAC, supra, at 500 (citing NRWC, 459 U. S., at 210); id., at 208 (“The history of the movement to regulate the political contributions and expenditures of corporations *364and labor unions is set forth in great detail in [Automobile Workers], supra, at 570-584, and we need only summarize the development here”).

Austin is undermined by experience since its announcement. Political speech is so ingrained in our culture that speakers find ways to circumvent campaign finance laws. See, e. g., McConnell, 540 U. S., at 176-177 (“Given BCRA’s tighter restrictions on the raising and spending of soft money, the incentives ... to exploit [26 U. S. C. § 527] organizations will only increase”). Our Nation’s speech dynamic is changing, and informative voices should not have to circumvent onerous restrictions to exercise their First Amendment rights. Speakers have become adept at presenting citizens with sound bites, talking points, and scripted messages that dominate the 24-hour news cycle. Corporations, like individuals, do not have monolithic views. On certain topics corporations may possess valuable expertise, leaving them the best equipped to point out errors or fallacies in speech of all sorts, including the speech of candidates and elected officials.

Rapid changes in technology — and the. creative dynamic inherent in the concept of free expression — counsel against upholding a law that restricts political speech in certain media or by certain speakers. See Part II-C, supra. Today, 30-second television ads may be the most effective way to convey a political message. See McConnell, supra, at 261 (opinion of SCALIA, J.). Soon, however, it may be that Internet sources, such as blogs and social networking Web sites, will provide citizens with significant information about political candidates and issues. Yet, §441b would seem to ban a blog post expressly advocating the election or defeat of a candidate if that blog were created with corporate funds. See 2 U. S. C. §441b(a); MCFL, supra, at 249. The First Amendment does not permit Congress to make these categorical distinctions based on the corporate identity of the speaker and the content of the political speech.

*365No serious reliance interests are at stake. As the Court stated in Payne v. Tennessee, 501 U. S. 808, 828 (1991), reliance interests are important considerations in property and contract cases, where parties may have acted in conformance with existing legal rules in order to conduct transactions. Here, though, parties, have been prevented from acting— corporations have been banned from making independent expenditures. Legislatures may have enacted bans on corporate expenditures believing that those bans were constitutional. This is not a compelling interest for stare decisis. If it were, legislative acts could prevent us from overruling our own precedents, thereby interfering with our duty “to say what the law is.” Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137, 177 (1803).

Due consideration leads to this conclusion: Austin, 494 U. S. 652, should be and now is overruled. We return to the principle established in Buckley and Bellotti that the Government may not suppress political speech on the basis of the speaker’s corporate identity. No sufficient governmental interest justifies limits on the political speech of nonprofit or for-profit corporations.

D

Austin is overruled, so it provides no basis for allowing the Government to limit corporate independent expenditures. As the Government appears to concede, overruling Austin “effectively invalidate[s] not only BCRA Section 203, but also 2 U. S. C. 441b’s prohibition on the use of corporate treasury funds for express advocacy.” Brief for Appellee 33, n. 12. Section 441b’s restrictions on corporate independent expenditures are therefore invalid and cannot be applied to Hillary.

Given our conclusion we are further required to overrule the part of McConnell that upheld BCRA §203’s extension of §441b’s restrictions on corporate independent expenditures. See 540 U. S., at 203-209. The McConnell Court relied on *366the antidistortion interest recognized in Austin to uphold a greater restriction on speech than the restriction upheld in Austin, see 540 U. S., at 205, and we have found this interest unconvincing and insufficient. This part of McConnell is now overruled.

IV

A

Citizens United next challenges BCRA’s disclaimer and disclosure provisions as applied to Hillary and the three advertisements for the movie. Under BCRA §311, televised electioneering communications funded by anyone other than a candidate must include a disclaimer that “‘-is responsible for the content of this advertising.’ ” 2 U. S. C. §441d(d)(2). The required statement must be made in a “clearly spoken manner,” and displayed on the screen in a “clearly readable manner” for at least four seconds. Ibid. It must state that the communication “is not authorized by any candidate or candidate’s committee”; it must also display the name and address (or Web site address) of the person or group that funded the advertisement. § 441d(a)(3). Under BCRA §201, any person who spends more than $10,000 on electioneering communications within a calendar year must file a disclosure statement with the FEC. 2 U. S. C. § 434(f)(1). That statement must identify the person making the expenditure, the amount of the expenditure, the election to which the communication was directed, and the names of certain contributors. § 434(f)(2).

Disclaimer and disclosure requirements may burden the ability to speak, but they “impose no ceiling on campaign-related activities,” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 64, and “do not prevent anyone from speaking,” McConnell, supra, at 201 (internal quotation marks and brackets omitted). The Court has subjected these requirements to “exacting scrutiny,” which requires a “substantial relation” between the disclosure requirement and a “sufficiently important” governmen*367tal interest. Buckley, supra, at 64, 66 (internal quotation marks omitted); see McConnell, supra, at 231-232.

In Buckley, the Court explained that disclosure could be justified based on a governmental interest in “provid[ing] the electorate with information” about the sources of election-related spending. 424 U. S., at 66. The McConnell Court applied this interest in rejecting facial challenges to BCRA §§201 and 311. 540 U. S., at 196. There was evidence in the record that independent groups were running election-related advertisements “'while hiding behind dubious and misleading names.’” Id., at 197 (quoting McConnell I, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 237). The Court therefore upheld BCRA §§201 and 311 on the ground that they would help citizens “ 'make informed choices in the political marketplace.’ ” 540 U. S., at 197 (quoting McConnell I, supra, at 237); see 540 U. S., at 231.

Although both provisions were facially upheld, the Court acknowledged that as-applied challenges would be available if a group could show a “ 'reasonable probability’ ” that disclosure of its contributors’ names “ 'will subject them to threats, harassment, or reprisals from either Government officials or private parties.’” Id., at 198 (quoting Buckley, supra, at 74).

For the reasons stated below, we find the statute valid as applied to the ads for the movie and to the movie itself.

B

Citizens United sought to broadcast one 30-second and two 10-second ads to promote Hillary. Under FEC regulations, a communication that “[p]roposes a commercial transaction” was not subject to 2 U. S. C. §441b’s restrictions on corporate or union funding of electioneering communications. 11 CFR §114.15(b)(3)(ii). The regulations, however, do not exempt those communications from the disclaimer and disclosure requirements in BCRA §§201 and 311. See 72 Fed. Reg. 72901 (2007).

*368Citizens United argues that the disclaimer requirements in §311 are unconstitutional as applied to its ads. It contends that the governmental interest in providing information to the electorate does not justify requiring disclaimers for any commercial advertisements, including the ones at issue here. We disagree. The ads fall within BCRA’s definition of an “electioneering communication”: They referred to then-Senator Clinton by name shortly before a primary and contained pejorative references to her candidacy. See 530 F. Supp. 2d, at 276, nn. 2-4. The disclaimers required by §311 “provid[e] the electorate with information,” McConnell, supra, at 196, and “insure that the voters are fully informed” about the person or group who is speaking, Buckley, supra, at 76; see also Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 792, n. 32 (“Identification of the source of advertising may be required as a means of disclosure, so that the people will be able to evaluate the arguments to which they are being subjected”). At the very least, the disclaimers avoid confusion by making clear that the ads are not funded by a candidate or political party.

Citizens United argues that §311 is underinclusive because it requires disclaimers for broadcast advertisements but not for print or Internet advertising. It asserts that §311 decreases both the quantity and effectiveness of the group's speech by forcing it to devote four seconds of each advertisement to the spoken disclaimer. We rejected these arguments in McConnell, supra, at 230-231. And we now adhere to that decision as it pertains to the disclosure provisions.

As a final point, Citizens United claims that, in any event, the disclosure requirements in §201 must be confined to speech that is the functional equivalent of express advocacy. The principal opinion in WRTL limited 2 U. S. C. § 441b’s restrictions on independent expenditures to express advocacy and its functional equivalent. 551 U. S., at 469-476 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.). Citizens United seeks to import a simi*369lar distinction into BCRA’s disclosure requirements. We reject this contention.

The Court has explained that disclosure is a less restrictive alternative to more comprehensive regulations of speech. See, e. g., MCFL, 479 U. S., at 262. In Buckley, the Court upheld a disclosure requirement for independent expenditures even though it invalidated a provision that imposed a ceiling on those expenditures. 424 U. S., at 75-76. In McConnell, three Justices who would have found §441b to be unconstitutional nonetheless voted to uphold BCRA’s disclosure and disclaimer requirements. 540 U. S., at 321 (opinion of Kennedy, J., joined by Rehnquist, C. J, and Scalia, J.). And the Court has upheld registration and disclosure requirements on lobbyists, even though Congress has no power to ban lobbying itself. United States v. Harriss, 347 U. S. 612, 625 (1954) (Congress “has merely provided for a modicum of information from those who for hire attempt to influence legislation or who collect or spend funds for that purpose”). For these reasons, we reject Citizens United’s contention that the disclosure requirements must be limited to speech that is the functional equivalent of express advocacy.

Citizens United also disputes that an informational interest justifies the application of §201 to its ads, which only attempt to persuade viewers to see the film. Even if it disclosed the funding sources for the ads, Citizens United says, the information would not help viewers make informed choices in the political marketplace. This is similar to the argument rejected above with respect to disclaimers. Even if the ads only pertain to a commercial transaction, the public has an interest in knowing who is speaking about a candidate shortly before an election. Because the informational interest alone is sufficient to justify application of §201 to these ads, it is not necessary to consider the Government’s other asserted interests.

*370Last, Citizens United argues that disclosure requirements can chill donations to an organization by exposing donors to retaliation. Some amici point to recent events in which donors to certain causes were blacklisted, threatened, or otherwise targeted for retaliation. See Brief for Institute for Justice as Amicus Curiae, 13-16; Brief for Alliance Defense Fund as Amicus Curiae 16-22. In McConnell, the Court recognized that § 201 would be unconstitutional as applied to an organization if there were a reasonable probability that the group’s members would face threats, harassment, or reprisals if their names were disclosed. 540 U. S., at 198. The examples cited by amici are cause for concern. Citizens United, however, has offered no evidence that its members may faee similar threats or reprisals. To the contrary, Citizens United has been disclosing its donors for years and has identified no instance of harassment or retaliation.

Shareholder objections raised through the procedures of corporate democracy, see Bellotti, supra, at 794, and n. 34, can be more effective today because modern technology makes disclosures rapid and informative. A campaign finance system that pairs corporate independent expenditures with effective disclosure has not existed before today. It must be noted, furthermore, that many of Congress’ findings in passing BCRA were premised on a system without adequate disclosure. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 128 (“[T]he public may not have been fully informed about the sponsorship of so-called issue ads”); id., at 196-197 (citing McConnell I, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 237). With the advent of the Internet, prompt disclosure of expenditures can provide shareholders and citizens with the information needed to hold corporations and elected officials accountable for their positions and supporters. Shareholders can determine whether their corporation’s political speech advances the corporation’s interest in making profits, and citizens can see whether elected officials are “‘in the pocket’ of so-called moneyed interests.” 540 U. S., at 259 (opinion of Scalia, J.); see MCFL, supra, at *371261. The First Amendment protects political speech; and disclosure permits citizens and shareholders to react to the speech of corporate entities in a proper way. This transparency enables the electorate to make informed decisions and give proper weight to different speakers and messages.

C

For the same reasons we uphold the application of BCRA §§201 and 311 to the ads, we affirm their application to Hillary. We find no constitutional impediment to the application of BCRA’s disclaimer and disclosure requirements to a movie broadcast via video-on-demand. And there has been no showing that, as applied in this case, these requirements would impose a chill on speech or expression.

V

When word concerning the plot of the movie Mr. Smith Goes to Washington reached the circles of Government, some officials sought, by persuasion, to discourage its distribution. See Smoodin, “Compulsory” Viewing for Every Citizen: Mr. Smith and the Rhetoric of Reception, 35 Cinema Journal 3, 19, and n. 52 (Winter 1996) (citing Mr. Smith Riles Washington, Time, Oct. 30, 1939, p. 49); Nugent, Capra’s Capitol Offense, N. Y. Times, Oct. 29, 1939, p. X5. Under Austin, though, officials could have done more than discourage its distribution — they could have banned the film. After all, it, like Hillary, was speech funded by a corporation that was critical of Members of Congress. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington may be fiction and caricature; but fiction and caricature can be a powerful force.

Modern day movies, television comedies, or skits on YouTube.com might portray public officials or public policies in unflattering ways. Yet if a covered transmission during the blackout period creates the background for candidate endorsement or opposition, a felony occurs solely because a corporation, other than an exempt media corporation, has made *372the “purchase, payment, distribution, loan, advance, deposit, or gift of money or anything of value” in order to engage in political speech. 2 U. S. C. § 431(9)(A)(i). Speech would be suppressed in the realm where its necessity is most evident: in the public dialogue preceding a real election. Governments are often hostile to speech, but under our law and our tradition it seems stranger than fiction for our Government to make this political speech a crime. Yet this is the statute’s purpose and design.

Some members of the public might consider Hillary to be insightful and instructive; some might find it to be neither high art nor a fair discussion on how to set the Nation’s course; still others simply might suspend judgment on these points but decide to think more about issues and candidates. Those choices and assessments, however, are not for the Government to make. “The First Amendment underwrites the freedom to experiment and to create in the realm of thought and speech. Citizens must be free to use new forms, and new forums, for the expression of ideas. The civic discourse belongs to the people, and the Government may not prescribe the means used to conduct it.” McConnell, supra, at 341 (opinion of Kennedy, J.).

The judgment of the District Court is reversed with respect to the constitutionality of 2 U. S. C. § 441b’s restrictions on corporate independent expenditures. The judgment is affirmed with respect to BCRA’s disclaimer and disclosure requirements. The case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Chief Justice Roberts,

with whom Justice Alito joins, concurring.

The Government urges us in this case to uphold a direct prohibition on political speech. It asks us to embrace a theory of the First Amendment that would allow censorship not only of television and radio broadcasts, but of pamphlets, *373posters, the Internet, and virtually any other medium that corporations and unions might find useful in expressing their views on matters of public concern. Its theory, if accepted, would empower the Government to prohibit newspapers from running editorials or opinion pieces supporting or opposing candidates for office, so long as the newspapers were owned by corporations — as the major ones are. First Amendment rights could be confined to individuals, subverting the vibrant public discourse that is at the foundation of our democracy.

The Court properly rejects that theory, and I join its opinion in full. The First Amendment protects more than just the individual on a soapbox and the lonely pamphleteer. I write separately to address the important principles of judicial restraint and stare decisis implicated in this case.

I

Judging the constitutionality of an Act of Congress is “the gravest and most delicate duty that this Court is called on to perform.” Blodgett v. Holden, 275 U. S. 142, 147-148 (1927) (Holmes, J., concurring). Because the stakes are so high, our standard practice is to refrain from addressing constitutional questions except when necessary to rule on particular claims before us. See Ashwander v. TVA, 297 U. S. 288, 346-348 (1936) (Brandeis, J., concurring). This policy underlies both our willingness to construe ambiguous statutes to avoid constitutional problems and our practice “ ‘never to formulate a rule of constitutional law broader than is required by the precise facts to which it is to be applied.’” United States v. Raines, 362 U. S. 17, 21 (1960) (quoting Liverpool, New York & Philadelphia S. S. Co. v. Commissioners of Emigration, 113 U. S. 33, 39 (1885)).

The majority and dissent are united in expressing allegiance to these principles. Ante, at 329; post, at 405-406 (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). *374But I cannot agree with my dissenting colleagues on how these principles apply in this case.

The majority’s step-by-step analysis accords with our standard practice of avoiding broad constitutional questions except when necessary to decide the case before us. The majority begins by addressing — and quite properly rejecting — Citizens United’s statutory claim that 2 U. S. C. § 441b does not actually cover its production and distribution of Hillary: The Movie (hereinafter Hillary). If there were a valid basis for deciding this statutory claim in Citizens United’s favor (and thereby avoiding constitutional adjudication), it would be proper to do so. Indeed, that is precisely the approach the Court took just last Term in Northwest Austin Municipal Util. Dist. No. One v. Holder, 557 U. S. 193 (2009), when eight Members of the Court agreed to decide the case on statutory grounds instead of reaching the appellant’s broader argument that the Voting Rights Act is unconstitutional.

It is only because the majority rejects Citizens United’s statutory claim that it proceeds to consider the group’s various constitutional arguments, beginning with its narrowest claim (that Hillary is not the functional equivalent of express advocacy) and proceeding to its broadest claim (that Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce, 494 U. S. 652 (1990), should be overruled). This is the same order of operations followed by the controlling opinion in Federal Election Comm’n v. Wisconsin Right to Life, Inc., 551 U. S. 449 (2007) (WRTL). There the appellant was able to prevail on its narrowest constitutional argument because its broadcast ads did not qualify as the functional equivalent of express advocacy; there was thus no need to go on to address the broader claim that McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 540 U. S. 93 (2003), should be overruled. WRTL, 551 U. S., at 482; id., at 482-483 (Alito, J., concurring). This case is different — not, as the dissent suggests, because the approach taken in WRTL has been deemed a “failure,” post, at 402, *375but because, in the absence of any valid narrower ground of decision, there is no way to avoid Citizens United’s broader constitutional argument.

The dissent advocates an approach to addressing Citizens United’s claims that I find quite perplexing. It presumably agrees with the majority that Citizens United’s narrower statutory and constitutional arguments lack merit — otherwise its conclusion that the group should lose this case would make no sense. Despite agreeing that these narrower arguments fail, however, the dissent argues that the majority should nonetheless latch on to one of them in order to avoid reaching the broader constitutional question of whether Austin remains good law. It even suggests that the Court’s failure to adopt one of these concededly meritless arguments is a sign that the majority is not “serious about judicial restraint.” Post, at 408.

This approach is based on a false premise: that our practice of avoiding .unnecessary (and unnecessarily broad) constitutional holdings somehow trumps our obligation faithfully to interpret the law. It should go without saying, however, that we cannot embrace a narrow ground of decision simply because it is narrow; it must also be right. Thus while it is true that “[i]f it is not necessary to decide more, it is necessary not to decide more,” post, at 405 (internal quotation marks omitted), sometimes it is necessary to decide more. There is a difference between judicial restraint and judicial abdication. When constitutional questions are “indispensably necessary” to resolving the case at hand, “the court must meet and decide them.” Ex parte Randolph, 20 F. Cas. 242, 254 (No. 11,558) (CC Va. 1883) (Marshall, C. J.).

Because it is necessary to reach Citizens United’s broader argument that Austin should be overruled, the debate over whether to consider this claim on an as-applied or facial basis strikes me as largely beside the point. Citizens United has standing — it is being injured by the Government’s enforcement of the Act. Citizens United has a constitutional *376claim — the Act violates the First Amendment, because it prohibits political speech. The Government has a defense— the Act may be enforced, consistent with the First Amendment, against corporations. Whether the claim or the defense prevails is the question before us.

Given the nature of that claim and defense, it makes no difference of any substance whether this case is resolved by invalidating the statute on its face or only as applied to Citizens United. Even if considered in as-applied terms, a holding in this ease that the Act may not be applied to Citizens United — because corporations as well as individuals enjoy the pertinent First Amendment rights — would mean that any other corporation raising the same challenge would also win. Likewise, a conclusion that the Act may be applied to Citizens United — because it is constitutional to prohibit corporate political speech — would similarly govern future cases. Regardless whether we label Citizens United’s claim a “facial” or “as-applied” challenge, the consequences of the Court’s decision are the same.1

II

The text and purpose of the First Amendment point in the same direction: Congress may not prohibit political speech, even if the speaker is a corporation or union. What makes this case difficult is the need to confront our prior decision in Austin.

This is the first case in which we have been asked to overrule Austin, and thus it is also the first in which we have had reason to consider how much weight to give stare decisis in assessing its continued validity. The dissent erroneously *377declares that the Court “reaffirmed” Austin’s holding in subsequent cases — namely, Federal Election Comm’n v. Beaumont, 539 U. S. 146 (2003); McConnell; and WRTL. Post, at 439-441. Not so. Not a single party in any of those cases asked us to overrule Austin, and as the dissent points out, post, at 396-398, the Court generally does not consider constitutional arguments that have not properly been raised. Austin’s validity was therefore not directly at issue in the cases the dissent cites. The Court's unwillingness to overturn Austin in those eases cannot be understood as a reaffirmation of that decision.

A

Fidelity to precedent — the policy of stare decisis — is vital to the proper exercise of the judicial function. “Stare decisis is the preferred course because it promotes the evenhanded, predictable, and consistent development of legal principles, fosters reliance on judicial decisions, and contributes to the actual and perceived integrity of the judicial process.” Payne v. Tennessee, 501 U. S. 808, 827 (1991). For these reasons, we have long recognized that departures from precedent are inappropriate in the absence of a “special justification.” Arizona v. Rumsey, 467 U. S. 203, 212 (1984).

At the same time, stare decisis is neither an “inexorable command,” Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U. S. 558, 577 (2003), nor “a mechanical formula of adherence to the latest decision,” Helvering v. Hallock, 309 U. S. 106, 119 (1940), especially in constitutional cases, see United States v. Scott, 437 U. S. 82, 101 (1978). If it were, segregation would be legal, minimum wage laws would be unconstitutional, and the Government could wiretap ordinary criminal suspects without first obtaining warrants. See Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U. S. 537 (1896), overruled by Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483 (1954); Adkins v. Children’s Hospital of D. C., 261 U. S. 525 (1923), overruled by West Coast Hotel Co. v. Parrish, 300 U. S. 379 (1937); Olmstead v. United States, 277 U. S. 438 (1928), overruled by Katz v. United States, *378389 U. S. 347 (1967). As the dissent properly notes, none of us has viewed stare decisis in such absolute terms. Post, at 408; see also, e. g., Randall v. Sorrell, 548 U. S. 230, 274-281 (2006) (Stevens, J., dissenting) (urging the Court to overrule its invalidation of limits on independent expenditures on political speech in Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 (1976) (per curiam)).

Stare decisis is instead a “principle of policy.” Helvering, supra, at 119. When considering whether to reexamine a prior erroneous holding, we must balance the importance of having constitutional questions decided against the importance of having them decided right. As Justice Jackson explained, this requires a “sober appraisal of the disadvantages of the innovation as well as those of the questioned case, a weighing of practical effects of one against the other.” Jackson, Decisional Law and Stare Decisis, 30 A. B. A. J. 334 (1944).

In conducting this balancing, we must keep in mind that stare decisis is not an end in itself. It is instead “the means by which we ensure that the law will not merely change erratically, but will develop in a principled and intelligible fashion.” Vasquez v. Hillery, 474 U. S. 254, 265 (1986). Its greatest purpose is to serve a constitutional ideal — the rule of law. It follows that in the unusual circumstance when fidelity to any particular precedent does more to damage this constitutional ideal than to advance it, we must be more willing to depart from that precedent.

Thus, for example, if the precedent under consideration itself departed from the Court’s jurisprudence, returning to the “‘intrinsically sounder’ doctrine established in prior cases” may “better serv[e] the values of stare decisis than would following [the] more recently decided case inconsistent with the decisions that came before it.” Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U. S. 200, 231 (1995); see also Helvering, supra, at 119; Randall, supra, at 274 (Stevens, J., dissenting). Abrogating the errant precedent, rather than *379reaffirming or extending it, might better preserve the law’s coherence and curtail the precedent’s disruptive effects.

Likewise, if adherence to a precedent actually impedes the stable and orderly adjudication of future cases, its stare decisis effect is also diminished. This can happen in a number of circumstances, such as when the precedent’s validity is so hotly contested that it cannot reliably function as a basis for decision in future cases, when its rationale threatens to upend our settled jurisprudence in related areas of law, and when the precedent’s underlying reasoning has become so discredited that the Court cannot keep the precedent alive without jury-rigging new and different justifications to shore up the original mistake. See, e. g., Pearson v. Callahan, 555 U. S. 223, 235 (2009); Montejo v. Louisiana, 556 U. S. 778, 792 (2009) (stare decisis does not control when adherence to the prior decision requires “fundamentally revising its theoretical basis”).

B

These considerations weigh against retaining our decision in Austin. First, as the majority explains, that decision was an “aberration” insofar as it departed from the robust protections we had granted political speech in our earlier cases. Ante, at 355; see also Buckley, supra; First Nat. Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765 (1978). Austin undermined the careful line that Buckley drew to distinguish limits on contributions to candidates from limits on independent expenditures on speech. Buckley rejected the asserted government interest in regulating independent expenditures, concluding that “restrict[ing] the speech of some elements of our society in order to enhance the relative voice of others is wholly foreign to the First Amendment.” 424 U. S., at 48-49; see also Bellotti, supra, at 790-791; Citizens Against Rent Control/Coalition for Fair Housing v. Berkeley, 454 U. S. 290, 295 (1981). Austin, however, allowed the Government to prohibit these same expenditures out of concern for “the corrosive and distorting effects of immense aggrega*380tions of wealth” in the marketplace of ideas. 494 U. S., at 660. Austin's reasoning was — and remains — inconsistent with Buckley's explicit repudiation of any government interest in “equalizing the relative ability of individuals and groups to influence the outcome of elections.” 424 U. S., at 48-49.

Austin was also inconsistent with Bellotti’s clear rejection of the idea that “speech that otherwise would be within the protection of the First Amendment loses that protection simply because its source is a corporation.” 435 U. S., at 784. The dissent correctly points out that Bellotii involved a referendum rather than a candidate election, and that Bellota itself noted this factual distinction, id., at 788, n. 26; post, at 442-443. But this distinction does not explain why corporations may be subject to prohibitions on speech in candidate elections when individuals may not.

Second, the validity of Austin’s rationale — itself adopted over two “spirited dissents,” Payne, 501 U. S., at 829 — has proved to be the consistent subject of dispute among Members of this Court ever since. See, e. g., WRTL, 551 U. S., at 483 (Scalia, J., joined by Kennedy and Thomas, JJ., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); McConnell, 540 U. S., at 247, 264, 286 (opinions of Scalia, Thomas, and Kennedy, JJ.); Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 163, 164 (opinions of Kennedy and Thomas, JJ.). The simple fact that one of our decisions remains controversial is, of course, insufficient to justify overruling it. But it does undermine the precedent’s ability to contribute to the stable and orderly development of the law. In such circumstances, it is entirely appropriate for the Court — which in this case is squarely asked to reconsider Austin’s validity for the first time — to address the matter with a greater willingness to consider new approaches capable of restoring our doctrine to sounder footing.

Third, the Austin decision is uniquely destabilizing because it threatens to subvert our Court’s decisions even outside the particular context of corporate express advocacy. *381The First Amendment theory underlying Austin’s holding is extraordinarily broad. Austin’s logic would authorize government prohibition of political speech by a category of speakers in the name of equality — a point that most scholars acknowledge (and many celebrate), but that the dissent denies. Compare, e. g., Garrett, New Voices in Polities: Justice Marshall’s Jurisprudence on Law and Politics, 52 How. L. J. 655, 669 (2009) (Austin “has been understood by most commentators to be an opinion driven by equality considerations, albeit disguised in the language of ‘political corruption’ ”), with post, at 464 (Austin’s rationale “is manifestly not just an ‘equalizing’ ideal in disguise”).2

It should not be surprising, then, that Members of the Court have relied on Austin’s expansive logic to justify greater incursions on the First Amendment, even outside the original context of corporate advocacy on behalf of candidates running for office. See, e. g., Davis v. Federal Election Comm’n, 554 U. S. 724, 756 (2008) (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part) (relying on Austin and other cases to justify restrictions on campaign spending by individual candidates, explaining that “there is no reason that their logic — specifically, their concerns about the corrosive and distorting effects of wealth on our political process — is not equally applicable in the context of individual wealth”); McConnell, supra, at 203-209 (extending Austin beyond its original context to cover not only the “functional equivalent” of express advocacy by corporations, but also *382electioneering speech conducted by labor unions). The dissent in this case succumbs to the same temptation, suggesting that Austin justifies prohibiting corporate speech because such speech might unduly influence “the market for legislation.” Post, at 471. The dissent reads Austin to permit restrictions on corporate speech based on nothing more than the fact that the corporate form may help individuals coordinate and present their views more effectively. Post, at 471-472. A speaker’s ability to persuade, however, provides no basis for government regulation of free and open public debate on what the laws should be.

If taken seriously, Austin’s logic would apply most directly to newspapers and other media corporations. They have a more profound impact on public discourse than most other speakers. These corporate entities are, for the time being, not subject to §441b’s otherwise generally applicable prohibitions on corporate political speech. But this is simply a matter of legislative grace. The fact that the law currently grants a favored position to media corporations is no reason to overlook the danger inherent in accepting a theory that would allow government restrictions on their political speech. See generally McConnell, supra, at 283-286 (Thomas, J., concurring in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part).

These readings of Austin do no more than carry that decision’s reasoning to its logical endpoint. In doing so, they highlight the threat Austin poses to First Amendment rights generally, even outside its specific factual context of corporate express advocacy. Because Austin is so difficult to confine to its facts — and because its logic threatens to undermine our First Amendment jurisprudence and the nature of public discourse more broadly — the costs of giving it stare decisis effect are unusually high.

Finally and most importantly, the Government’s own effort to defend Austin — or, more accurately, to defend something that is not quite Austin — underscores its weakness as *383a precedent of the Court. The Government concedes that Austin “is not the most lucid opinion,” yet asks us to reaffirm its holding. Tr. of Oral Arg. 62 (Sept. 9, 2009). But while invoking stare decisis to support this position, the Government never once even mentions the compelling interest that Austin relied upon in the first place: the need to diminish “the corrosive and distorting effects of immense aggregations of wealth that are accumulated with the help of the corporate form and that have little or no correlation to the public’s support for the corporation’s political ideas.” 494 U. S., at 660.

Instead of endorsing Austin on its own terms, the Government urges us to reaffirm Austin’s specific holding on the basis of two new and potentially expansive interests — the need to prevent actual or apparent quid pro quo corruption, and the need to protect corporate shareholders. See Supp. Brief for Appellee 8-10, 12-13. Those interests may or may not support the result in Austin, but they were plainly not part of the reasoning on which Austin relied.

To its credit, the Government forthrightly concedes that Austin did not embrace either of the new rationales it now urges upon us. See, e. g., Supp. Brief for Appellee 11 (“The Court did not decide in Austin .. . whether the compelling interest in preventing actual or apparent corruption provides a constitutionally sufficient justification for prohibiting the use of corporate treasury funds for independent electioneering”); Tr. of Oral Arg. 45 (Sept. 9, 2009) (“Austin did not articulate what we believe to be the strongest compelling interest”); id., at 61 (“[The Court:] I take it we have never accepted your shareholder protection interest. This is a new argument. [The Government:] I think that that’s fair”); id., at 64 (“[The Court:] In other words, you are asking us to uphold Austin on the basis of two arguments, two principles, two compelling interests we have never accepted, in [the context of limits on political expenditures]. [The Government:] [I]n this particular context, fair enough”).

*384To be clear: The Court in Austin nowhere relied upon the only arguments the Government now raises to support that decision. In fact, the only opinion in Austin endorsing the Government’s argument based on the threat of quid pro quo corruption was Justice Stevens’s concurrence. 494 U. S., at 678. The Court itself did not do so, despite the fact that the concurrence highlighted the argument. Moreover, the Court’s only discussion of shareholder protection in Austin appeared in a section of the opinion that sought merely to distinguish Austin’s facts from those of Federal Election Comm’n v. Massachusetts Citizens for Life, Inc., 479 U. S. 238 (1986). Austin, supra, at 663. Nowhere did Austin suggest that the goal of protecting shareholders is itself a compelling interest authorizing restrictions on First Amendment rights.

To the extent that the Government’s case for reaffirming Austin depends on radically reconceptualizing its reasoning, that argument is at odds with itself. Stare decisis is a doctrine of preservation, not transformation. It counsels deference to past mistakes, but provides no justification for making new ones. There is therefore no basis for the Court to give precedential sway to reasoning that it has never accepted, simply because that reasoning happens to support a conclusion reached on different grounds that have since been abandoned or discredited.

Doing so would undermine the rule-of-law values that justify stare decisis in the first place. It would effectively license the Court to invent and adopt new principles of constitutional law solely for the purpose of rationalizing its past errors, without a proper analysis of whether those principles have merit on their own. This approach would allow the Court’s past missteps to spawn future mistakes, undercutting the very rule-of-law values that stare decisis is designed to protect.

None of this is to say that the Government is barred from making new arguments to support the outcome in Austin. *385On the contrary, it is free to do so. And of course the Court is free to accept them. But the Government’s new arguments must stand or fall on their own; they are not entitled to receive the special deference we accord to precedent. They are, as grounds to support Austin, literally imprecedented. Moreover, to the extent the Government relies on new arguments — and declines to defend Austin on its own terms — we may reasonably infer that it lacks confidence in that decision’s original justification.

Because continued adherence to Austin threatens to subvert the “principled and intelligible” development of our First Amendment jurisprudence, Vasquez, 474 U. S., at 265, I support the Court’s determination to overrule that decision.

* * *

We have had two rounds of briefing in this case, two oral arguments, and 54 amicus briefs to help us carry out our obligation to decide the necessary constitutional questions according to law. We have also had the benefit of a comprehensive dissent that has helped ensure that the Court has considered all the relevant issues. This careful consideration convinces me that Congress violates the First Amendment when it decrees that some speakers may not engage in political speech at election time, when it matters most.

Justice Scalia,

with whom Justice Alito joins, and with whom Justice Thomas joins in part, concurring.

I join the opinion of the Cotut.1

I write separately to address Justice Stevens' discussion of “Original Understandings,” post, at 425 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part) (hereinafter referred to as the dissent). This section of the dissent purports to show that today’s decision is not supported by the original understanding of the First Amendment. The dissent at*386tempts this demonstration, however, in splendid isolation from the text of the First Amendment. It never shows why “the freedom of speech” that was the right of Englishmen did not include the freedom to speak in association with other individuals, including association in the corporate form. To be sure, in 1791 (as now) corporations could pursue only the objectives set forth in their charters; but the dissent provides no evidence that their speech in the pursuit of those objectives could be censored.

Instead of taking this straightforward approach to determining the Amendment’s meaning, the dissent embarks on a detailed exploration of the Framers’ views about the “role of corporations in society.” Post, at 426. The Framers did not like corporations, the dissent concludes, and therefore it follows (as night the day) that corporations had no rights of free speech. Of course the Framers’ personal affection or disaffection for corporations is relevant only insofar as it can be thought to be reflected in the understood meaning of the text they enacted — not, as the dissent suggests, as a freestanding substitute for that text. But the dissent’s distortion of proper analysis is even worse than that. Though faced with a constitutional text that makes no distinction between types of speakers, the dissent feels no necessity to provide even an isolated statement from the founding era to the effect that corporations are not covered, but places the burden on appellant to bring forward statements showing that they are. Ibid. (“[T]here is not a scintilla of evidence to support the notion that anyone believed [the First Amendment] would preclude regulatory distinctions based on the corporate form”).

Despite the corporation-hating quotations the dissent has dredged up, it is far from clear that by the end of the 18th century corporations were despised. If so, how came there to be so many of them? The dissent’s statement that there were few business corporations during the 18th century— “only a few hundred during all of the 18th century” — is mis*387leading. Post, at 426, n. 53. There were approximately 335 charters issued to business corporations in the United States by the end of the 18th century.2 See 2 J. Davis, Essays in the Earlier History of American Corporations 24 (1917) (reprinted 2006) (hereinafter Davis). This was a “considerable extension of corporate enterprise in the field of business,” id., at 8, and represented “unprecedented growth,” id., at 309. Moreover, what seems like a small number by today’s standards surely does not indicate the relative importance of corporations when the Nation was considerably smaller. As I have previously noted, “[b]y the end of the eighteenth century the corporation was a familiar figure in American economic life.” McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 540 U. S. 93, 256 (2003) (Scalia, J., concurring in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part) (quoting C. Cooke, Corporation Trust and Company 92 (1951) (hereinafter Cooke); internal quotation marks omitted).

Even if we thought it proper to apply the dissent’s approach of excluding from First Amendment coverage what the Founders disliked, and even if we agreed that the Founders disliked founding-era corporations, modern corporations might not qualify for exclusion. Most of the Founders’ resentment toward corporations was directed at the state-granted monopoly privileges that individually chartered corporations enjoyed.3 Modern corporations do not have such *388privileges, and would probably have been favored by most of our enterprising Founders — excluding, perhaps, Thomas Jefferson and others favoring perpetuation of an agrarian society. Moreover, if the Founders’ specific intent with re-speet to corporations is what matters, why does the dissent ignore the Founders’ views about other legal entities that have more in common with modern business corporations than the founding-era corporations? At the time of the founding, religious, educational, and literary corporations were incorporated under general incorporation statutes, much as business corporations are today.4 See Davis 16-17; R. Seavoy, Origins of the American Business Corporation, 1784-1855, p. 5 (1982); Cooke 94. There were also small unincorporated business associations, which some have argued were the “‘true progenitors’” of today’s business corporations. Friedman 200 (quoting S. Livermore, Early American Land Companies: Their Influence on Corporate Development 216 (1939)); see also Davis 33. Were all of these silently excluded from the protections of the First Amendment?

The lack of a textual exception for speech by corporations cannot be explained on the ground that such organizations did not exist or did not speak. To the contrary, colleges, towns and cities, religious institutions, and guilds had long been organized as corporations at common law and under the King’s charter, see 1 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England 455-473 (1765); 1 S. Kyd, A Treatise on the Law of Corporations 1-32, 63 (1793) (reprinted 2006), and as *389I have discussed, the practice of incorporation only expanded in the United States. Both corporations and voluntary associations actively petitioned the Government and expressed their views in newspapers and pamphlets. For example: An antislavery Quaker corporation petitioned the First Congress, distributed pamphlets, and communicated through the press in 1790. W. diGiacomantonio, “For the Gratification of a Volunteering Society”: Antislavery and Pressure Group Politics in the First Federal Congress, 15 J. Early Republic 169 (1995). The New York Sons of Liberty sent a circular to Colonies farther south in 1766. P. Maier, From Resistance to Revolution 79-80 (1972). And the Society for the Relief and Instruction of Poor Germans circulated a biweekly paper from 1755 to 1757. Adams, The Colonial German-language Press and the American Revolution, in The Press & the American Revolution 151, 161-162 (B. Bailyn & J. Hench eds. 1980). The dissent offers no evidence— none whatever — that the First Amendment’s unqualified text was originally understood to exclude such associational speech from its protection.5

*390Historical evidence relating to the textually similar clause “the freedom of. . . the press” also provides no support for the proposition that the First Amendment excludes conduct of artificial legal entities from the scope of its protection. The freedom of “the press” was widely understood to protect the publishing activities of individual editors and printers. See McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U. S. 334, 360 (1995) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment); see also McConnell, 540 U. S., at 252-253 (opinion of Scalia, J.). But these individuals often acted through newspapers, which (much like corporations) had their own names, outlived the individuals who had founded them, could be bought and sold, were sometimes owned by more than one person, and were operated for profit. See generally F. Mott, American Journalism: A History of Newspapers in the United States Through 250 Years 3-164 (1941); J. Smith, Freedom’s Fetters (1956). Their activities were not stripped of First Amendment protection simply because they were carried out under the banner of an artificial legal entity. And the notion which follows from the dissent’s view, that modern newspapers, since they are incorporated, have free-speech rights only at the sufferance of Congress, boggles the mind.6

*391In passing, the dissent also claims that the Court’s conception of corruption is unhistorical. The Framers “would have been appalled,” it says, by the evidence of corruption in the congressional findings supporting the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002. Post, at 451-452. For this proposition, the dissent cites a law-review article arguing that “corruption” was originally understood to include “moral decay” and even actions taken by citizens in pursuit of private rather than public ends. Teachout, The Anti-Corruption Principle, 94 Cornell L. Rev. 341, 373, 378 (2009). It is hard to see how this has anything to do with what sort of corruption can be combated by restrictions on political speech. Moreover, if speech can be prohibited because, in the view of the Government, it leads to “moral decay” or does not serve “public ends,” then there is no limit to the Government’s censorship power.

The dissent says that when the Framers “constitutionalized the right to free speech in the First Amendment, it was the free speech of individual Americans that they had in mind.” Post, at 428. That is no doubt true. All the provisions of the Bill of Rights set forth the rights of individual *392men and women — not, for example, of trees or polar bears. But the individual person’s right to speak includes the right to speak in association with other individual persons. Surely the dissent does not believe that speech by the Republican Party or the Democratic Party can be censored because it is not the speech of “an individual American.” It is the speech of many individual Americans, who have associated in a common cause, giving the leadership of the party the right to speak on their behalf. The association of individuals in a business corporation is no different — or at least it cannot be denied the right to speak on the simplistic ground that it is not “an individual American.”7

But to return to, and summarize, my principal point, which is the conformity of today’s opinion with the original meaning of the First Amendment. The Amendment is written in terms of “speech,” not speakers. Its text offers no foothold *393for excluding any category of speaker, from single individuals to partnerships of individuals, to unincorporated associations of individuals, to incorporated associations of individuals — and the dissent offers no evidence about the original meaning of the text to support any such exclusion. We are therefore simply left with the question whether the speech at issue in this case is “speech” covered by the First Amendment. No one says otherwise. A documentary film critical of a potential Presidential candidate is core political speech, and its nature as such does not change simply because it was funded by a corporation. Nor does the character of that funding produce any reduction whatever in the “inherent worth of the speech” and “its capacity for informing the public,” First Nat. Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, 777 (1978). Indeed, to exclude or impede corporate speech is to muzzle the principal agents of the modern free economy. We should celebrate rather than condemn the addition of this speech to the public debate.

Justice Stevens,

with whom Justice Ginsbueg, Justice Breyer, and Justice Sotomayor join, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

The real issue in this case concerns how, not if, the appellant may finance its electioneering. Citizens United is a wealthy nonprofit corporation that runs a political action committee (PAC) with millions of dollars in assets. Under the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA), it could have used those assets to televise and promote Hillary: The Movie wherever and whenever it wanted to. It also could have spent unrestricted sums to broadcast Hillary at any time other than the 30 days before the last primary election. Neither Citizens United’s nor any other corporation’s speech has been “banned,” ante, at 319. All that the parties dispute is whether Citizens United had a right to use the funds in its general treasury to pay for broadcasts during the 30-day period. The notion that the First Amendment *394dictates an affirmative answer to that question is, in my judgment, profoundly misguided. Even more misguided is the notion that the Court must rewrite the law relating to campaign expenditures by for-profit corporations and unions to decide this case.

The basic premise underlying the Court’s ruling is its iteration, and constant reiteration, of the proposition that the First Amendment bars regulatory distinctions based on a speaker’s identity, including its “identity” as a corporation. While that glittering generality has rhetorical appeal, it is not a correct statement of the law. Nor does it tell us when a corporation may engage in electioneering that some of its shareholders oppose. It does not even resolve the specific question whether Citizens United may be required to finance some of its messages with the money in its PAC. The conceit that corporations must be treated identically to natural persons in the political sphere is not only inaccurate but also inadequate to justify the Court’s disposition of this case.

In the context of election to public office, the distinction between corporate and human speakers is significant. Although they make enormous contributions to our society, corporations are not actually members of it. They cannot vote or run for office. Because they may be managed and controlled by nonresidents, their interests may conflict in fundamental respects with the interests of eligible voters. The financial resources, legal structure, and instrumental orientation of corporations raise legitimate concerns about their role in the electoral process. Our lawmakers have a compelling constitutional basis, if not also a democratic duty, to take measures designed to guard against the potentially deleterious effects of corporate spending in local and national races.

The majority’s approach to corporate electioneering marks a dramatic break from our past. Congress has placed special limitations on campaign spending by corporations ever since the passage of the Tillman Act in 1907, ch. 420, 34 Stat. 864. We have unanimously concluded that this “reflects a *395permissible assessment of the dangers posed by those entities to the electoral process,” FEC v. National Right to Work Comm., 459 U. S. 197, 209 (1982) (NRWC), and have accepted the “legislative judgment that the special characteristics of the corporate structure require particularly careful regulation,” id., at 209-210. The Court today rejects a century of history when it treats the distinction between corporate and individual campaign spending as an invidious novelty born of Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce, 494 U. S. 652 (1990). Relying largely on individual dissenting opinions, the majority blazes through our precedents, overruling or disavowing a body of case law including FEC v. Wisconsin Right to Life, Inc., 551 U. S. 449 (2007) (WRTL), McConnell v. FEC, 540 U. S. 93 (2003), FEC v. Beaumont, 539 U. S. 146 (2003), FEC v. Massachusetts Citizens for Life, Inc., 479 U. S. 238 (1986) (MCFL), NRWC, 459 U. S. 197, and California Medical Assn. v. FEC, 453 U. S. 182 (1981).

In his landmark concurrence in Ashwander v. TVA, 297 U. S. 288, 346 (1936), Justice Brandéis stressed the importance of adhering to rules the Court has “developed ... for its own governance” when deciding constitutional questions. Because departures from those rules always enhance the risk of error, I shall review the background of this case in some detail before explaining why the Court’s analysis rests on a faulty understanding of Austin and McConnell and of our campaign finance jurisprudence more generally.1 I regret the length of what follows, but the importance and novelty of the Court’s opinion require a full response. Although *396I concur in the Court’s decision to sustain BCRA’s disclosure provisions and join Part IV of its opinion, I emphatically dissent from its principal holding.

I

The Court’s ruling threatens to undermine the integrity of elected institutions across the Nation. The path it has taken to reach its outcome will, I fear, do damage to this institution. Before turning to the question whether to overrule Austin and part of McConnell, it is important to explain why the Court should not be deciding that question.

Scope of the Case

The first reason is that the question was not properly brought before us. In declaring § 203 of BCRA facially unconstitutional on the ground that corporations’ electoral expenditures may not be regulated any more stringently than those of individuals, the majority decides this case on a basis relinquished below, not included in the questions presented to us by the litigants, and argued here only in response to the Court’s invitation. This procedure is unusual and inadvisable for a court.2 Our colleagues’ suggestion that “we are asked to reconsider Austin and, in effect, McConnell,” ante, at 319, would be more accurate if rephrased to state that “we have asked ourselves” to reconsider those cases.

In the District Court, Citizens United initially raised a facial challenge to the constitutionality of §203. App. 23a-*39724a. In its motion for summary judgment, however, Citizens United expressly abandoned its facial challenge, 1:07-cv-2240-RCL-RWR, Docket Entry No. 52, pp. 1-2 (May 16, 2008), and the parties stipulated to the dismissal of that claim, id., Nos. 53 (May 22,2008), 54 (May 23, 2008), App. 6a. The District Court therefore resolved the case on alternative grounds,3 and in its jurisdictional statement to this Court, Citizens United properly advised us that it was raising only “an as-applied challenge to the constitutionality of... BCRA §203.” Juris. Statement 5. The jurisdictional statement never so much as cited Austin, the key case the majority today overrules. And not one of the questions presented suggested that Citizens United was surreptitiously raising the facial challenge to § 203 that it previously agreed to dismiss. In fact, not one of those questions raised an issue based on Citizens United’s corporate status. Juris. Statement (i). Moreover, even in its merits briefing, when Citizens United injected its request to overrule Austin, it never sought a declaration that § 203 was facially unconstitutional as to all corporations and unions; instead it argued only that the statute could not be applied to it because it was “fimded overwhelmingly by individuals. ” Brief for Appellant 29; see also id., at 10, 12, 16, 28 (affirming “as applied” character of challenge to §203); Tr. of Oral Arg. 4-9 (Mar. 24, 2009) (coun*398sel for Citizens United conceding that § 203 could be applied to General Motors); id., at 55 (counsel for Citizens United stating that “we accept the Court’s decision in [WRTL]”).

“ ‘It is only in exceptional cases coming here from the federal courts that questions not pressed or passed upon below are reviewed,’ ” Youakim v. Miller, 425 U. S. 231, 234 (1976) (per curiam) (quoting Duignan v. United States, 274 U. S. 195, 200 (1927)), and it is “only in the most exceptional cases” that we will consider issues outside the questions presented, Stone v. Powell, 428 U. S. 465, 481, n. 15 (1976). The appellant in this case did not so much as assert an exceptional circumstance, and one searches the majority opinion in vain for the mention of any. That is unsurprising, for none exists.

Setting the case for reargument was a constructive step, but it did not cure this fundamental problem. Essentially, five Justices were unhappy with the limited nature of the case before us, so they changed the case to give themselves an opportunity to change the law.

As-Applied and Facial Challenges

This Court has repeatedly emphasized in recent years that “[fjacial challenges are disfavored.” Washington State Grange v. Washington State Republican Party, 552 U. S. 442, 450 (2008); see also Ayotte v. Planned Parenthood of Northern New Eng., 546 U. S. 320, 329 (2006) (“[T]he ‘normal rule’ is that ‘partial, rather .than facial, invalidation is the required course,’ such that a ‘statute may ... be declared invalid to the extent that it reaches too far, but otherwise left intact’ ” (quoting Brockett v. Spokane Arcades, Inc., 472 U. S. 491, 504 (1985); alteration in original)). By declaring § 203 facially unconstitutional, our colleagues have turned an as-applied challenge into a facial challenge, in defiance of this principle.

This is not merely a technical defect in the Court’s decision. The unnecessary resort to a facial inquiry “run[s] con*399trary to the fundamental principle of judicial restraint that courts should neither anticipate a question of constitutional law in advance of the necessity of deciding it nor formulate a rule of constitutional law broader than is required by the precise facts to which it is to be applied.” Washington State Grange, 552 U. S., at 450 (internal quotation marks omitted). Scanting that principle “threaten[s] to short circuit the democratic process by preventing laws embodying the will of the people from being implemented in a manner consistent with the Constitution.” Id., at 451. These concerns are heightened when judges overrule settled doctrine upon which the legislature has relied. The Court operates with a sledge hammer rather than a scalpel when it strikes down one of Congress’ most significant efforts to regulate the role that corporations and unions play in electoral polities. It compounds the offense by implicitly striking down a great many state laws as well.

The problem goes still deeper, for the Court does all of this on the basis of pure speculation. Had Citizens United maintained a facial challenge, and thus argued that there are virtually no circumstances in which BCRA §203 can be applied constitutionally, the parties could have developed, through the normal process of litigation, a record about the actual effects of § 203, its actual burdens and its actual benefits, on all manner of corporations and unions.4 “Claims of facial invalidity often rest on speculation,” and consequently “raise the risk of premature interpretation of statutes on the *400basis of factually barebones records.” Id., at 450 (internal quotation marks omitted). In this case, the record is not simply incomplete or unsatisfactory; it is nonexistent. Congress crafted BCRA in response to a virtual mountain of research on the corruption that previous legislation had failed to avert. The Court now negates Congress’ efforts without a shred of evidence on how §203 or its state-law counterparts have been affecting any entity other than Citizens United.5

Faced with this gaping empirical hole, the majority throws up its hands. Were we to confine our inquiry to Citizens United’s as-applied challenge, it protests, we would commence an “extended” process of “draw[ing], and then redrawing], constitutional lines based on the particular media or technology used to disseminate political speech from a particular speaker.” Ante, at 326. While tacitly acknowledging that some applications of § 203 might be found constitutional, the majority thus posits a future in which novel First Amendment standards must be devised on an ad hoc basis, and then leaps from this unfounded prediction to the unfounded conclusion that such complexity counsels the abandonment of all normal restraint. Yet it is a pervasive *401feature of regulatory systems that unanticipated events, such as new technologies, may raise some unanticipated difficulties at the margins. The fluid nature of electioneering communications does not make this case special. The fact that a Court can hypothesize situations in which a statute might, at some point down the line, pose some unforeseen as-applied problems, does not come close to meeting the standard for a facial challenge.6

The majority proposes several other justifications for the sweep of its ruling. It suggests that a facial ruling is necessary because, if the Court were to continue on its normal course of resolving as-applied challenges as they present themselves, that process would itself run afoul of the First Amendment. See, e. g., ante, at 326 (as-applied review process “would raise questions as to the courts’ own lawful authority”); ibid. (“Courts, too, are bound by the First Amendment”). This suggestion is perplexing. Our colleagues elsewhere trumpet “our duty ‘to say what the law is,’ ” even when our predecessors on the bench and our counterparts in Congress have interpreted the law differently. Ante, at 365 (quoting Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137, 177 (1803)). We do not typically say what the law is not as a hedge against future judicial error. The possibility that later courts will misapply a constitutional provision does not give

*402us a basis for pretermitting litigation relating to that provision.7

The majority suggests that a facial ruling is necessary because anything less would chill too much protected speech. See ante, at 326-327, 329, 333-336. In addition to begging the question what types of corporate spending are constitutionally protected and to what extent, this claim rests on the assertion that some significant number of corporations have been cowed into quiescence by FEC “ ‘censorship].’ ” Ante, at 335. That assertion is unsubstantiated, and it is hard to square with practical experience. It is particularly hard to square with the legal landscape following WRTL, which held that a corporate communication could be regulated under §203 only if it was “susceptible of no reasonable interpretation other than as an appeal to vote for or against a specific candidate.” 551 U. S., at 470 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (emphasis added). The whole point of this test was to make §203 as simple and speech-protective as possible. The Court does not explain how, in the span of a single election cycle, it has determined The Chief Justice’s project to be a failure. In this respect, too, the majority’s critique of line-drawing collapses into a critique of the as-applied review method generally.8

*403The majority suggests that, even though it expressly dismissed its facial challenge, Citizens United nevertheless preserved it — not as a freestanding “claim,” but as a potential argument in support of “a claim that the FEC has violated its First Amendment right to free speech.” Ante, at 330; see also ante, at 376 (Roberts, C. J., concurring) (describing Citizens United’s claim as: “[T]he Act violates the First Amendment”). By this novel logic, virtually any submission could be reconceptualized as “a claim that the Government has violated my rights,” and it would then be available to the Court to entertain any conceivable issue that might be relevant to that claim’s disposition. Not only the as-applied/facial distinction, but the basic relationship between litigants and courts, would be upended if the latter had free rein to construe the former’s claims at such high levels of generality. There would be no need for plaintiffs to argue their case; they could just cite the constitutional provisions they think relevant, and leave the rest to us.9

Finally, the majority suggests that though the scope of Citizens United’s claim may be narrow, a facial ruling is necessary as a matter of remedy. Relying on a law review article, it asserts that Citizens United’s dismissal of the facial challenge does not prevent us “ ‘from making broader pronouncements of invalidity in properly “as-applied” cases.’” Ante, at 331 (quoting Fallon, As-Applied and Facial Challenges and *404Third-Party Standing, 113 Harv. L. Rev. 1321, 1339 (2000) (hereinafter Fallon)); accord, ante, at 376 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (“Regardless whether we label Citizens United’s claim a ‘facial’ or ‘as-applied’ challenge, the consequences of the Court’s decision are the same”). The majority is on firmer conceptual ground here. Yet even if one accepts this part of Professor Fallon’s thesis, one must proceed to ask which as-applied challenges, if successful, will “properly” invite or entail invalidation of the underlying statute.10 The paradigmatic case is a judicial determination that the legislature acted with an impermissible purpose in enacting a provision, as this carries the necessary implication that all fiiture as-applied challenges to the provision must prevail. See Fallon 1339-1340.

Citizens United’s as-applied challenge was not of this sort. Until this Court ordered reargument, its contention was that BCRA § 208 could not lawfully be applied to a feature-length video-on-demand film (such as Hillary) or to a nonprofit corporation exempt from taxation under 26 U. S. C. § 501(c)(4)11 and funded overwhelmingly by individuals (such as itself). See Brief for Appellant 16-41. Success on either of these claims would not necessarily carry any implications for the validity of § 203 as applied to other types of broadcasts, other *405types of corporations, or unions. It certainly would not invalidate the statute as applied to a large for-profit corporation. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 8, 4 (Mar. 24, 2009) (counsel for Citizens United emphasizing that appellant is “a small, nonprofit organization, which is very much like [an MCFL corporation],” and affirming that its argument “definitely would not be the same” if Hillary were distributed by General Motors).12 There is no legitimate basis for resurrecting a facial challenge that dropped out of this case 20 months ago.

Narrower Grounds

It is all the more distressing that our colleagues have manufactured a facial challenge, because the parties have advanced numerous ways to resolve the case that would facilitate electioneering by nonprofit advocacy corporations such as Citizens United, without toppling statutes and precedents. Which is to say, the majority has transgressed yet another “cardinal” principle of the judicial process: “[I]f it is not necessary to decide more, it is necessary not to decide more,” PDK Labs. Inc. v. Drug Enforcement Admin., 362 F. 3d 786, *406799 (CADC 2004) (Roberts, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment).

Consider just three of the narrower grounds of decision that the majority has bypassed. First, the Court eould have ruled, on statutory grounds, that a feature-length film distributed through video-on-demand does not qualify as an “electioneering communication” under §203 of BCRA, 2 U. S. C. § 441b. BCRA defines that term to encompass certain communications transmitted by “broadcast, cable, or satellite.” § 434(f)(3)(A). When Congress was developing BCRA, the video-on-demand medium was still in its infancy, and legislators were focused on a very different sort of programming: short advertisements run on television or radio. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 207. The sponsors of BCRA acknowledge that the FEC’s implementing regulations do not clearly apply to video-on-demand transmissions. See Brief for Senator John McCain et al. as Amici Curiae 17-18. In light of this ambiguity, the distinctive characteristics of video-on-demand, and “[t]he elementary rule . . . that every reasonable construction must be resorted to, in order to save a statute from unconstitutionality,” Hooper v. California, 155 U. S. 648, 657 (1895), the Court could have reasonably ruled that §203 does not apply to Hillary.13

Second, the Court could have expanded the MCFL exemption to cover § 501(c)(4) nonprofits that accept only a de minimis amount of money from for-profit corporations. Citizens United professes to be such a group: Its brief says it “is funded predominantly by donations from individuals who support [its] ideological message.” Brief for Appellant 5. Numerous Courts of Appeals have held that de minimis business support does not, in itself, remove an otherwise *407qualifying organization from the ambit of MCFL.14 This Court could have simply followed their lead.15

Finally, let us not forget Citizens United’s as-applied constitutional challenge. Precisely because Citizens United looks so much like the MCFL organizations we have exempted from regulation, while a feature-length video-on-demand film looks so unlike the types of electoral advocacy Congress has found deserving of regulation, this challenge is a substantial one. As the appellant’s own arguments show, the Court could have easily limited the breadth of its constitutional holding had it declined to adopt the novel notion that speakers and speech acts must always be treated identically — and always spared expenditures restrictions — in the political realm. Yet the Court nonetheless turns its back on the as-applied review process that has been a staple of campaign finance litigation since Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 *408(1976) (per curiam), and that was affirmed and expanded just two Terms ago in WRTL, 551 U. S. 449.

This brief tour of alternative grounds on which the ease could have been decided is not meant to show that any of these grounds is ideal, though each is perfectly “valid,” ante, at 329 (majority opinion).16 It is meant to show that there were principled, narrower paths that a Court that was serious about judicial restraint could have taken. There was also the straightforward path: applying Austin and McConnell, just as the District Court did in holding that the funding of Citizens United's film can be regulated under them. The only thing preventing the majority from affirming the District Court, or adopting a narrower ground that would retain Austin, is its disdain for Austin.

II

The final principle of judicial process that the majority violates is the most transparent: stare decisis. I am not an absolutist when it comes to stare decisis, in the campaign finance area or in any other. No one is. But if this principle is to do any meaningful work in supporting the rule of law, it must at least demand a significant justification, beyond the preferences of five Justices, for overturning settled doctrine. “[A] decision to overrule should rest on some special reason *409over and above the belief that a prior case was wrongly decided.” Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U. S. 833, 864 (1992). No such justification exists in this case, and to the contrary there are powerful prudential reasons to keep faith with our precedents.17

The Court’s central argument for why stare decisis ought to be trumped is that it does not like Austin. The opinion “was not well reasoned,” our colleagues assert, and it conflicts with First Amendment principles. Ante, at 363. This, of course, is the Court’s merits argument, the many defects in which we will soon consider. I am perfectly willing to concede that if one of our precedents were dead wrong in its reasoning or irreconcilable with the rest of our doctrine, there would be a compelling basis for revisiting it. But neither is true of Austin, as I explain at length in Parts III and IV, infra, at 414-478, and restating a merits argument with additional vigor does not give it extra weight in the stare decisis calculus.

Perhaps in recognition of this point, the Court supplements its merits case with a smattering of assertions. The Court proclaims that “Austin is undermined by experience since its announcement.” Ante, at 364. This is a curious claim to make in a case that lacks a developed record. The majority has no empirical evidence with which to substantiate the claim; we just have its ipse dixit that the real world has not been kind to Austin. Nor does the majority bother to specify in what sense Austin has been “undermined. ” Instead it treats the reader to a string of non sequiturs: “Our Nation’s speech dynamic is changing,” ante, at 364; “[speakers have become adept at presenting citizens with sound bites, talking points, and scripted messages,” ibid.; “[corporations ... do not have monolithic views,” ibid. How any *410of these ruminations weakens the force of stare decisis escapes my comprehension.18

The majority also contends that the Government’s hesitation to rely on Austin’s antidistortion rationale “diminished]” “the principle of adhering to that precedent.” Ante, at 363; see also ante, at 382 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (Government’s litigating position is “most importan[t]” factor undermining Austin). Why it diminishes the value of stare decisis is left unexplained. We have never thought fit to overrule a precedent because a litigant has taken any particular tack. Nor should we. Our decisions can often be defended on multiple grounds, and a litigant may have strategic or case-specific reasons for emphasizing only a subset of them. Members of the public, moreover, often rely on our bottom-line holdings far more than our precise legal arguments; surely this is true for the legislatures that have been regulating corporate electioneering since Austin. The task of evaluating the continued viability of precedents falls to this Court, not to the parties.19

*411Although the majority opinion spends several pages making these surprising arguments, it says almost nothing about the standard considerations we have used to determine stare decisis value, such as the antiquity of the precedent, the workability of its legal rule, and the reliance interests at stake. It is also conspicuously silent about McConnell, even though the McConnell Court’s decision to uphold BCRA § 203 relied not only on the antidistortion logic of Austin but also on the statute’s historical pedigree, see, e. g., 540 U. S., at 115-132, 223-224, and the need to preserve the integrity of federal campaigns, see id., at 126-129, 205-208, and n. 88.

We have recognized that “[s]tare decisis has special force when legislators or citizens ‘have acted in reliance on a previous decision, for in this instance overruling the decision would dislodge settled rights and expectations or require an extensive legislative response.’ ” Hubbard v. United States, 514 U. S. 695, 714 (1995) (plurality opinion) (quoting Hilton v. South Carolina Public Railways Comm’n, 502 U. S. 197, 202 (1991)). Stare decisis protects not only personal rights involving property or contract but also the ability of the elected branches to shape their laws in an effective and coherent fashion. Today’s decision takes away a power that we have long permitted these branches to exercise. State legislatures have relied on their authority to regulate corporate electioneering, confirmed in Austin, for more than a century.20 The Federal Congress has relied on this authority for a comparable stretch of time, and it specifically relied on Austin throughout the years it spent developing and de*412bating BCR A. The total record it compiled was 100,000 pages long.21 Pulling out the rug beneath Congress after affirming the constitutionality of §203 six years ago show's great disrespect for a coequal branch.

By removing one of its central components, today’s ruling makes a hash out of BCRA’s “delicate and interconnected regulatory scheme.” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 172. Consider just one example of the distortions that will follow: Political parties are barred under BCRA from soliciting or spending “soft money,” funds that are not subject to the statute’s disclosure requirements or its source and amount limitations. 2 U. S. C. § 441i; McConnell, 540 U. S., at 122-126. Going forward, corporations and unions will be free to spend as much general treasury money as they wish on ads that support or attack specific candidates, whereas national parties will not be able to spend a dime of soft money on ads of any kind. The Court’s ruling thus dramatically enhances the role of corporations and unions — and the narrow interests they represent — vis-a-vis the role of political parties— and the broad coalitions they represent — in determining who will hold public office.22

Beyond the reliance interests at stake, the other stare decisis factors also cut against the Court. Considerations of antiquity are significant for similar reasons. McConnell is only six years old, but Austin has been on the books for two decades, and many of the statutes called into question by today’s opinion have been on the books for a half century or more. The Court points to no intervening change in circumstances that warrants revisiting Austin. Certainly nothing *413relevant has changed since we decided WRTL two Terms ago. And the Court gives no reason to think that Austin and McConnell are unworkable.

In fact, no one has argued to us that Austin’s rule has proved impracticable, and not a single for-profit corporation, union, or State has asked us to overrule it. Quite to the contrary, leading groups representing the business community,23 organized labor,24 and the nonprofit sector,25 together with more than half of the States26 urge that we preserve Austin. As for McConnell, the portions of BCR A it upheld may be prolix, but all three branches of Government have worked to make §203 as user-friendly as possible. For instance, Congress established a special mechanism for expedited review of constitutional challenges, see note following 2 U. S. C. §437h; the FEC has established a standardized process, with clearly defined safe harbors, for corporations to claim that a particular electioneering communication is permissible under WRTL, see 11 CFR §114.15 (2009);27 and, as noted above, The Chief Justice crafted his controlling opinion in WRTL with the express goal of maximizing clarity and administrability, 551 U. S., at 469-470, 473-474. The case for stare decisis may be bolstered, we have said, when *414subsequent rulings “have reduced the impact” of a precedent “while reaffirming the decision’s core ruling.” Dickerson v. United States, 530 U. S. 428, 443 (2000).28

In the end, the Court’s rejection of Austin and McConnell comes down to nothing more than its disagreement with their results. Virtually every one of its arguments was made and rejected in those cases, and the majority opinion is essentially an amalgamation of resuscitated dissents. The only relevant thing that has changed since Austin and McConnell is the composition of this Court. Today’s ruling thus strikes at the vitals of stare decisis, “the means by which we ensure that the law will not merely change erratically, but will develop in a principled and intelligible fashion” that “permits society to presume that bedrock principles are founded in the law rather than in the proclivities of individuals.” Vasquez v. Hillery, 474 U. S. 254, 265 (1986).

III

The novelty of the Court’s procedural dereliction and its approach to stare decisis is matched by the novelty of its ruling on the merits. The ruling rests on several premises. First, the Court claims that Austin and McConnell have “banned” corporate speech. Second, it claims that the First Amendment precludes regulatory distinctions based on speaker identity, including the speaker’s identity as a corpo*415ration. Third, it claims that Austin and McConnell were radical outliers in our First Amendment tradition and our campaign finance jurisprudence. Each of these claims is wrong.

The So-Called “Ban”

Pervading the Court’s analysis is the ominous image of a “categorical ba[n]” on corporate speech. Ante, at 361. Indeed, the majority invokes the specter of a “ban” on nearly every page of its opinion. Ante, at 319, 321, 324, 327, 328, 329, 330, 333, 337, 339, 340, 343, 344, 345, 346, 347, 349, 351, 354, 355, 358, 360, 361, 362, 364, 369. This characterization is highly misleading, and needs to be corrected.

In fact it already has been. Our cases have repeatedly pointed out that, “[c]ontrary to the [majority’s] critical assumptions,” the statutes upheld in Austin and McConnell do “not impose an absolute ban on all forms of corporate political spending.” Austin, 494 U. S., at 660; see also McConnell, 540 U. S., at 203-204; Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 162-163. For starters, both statutes provide exemptions for PACs, separate segregated funds established by a corporation for political purposes. See 2 U. S. C. § 441b(b)(2)(C); Mich. Comp. Laws Ann. §169.255 (West 2005). “The ability to form and administer separate segregated funds,” we observed in McConnell, “has provided corporations and unions with a constitutionally sufficient opportunity to engage in express advocacy. That has been this Court’s unanimous view.” 540 U. S., at 203.

Under BCRA, any corporation’s “stockholders and their families and its executive or administrative personnel and their families” can pool their resources to finance electioneering communications. 2 U. S. C. § 441b(b)(4)(A)(i). A significant and growing number of corporations avail themselves of this option;29 during the most recent election cycle, *416corporate and union PACs raised nearly a billion dollars.30 Administering a PAC entails some administrative burden, but so does complying with the disclaimer, disclosure, and reporting requirements that the Court today upholds, see ante, at 366-367, and no one has suggested that the burden is severe for a sophisticated for-profit corporation. To the extent the majority is worried about this issue, it is important to keep in mind that we have no record to show how substantial the burden really is, just the majority’s own unsupported factfinding, see ante, at 337-339. Like all other natural persons, every shareholder of every corporation remains entirely free under Austin and McConnell to do however much electioneering she pleases outside of the corporate form. The owners of a “mom & pop” store can simply place ads in their own names, rather than the store’s. If ideologically aligned individuals wish to make unlimited expenditures through the corporate form, they may utilize an MCFL organization that has policies in place to avoid becoming a conduit for business or union interests. See MCFL, 479 U. S., at 263-264.

The laws upheld in Austin and McConnell leave open many additional avenues for corporations’ political speech. Consider the statutory provision we are ostensibly evaluating in this case, BCRA § 203. It has no application to genuine issue advertising — a category of corporate speech Congress found to be far more substantial than election-related advertising, see McConnell, 540 U. S., at 207 — or to Internet, *417telephone, and print advocacy.31 Like numerous statutes, it exempts media companies' news stories, commentaries, and editorials from its electioneering restrictions, in recognition of the unique role played by the institutional press in sustaining public debate.32 See 2 U. S. C. § 434(f)(3)(B)(i); McConnell, 540 U. S., at 208-209; see also Austin, 494 U. S., at 666-668. It also allows corporations to spend unlimited sums on political communications with their executives and shareholders, § 441b(b)(2)(A); 11 CFR § 114.3(a)(1), to fund additional PAC activity through trade associations, 2 U. S. C. § 441b(b)(4)(D), to distribute voting guides and voting records, 11 CFR §§ 114.4(c)(4)-(5), to underwrite voter registration and voter turnout activities, § 114.3(c)(4); § 114.4(c)(2), to host fundraising events for candidates within certain limits, *418§ 114.4(c); § 114.2(f)(2), and to publicly endorse candidates through a press release and press conference, § 114.4(c)(6).

At the time Citizens United brought this lawsuit, the only types of speech that could be regulated under §203 were: (1) broadcast, cable, or satellite communications;33 (2) capable of reaching at least 50,000 persons in the relevant electorate;34 (3) made within 30 days of a primary or 60 days of a general federal election;35 (4) by a labor union or a nonMCFL, nonmedia corporation;36 (5) paid for with general treasury funds;37 and (6) “susceptible of no reasonable interpretation other than as an appeal to vote for or against a specific candidate.”38 The category of communications meeting all of these criteria is not trivial, but the notion that corporate political speech has been “suppressfed] . . . altogether,” ante, at 319, that corporations have been “exelu[ded] . . . from the general public dialogue,” ante, at 341, or that a work of fiction such as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington might be covered, ante, at 371-372, is nonsense.39 Even the plaintiffs in McConnell, who had every incentive to depict BORA as negatively as possible, declined to argue that § 203’s prohibition on certain uses of general treasury funds amounts to a complete ban. See 540 U. S., at 204.

*419In many ways, then, §203 functions as a source restriction or a time, place, and manner restriction. It applies in a viewpoint-neutral fashion to a narrow subset of advocacy messages about clearly identified candidates for federal office, made during discrete time periods through discrete channels. In the case at hand, all Citizens United needed to do to broadcast Hillary right before the primary was to abjure business contributions or use the funds in its PAC, which by its own account is “one of the most active conservative PACs in America,” Citizens United Political Victory Fund, http://www.cupvf.org/.40

So let us be clear: Neither Austin nor McConnell held or implied that corporations may be silenced; the FEC is not a “censor”; and in the years since these cases were decided, corporations have continued to play a major role in the national dialogue. Laws such as §203 target a class of communications that is especially likely to corrupt the political process, that is at least one degree removed from the views of individual citizens, and that may not even reflect the views of those who pay for it. Such laws burden political speech, and that is always a serious matter, demanding careful scrutiny. But the majority’s incessant talk of a “ban” aims at a straw man.

Identity-Based Distinctions

The second pillar of the Court’s opinion is its assertion that “the Government cannot restrict political speech based on the speaker’s . . . identity.” Ante, at 346; accord, ante, at 319, 340-341, 342-343, 346-347, 347, 348, 349, 350, 364, 365. *420The case on which it relies for this proposition is First Nat. Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765 (1978). As I shall explain, infra, at 442-446, the holding in that case was far narrower than the Court implies. Like its paeans to unfettered discourse, the Court’s denunciation of identity-based distinctions may have rhetorical appeal but it obscures reality.

“Our jurisprudence over the past 216 years has rejected an absolutist interpretation” of the First Amendment. WRTL, 551 U. S., at 482 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.). The First Amendment provides that “Congress shall make no law ... abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press.” Apart perhaps from measures designed to protect the press, that text might seem to permit no distinctions of any kind. Yet in a variety of contexts, we have held that speech can be regulated differentially on account of the speaker’s identity, when identity is understood in categorical or institutional terms. The Government routinely places special restrictions on the speech rights of students,41 prisoners,42 members of the Armed Forces,43 foreigners,44 and its own employees.45 *421When such restrictions are justified by a legitimate governmental interest, they do not necessarily raise constitutional problems.46 In contrast to the blanket rule that the majority espouses, our cases recognize that the Government’s interests may be more or less compelling with respect to different classes of speakers,47 cf. Minneapolis Star & Tribune Co. v. Minnesota Comm’r of Revenue, 460 U. S. 575, 585 (1983) (“[Djifferential treatment” is constitutionally suspect “unless justified by some special characteristic” of the regulated class of speakers (emphasis added)), and that the constitutional rights of certain categories of speakers, in certain contexts, “‘are not automatically coextensive with the rights’ ” that are normally accorded to members of our soci*422ety, Morse v. Frederick, 551 U. S. 393, 396-397, 404 (2007) (quoting Bethel School Dist. No. 403 v. Fraser, 478 U. S. 675, 682 (1986)).

The free speech guarantee thus does not render every other public interest an illegitimate basis for qualifying a speaker’s autonomy; society could scarcely function if it did. It is fair to say that our First Amendment doctrine has “frowned on” certain identity-based distinctions, Los Angeles Police Dept. v. United Reporting Publishing Corp., 528 U. S. 32, 47, n. 4 (1999) (Stevens, J., dissenting), particularly those that may reflect invidious discrimination or preferential treatment of a politically powerful group. But it is simply incorrect to suggest that we have prohibited all legislative distinctions based on identity or content. Not even close.

The election context is distinctive in many ways, and the Court, of course, is right thát the First Amendment closely guards political speech. But in this context, too, the authority of legislatures to enact viewpoint-neutral regulations based on content and identity is well settled. We have, for example, allowed state-run broadcasters to exclude independent candidates from televised debates. Arkansas Ed. Television Comm’n v. Forbes, 523 U. S. 666 (1998).48 We have upheld statutes that prohibit the distribution or display of campaign materials near a polling place. Burson v. Freeman, 504 U. S. 191 (1992).49 Although we have not reviewed *423them directly, we have never cast doubt on laws that place special restrictions on campaign spending by foreign nationals. See, e. g., 2 U. S. C. § 441e(a)(1). And we have consistently approved laws that bar Government employees, but not others, from contributing to or participating in political activities. See n. 45, supra. These statutes burden the political expression of one class of speakers, namely, civil servants. Yet we have sustained them on the basis of longstanding practice and Congress’ reasoned judgment that certain regulations which leave “untouched full participation ... in political decisions at the ballot box,” Civil Service Comm’n v. Letter Carriers, 413 U. S. 548, 556 (1973) (internal quotation marks omitted), help ensure that public officials are “sufficiently free from improper influences,” id., at 564, and that “confidence in the system of representative Government is not... eroded to a disastrous extent,” id., at 565.

The same logic applies to this case with additional force because it is the identity of corporations, rather than individuals, that the Legislature has taken into account. As we have unanimously observed, legislatures are entitled to decide “that the special characteristics of the corporate structure require particularly careful regulation” in an electoral context. NRWC, 459 U. S., at 209-210.50 Not only has the distinctive potential of corporations to corrupt the electoral process long been recognized, but within the area of campaign finance, corporate spending is also “furthest from the core of political expression, since corporations’ First Amendment speech and association interests are derived largely *424from those of their members and of the public in receiving information,” Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 161, n. 8 (citation omitted). Campaign finance distinctions based on corporate identity tend to be less worrisome, in other words, because the “speakers” are not natural persons, much less members of our political community, and the governmental interests are of the highest order. Furthermore, when corporations, as a class, are distinguished from noncorporations, as a class, there is a lesser risk that regulatory distinctions will reflect invidious discrimination or political favoritism.

If taken seriously, our colleagues’ assumption that the identity of a speaker has no relevance to the Government’s ability to regulate political speech would lead to some remarkable conclusions. Such an assumption would have accorded the propaganda broadcasts to our troops by “Tokyo Rose” during World War II the same protection as speech by Allied commanders. More pertinently, it would appear to afford the same protection to multinational corporations controlled by foreigners as to individual Americans: To do otherwise, after all, could “ ‘enhance the relative voice’ ” of some (i. e., humans) over others (i. e., nonhumans). Ante, at 349-350 (quoting Buckley, 424 U. S., at 49).51 Under the *425majority’s view, I suppose it may be a First Amendment problem that corporations are not permitted to vote, given that voting is, among other things, a form of speech.52

In short, the Court dramatically overstates its critique of identity-based distinctions, without ever explaining why corporate identity demands the same treatment as individual identity. Only the most wooden approach to the First Amendment could justify the unprecedented line it seeks to draw.

Our First Amendment Tradition

A third fulcrum of the Court’s opinion is the idea that Austin and McConnell are radical outliers, “aberration[s],” in our First Amendment tradition. Ante, at 355; see also ante, at 361, 372 (professing fidelity to “our law and our tradition”). The Court has it exactly backwards. It is today’s holding that is the radical departure from what had been settled First Amendment law. To see why, it is useful to take a long view.

1. Original Understandings

Let us start from the beginning. The Court invokes “ancient First Amendment principles,” ante, at 319 (internal quotation marks omitted), and original understandings, ante, at 353-354, to defend today’s ruling, yet it makes only a perfunctory attempt to ground its analysis in the principles or *426understandings of those who drafted and ratified the Amendment. Perhaps this is because there is not a scintilla of evidence to support the notion that anyone believed it would preclude regulatory distinctions based on the corporate form. To the extent that the Framers’ views are discernible and relevant to the disposition of this case, they would appear to cut strongly against the majority’s position.

This is not only because the Framers and their contemporaries conceived of speech more narrowly than we now think of it, see Bork, Neutral Principles and Some First Amendment Problems, 47 Ind. L. J. 1, 22 (1971), but also because they held very different views about the nature of the First Amendment right and the role of corporations in society. Those few corporations that existed at the founding were authorized by grant of a special legislative charter.53 Corporate sponsors would petition the legislature, and the legislature, if amenable, would issue a charter that specified the corporation’s powers and purposes and “authoritatively fixed *427the scope and content of corporate organization,” including “the internal structure of the corporation.” J. Hurst, The Legitimacy of the Business Corporation in the Law of the United States 1780-1970, pp. 15-16 (1970) (reprinted 2004). Corporations were created, supervised, and conceptualized as quasi-public entities, “designed to serve a social function for the state.” Handlin & Handlin, Origins of the American Business Corporation, 5 J. Econ. Hist. 1, 22 (1945). It was “assumed that [they] were legally privileged organizations that had to be closely scrutinized by the legislature because their purposes had to be made consistent with public welfare.” R. Seavoy, Origins of the American Business Corporation, 1784-1855, p. 5 (1982).

The individualized charter mode of incorporation reflected the “cloud of disfavor under which corporations labored” in the early years of this Nation. 1 W. Fletcher, Cyclopedia of the Law of Corporations §2, p. 8 (rev. ed. 2006); see also Louis K. Liggett Co. v. Lee, 288 U. S. 517, 548-549 (1933) (Brandeis, J., dissenting) (discussing fears of the “evils” of business corporations); L. Friedman, A History of American Law 194 (2d ed. 1985) (“The word 'soulless’ constantly recurs in debates over corporations.... Corporations, it was feared, could concentrate the worst urges of whole groups of men”). Thomas Jefferson famously fretted that corporations would subvert the Republic.54 General incorporation statutes, and widespread acceptance of business corporations as socially useful actors, did not emerge until the 1800’s. See Hansmann & Kraakman, The End of History for Corporate Law, 89 Geo. L. J. 439, 440 (2001) (hereinafter Hansmann & Kraakman) (“[A]ll general business corporation statutes appear to date from well after 1800”).

*428The Framers thus took it as a given that corporations could be comprehensively regulated in the service of the public welfare. Unlike our colleagues, they had little trouble distinguishing corporations from human beings, and when they constitutionalized the right to free speech in the First Amendment, it was the free speech of individual Americans that they had in mind.55 While individuals might join together to exercise their speech rights, business corporations, at least, were plainly not seen as facilitating such assoeiational or expressive ends. Even “the notion that business corporations could invoke the First Amendment would probably have been quite a novelty,” given that “at the time, the legitimacy of every corporate activity was thought to rest entirely in a concession of the sovereign.” Shelledy, Autonomy, Debate, and Corporate Speech, 18 Hastings Const. L. Q. 541, 578 (1991); cf. Trustees of Dartmouth College v. Woodward, 4 Wheat. 518, 636 (1819) (Marshall, *429C. J.) (“A corporation is an artificial being, invisible, intangible, and existing only in contemplation of law. Being the mere creature of law, it possesses only those properties which the charter of its creation confers upon it”); Eule, Promoting Speaker Diversity: Austin and Metro Broadcasting, 1990 S. Ct. Rev. 105, 129 (“The framers of the First Amendment could scarcely have anticipated its application to the corporation form. That, of course, ought not to be dispositive. What is compelling, however, is an understanding of who was supposed to be the beneficiary of the free speech guaranty — the individual”). In light of these background practices and understandings, it seems to me implausible that the Framers believed “the freedom of speech” would extend equally to all corporate speakers, much less that it would preclude legislatures from taking limited measures to guard against corporate capture of elections.

The Court observes that the Framers drew on diverse intellectual sources, communicated through newspapers, and aimed to provide greater freedom of speech than had existed in England. Ante, at 353. From these (accurate) observations, the Court concludes that “[t]he First Amendment was certainly not understood to condone the suppression of political speech in society’s most salient media.” Ibid. This conclusion is far from certain, given that many historians believe the Framers were focused on prior restraints on publication and did not -understand the First Amendment to “prevent the subsequent punishment of such [publications] as may be deemed contrary to the public welfare.” Near v. Minnesota ex rel. Olson, 283 U. S. 697, 714 (1931) (internal quotation marks omitted). Yet, even if the majority’s conclusion were correct, it would tell us only that the First Amendment was understood to protect political speech in certain media. It would tell us little about whether the Amendment was understood to protect general treasury electioneering expenditures by corporations, and to what extent.

*430As a matter of original expectations, then, it seems absurd to think that the First Amendment prohibits legislatures from taking into account the corporate identity of a sponsor of electoral advocacy. As a matter of original meaning, it likewise seems baseless — unless one evaluates the First Amendment’s “principles,” ante, at 319, 363, or its “purpose,” ante, at 376 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.), at such a high level of generality that the historical understandings of the Amendment cease to be a meaningful constraint on the judicial task. This case sheds a revelatory light on the assumption of some that an impartial judge’s application of an originalist methodology is likely to yield more determinate answers, or to play a more decisive role in the decisional process, than his or her views about sound policy.

Justice Scalia criticizes the foregoing discussion for failing to adduce statements from the founding era showing that corporations were understood to be excluded from the First Amendment’s free speech guarantee. Ante, at 386, 393. Of course, Justice Scalia adduces no statements to suggest the contrary proposition, or even to suggest that the contrary proposition better reflects the kind of right that the drafters and ratiflers of the Free Speech Clause thought they were enshrining. Although Justice Scalia makes a perfectly sensible argument that an individual’s right to speak entails a right to speak with others for a common cause, cf. MCFL, 479 U. S. 238, he does not explain why those two rights must be precisely identical, or why that principle applies to electioneering by corporations that serve no “common cause.” Ante, at 392. Nothing in his account dislodges my basic point that members of the founding generation held a cautious view of corporate power and a narrow view of corporate rights (not that they “despised” corporations, ante, at 386), and that they conceptualized speech in individualistic terms. If no prominent Framer bothered to articulate that corporate speech would have lesser status than individual speech, that may well be because the contrary proposition— *431if not also the very notion of “corporate speech” — was inconceivable.56

Justice Scalia also emphasizes the unqualified nature of the First Amendment text. Ante, at 386, 392-393. Yet he would seemingly read out the Free Press Clause: How else could he claim that my purported views on newspapers must track my views on corporations generally? Ante, at 390.57 Like virtually all modern lawyers, Justice Scalia presumably believes that the First Amendment restricts the Executive, even though its language refers to Congress alone. In any event, the text only leads us back to the questions who or what is guaranteed “the freedom of speech,” and, just as critically, what that freedom consists of and under what circumstances it may be limited. Justice Scalia appears to believe that because corporations are created and utilized by individuals, it follows (as night the day) that their electioneering must be equally protected by the First Amendment *432and equally immunized from expenditure limits. See ante, at 391-392. That conclusion certainly does not follow as a logical matter, and Justice Scalia fails to explain why the original public meaning leads it to follow as a matter of interpretation.

The truth is we cannot be certain how a law such as BCR A § 203 meshes with the original meaning of the First Amendment.58 I have given several reasons why I believe the Constitution would have been understood then, and ought to be understood now, to permit reasonable restrictions on corporate electioneering, and I will give many more reasons in the pages to come. The Court enlists the Framers in its defense without seriously grappling with their understandings of corporations or the free speech right, or with the republican principles that underlay those understandings.

In fairness, our campaign finance jurisprudence has never attended very closely to the views of the Framers, see Randall v. Sorrell, 548 U. S. 230, 280 (2006) (Stevens, J., dissenting), whose political universe differed profoundly from that of today. We have long since held that corporations are covered by the First Amendment, and many legal scholars have long since rejected the concession theory of the corporation. But “historical context is usually relevant,” ibid, (internal quotation marks omitted), and in light of the Court’s effort to cast itself as guardian of ancient values, it pays to remember that nothing in our constitutional history dictates today’s outcome. To the contrary, this history helps illuminate just how extraordinarily dissonant the decision is.

2. Legislative and Judicial Interpretation

A century of more recent history puts to rest any notion that today’s ruling is faithful to our First Amendment tradi*433tion. At the federal level, the express distinction between corporate and individual political spending on elections stretches back to 1907, when Congress passed the Tillman Act, ch. 420, 34 Stat. 864, banning all corporate contributions to candidates. The Senate Report on the legislation observed that “[t]he evils of the use of [corporate] money in connection with political elections are so generally recognized that the committee deems it unnecessary to make any argument in favor of the general purpose of this measure. It is in the interest of good government and calculated to promote purity in the selection of public officials.” S. Rep. No. 3056, 59th Cong., 1st Sess., 2 (1906). President Roosevelt, in his 1905 annual message to Congress, declared:

“ ‘All contributions by corporations to any political committee or for any political purpose should be forbidden by law; directors should not be permitted to use stockholders’ money for such purposes; and, moreover, a prohibition of this kind would be, as far as it went, an effective method of stopping the evils aimed at in corrupt practices acts.’ ” United States v. Automobile Workers, 352 U. S. 567, 572 (1957) (quoting 40 Cong. Rec. 96).

The Court has surveyed the history leading up to the Tillman Act several times, see WRTL, 551 U. S., at 508-510 (Souter, J., dissenting); McConnell, 540 U. S., at 115; Automobile Workers, 352 U. S., at 570-575, and I will refrain from doing so again. It is enough to say that the Act was primarily driven by two pressing concerns: first, the enormous power corporations had come to wield in federal elections, with the accompanying threat of both actual corruption and a public perception of corruption; and second, a respect for the interest of shareholders and members in preventing the use of their money to support candidates they opposed. See ibid.; United States v. CIO, 335 U. S. 106, 113 (1948); Winkler, “Other People’s Money”: Corporations, Agency Costs, and Campaign Finance Law, 92 Geo. L. J. 871 (2004).

*434Over the years, the limitations on corporate political spending have been modified in a number of ways, as Congress responded to changes in the American economy and political practices that threatened to displace the commonweal. Justice Souter recently traced these developments at length.59 WRTL, 551 U. S., at 507-519 (dissenting opinion); see also McConnell, 540 U. S., at 115-133; McConnell, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 188-205. The Taft-Hartley Act of 1947 is of special significance for this case. In that Act passed more than 60 years ago, Congress extended the prohibition on corporate support of candidates to cover not only direct contributions, but independent expenditures as well. Labor Management Relations Act, 1947, § 304, 61 Stat. 159. The bar on contributions “was being so narrowly construed” that corporations were easily able to defeat the purposes of the Act by supporting candidates through other means. WRTL, 551 U. S., at 511 (Souter, J., dissenting) (citing S. Rep. No. 1, 80th Cong., 1st Sess., 38-39 (1947)).

Our colleagues emphasize that in two cases from the middle of the 20th century, several Justices wrote separately to criticize the expenditure restriction as applied to unions, even though the Court declined to pass on its constitutionality. Ante, at 343-344. Two features of these cases are of far greater relevance. First, those Justices were writing separately; which is to say, their position failed to command a majority. Prior to today, this was a fact we found signifi*435cant in evaluating precedents. Second, each case in this line expressed support for the principle that corporate and union political speech financed with PAC funds, collected voluntarily from the organization’s stockholders or members, receives greater protection than speech financed with general treasury funds.60

This principle was carried forward when Congress enacted comprehensive campaign finance reform in the Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (FECA), 86 Stat. 3, which retained the restriction on using general treasury funds for contributions and expenditures, 2 U. S. C. § 441b(a). FECA *436codified the option for corporations and unions to create PACs to finance contributions and expenditures forbidden to the corporation or union itself. § 441b(b).

By the time Congress passed FECA in 1971, the bar on corporate contributions and expenditures had become such an accepted part of federal campaign finance regulation that when a large number of plaintiffs, including several nonprofit corporations, challenged virtually every aspect of FECA in Buckley, 424 U. S. 1, no one even bothered to argue that the bar as such was unconstitutional. Buckley famously (or infamously) distinguished direct contributions from independent expenditures, id., at 58-59, but its silence on corporations only reinforced the understanding that corporate expenditures could be treated differently from individual expenditures. “Since our decision in Buckley, Congress’ power to prohibit corporations and unions from using funds in their treasuries to finance advertisements expressly advocating the election or defeat of candidates in federal elections has been firmly embedded in our law.” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 203.

Thus, it was unremarkable, in a 1982 case holding that Congress could bar nonprofit corporations from soliciting nonmembers for PAC funds, that then-justice Rehnquist wrote for a unanimous Court that Congress’ “careful legislative adjustment of the federal electoral laws, in a cautious advance, step by step, to account for the particular legal and economic attributes of corporations . . . warrants considerable deference,” and “reflects a permissible assessment of the dangers posed by those entities to the electoral process.” NRWC, 459 U. S., at 209 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). “The governmental interest in preventing both actual corruption and the appearance of corruption of elected representatives has long been recognized,” the unanimous Court observed, “and there is no reason why it may not ... be accomplished by treating . . . corporations . . . differently from individuals.” Id., at 210-211.

*437The corporate/individual distinction was not questioned by the Court’s disposition, in 1986, of a challenge to the expenditure restriction as applied to a distinctive type of nonprofit corporation. In MCFL, 479 U. S. 238, we stated again “that ‘the special characteristics of the corporate structure require particularly careful regulation,’ ” id., at 256 (quoting NRWC, 459 U. S., at 209-210), and again we acknowledged that the Government has a legitimate interest in “regulat[ing] the substantial aggregations of wealth amassed by the special advantages which go with the corporate form,” 479 U. S., at 257 (internal quotation marks omitted). Those aggregations can distort the “free trade in ideas” crucial to candidate elections, ibid, (internal quotation marks omitted), at the expense of members or shareholders who may disagree with the object of the expenditures, id., at 260. What the Court held by a 5-to-4 vote was that a limited class of corporations must be allowed to use their general treasury funds for independent expenditures, because Congress’ interests in protecting shareholders and “restriet[ing] ‘the influence of political war chests funneled through the corporate form,’ ” id., at 257 (quoting FEC v. National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S. 480, 501 (1985) (NCPAC), did not apply to corporations that were structurally insulated from those concerns.61

It is worth remembering for present purposes that the four MCFL dissenters, led by Chief Justice Rehnquist, thought the Court was carrying the First Amendment too *438far. They would have recognized congressional authority to bar general treasury electioneering expenditures even by this class of nonprofits; they acknowledged that “the threat from corporate political activity will vary depending on the particular characteristics of a given corporation,” but believed these “distinctions among corporations” were “distinctions in degree,” not “in kind,” and thus “more properly drawn by the Legislature than by the Judiciary.” 479 U. S., at 268 (opinion of Rehnquist, C. J.) (internal quotation marks omitted). Not a single Justice suggested that regulation of corporate political speech could be no more stringent than of speech by an individual.

Four years later, in Austin, 494 U. S. 652, we considered whether corporations falling outside the MCFL exception could be barred from using general treasury funds to make independent expenditures in support of, or in opposition to, candidates. We held they could be. Once again recognizing the importance of “the integrity of the marketplace of political ideas” in candidate elections, MCFL, 479 U. S., at 257, we noted that corporations have “special advantages — such as limited liability, perpetual life, and favorable treatment of the accumulation and distribution of assets,” 494 U. S., at 658-659 — that allow them to spend prodigious general treasury sums on campaign messages that have “little or no correlation” with the beliefs held by actual persons, id., at 660. In light of the corrupting effects such spending might have on the political process, ibid., we permitted the State of Michigan to limit corporate expenditures on candidate elections to corporations’ PACs, which rely on voluntary contributions and thus “reflect actual public support for the political ideas espoused by corporations,” ibid. Notwithstanding our colleagues’ insinuations that Austin deprived the public of general “ideas,” “facts,” and “ ‘knowledge,’ ” ante, at 354, 355, the decision addressed only candidate-focused expenditures and gave the State no license to regulate corporate spending on other matters.

*439In the 20 years since Austin, we have reaffirmed its holding and rationale a number of times, see, e. g., Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 153-156, most importantly in McConnell, 540 U. S. 93, where we upheld the provision challenged here, § 203 of BCRA.62 Congress crafted § 203 in response to a problem created by Buckley. The Buckley Court had construed FECA’s definition of prohibited “expenditures” narrowly to avoid any problems of constitutional vagueness, holding it applicable only to “communications that expressly advocate the election or defeat of a clearly identified candidate,” 424 U. S., at 80, i. e., statements containing so-called “magic words” like “ ‘vote for,’ ‘elect,’ ‘support,’ ‘cast your ballot for,’ ‘Smith for Congress,’ ‘vote against,’ ‘defeat,’ [or] ‘reject,’” id., at 43-44, and n. 52. After Buckley, corporations and unions figured out how to circumvent the limits on express advocacy by using sham “issue ads” that “eschewed the use of magic words” but nonetheless “advocatefd] the election or defeat of clearly identified federal candidates.” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 126. “Corporations and unions spent hundreds *440of millions of dollars of their general funds to pay for these ads.” Id., at 127. Congress passed § 203 to address this circumvention, prohibiting corporations and unions from using general treasury funds for electioneering communications that “refe[r] to a clearly identified candidate,” whether or not those communications use the magic words. 2 U. S. C. § 434(f)(3)(A)(i)(I).

When we asked in McConnell “whether a compelling governmental interest justifie[d]” §203, we found the question “easily answered”: “We have repeatedly sustained legislation aimed at 'the corrosive and distorting effects of immense aggregations of wealth that are accumulated with the help of the corporate form and that have little or no correlation to the public’s support for the corporation’s political ideas.’” 540 U. S., at 205 (quoting Austin, 494 U. S., at 660). These precedents “represent respect for the legislative judgment that the special characteristics of the corporate structure require particularly careful regulation.” 540 U. S., at 205 (internal quotation marks omitted). “Moreover, recent cases have recognized that certain restrictions on corporate electoral involvement permissibly hedge against' “circumvention of [valid] contribution limits.””’ Ibid, (quoting Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 155, in turn quoting FEC v. Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm., 533 U. S. 431, 456, and n. 18 (2001) (Colorado II); alteration in original). BCR A, we found, is faithful to the compelling governmental interests in “ ‘preserving the integrity of the electoral process, preventing corruption,... sustaining the active, alert responsibility of the individual citizen in a democracy for the wise conduct of the government,’ ” and maintaining “ 'the individual citizen’s confidence in government.’” 540 U. S., at 206-207, n. 88 (quoting Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 788-789; some internal quotation marks and brackets omitted). What made the answer even easier than it might have been otherwise was the option to form PACs, which give corporations, at the least, *441“a constitutionally sufficient opportunity to engage in” independent expenditures. 540 U. S., at 203.

3. Buckley and Bellotti

Against this extensive background of congressional regulation of corporate campaign spending, and our repeated affirmation of this regulation as constitutionally sound, the majority dismisses Austin as “a significant departure from ancient First Amendment principles,” ante, at 319 (internal quotation marks omitted). How does the majority attempt to justify this claim? Selected passages from two cases, Buckley, 424 U. S. 1, and Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, do all of the work. In the Court’s view, Buckley and Bellotti decisively rejected the possibility of distinguishing corporations from natural persons in the 1970’s; it just so happens that in every single case in which the Court has reviewed campaign finance legislation in the decades since, the majority failed to grasp this truth. The Federal Congress and dozens of state legislatures, we now know, have been similarly deluded.

The majority emphasizes Buckley’s statement that “ ‘[t]he concept that government may restrict the speech of some elements of our society in order to enhance the relative voice of others is wholly foreign to the First Amendment.’” Ante, at 349-350 (quoting 424 U. S., at 48-49); ante, at 379 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.). But this elegant phrase cannot bear the weight that our colleagues have placed on it. For one thing, the Constitution does, in fact, permit numerous “restrictions on the speech of some in order to prevent a few from drowning out the many”: for example, restrictions on ballot access and on legislators’ floor time. Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377, 402 (2000) (Breyer, J., concurring). For another, the Buckley Court used this line in evaluating “the ancillary governmental interest in equalizing the relative ability of individuals and groups to influence the outcome of elections.” 424 U. S., at 48. It is not apparent why this is relevant to the case *442before us. The majority suggests that Austin rests on the foreign concept of speech equalization, ante, at 350; ante, at 379-381 (opinion of ROBERTS, C. J.), but we made it clear in Austin (as in several cases before and since) that a restriction on the way corporations spend their money is no mere exercise in disfavoring the voice of some elements of our society in preference to others. Indeed, we expressly ruled that the compelling interest supporting Michigan’s statute was not one of “ ‘equalizing] the relative influence of speakers on elections,’ ” Austin, 494 U. S., at 660 (quoting id., at 705 (Kennedy, J., dissenting)), but rather the need to confront the distinctive corrupting potential of corporate electoral advocacy financed by general treasury dollars, id., at 659-660.

For that matter, it should go without saying that when we made this statement in Buckley, we could not have been casting doubt on the restriction on corporate expenditures in candidate elections, which had not been challenged as “foreign to the First Amendment,” ante, at 350 (quoting Buckley, 424 U. S., at 49), or for any other reason. Buckley’s independent expenditure analysis was focused on a very different statutory provision, 18 U. S. C. § 608(e)(1) (1970 ed., Supp. V). It is implausible to think, as the majority suggests, ante, at 346, that Buckley covertly invalidated FECA’s separate corporate and union campaign expenditure restriction, §610 (now codified at 2 U. S. C. §441b), even though that restriction had been on the books for decades before Buckley and would remain on the books, undisturbed, for decades after.

The case on which the majority places even greater weight than Buckley, however, is Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, claiming it “could not have been clearer” that Bellotti’s holding forbade distinctions between corporate and individual expenditures like the one at issue here, ante, at 346. The Court’s reliance is odd. The only thing about Bellotti that could not be clearer is that it declined to adopt the majority’s position. Bellotti ruled, in an explicit limitation on the scope of its holding, that “our consideration of a corporation’s right to *443speak on issues of general public interest implies no comparable right in the quite different context of participation in a political campaign for election to public office.” 435 U. S., at 788, n. 26; see also id., at 787-788 (acknowledging that the interests in preserving public confidence in Government and protecting dissenting shareholders may be “weighty ... in the context of partisan candidate elections”). Bellotti, in other words, did not touch the question presented in Austin and McConnell, and the opinion squarely disavowed the proposition for which the majority cites it.

The majority attempts to explain away the distinction Bellotti drew — between general corporate speech and campaign speech intended to promote or prevent the election of specific candidates for office — as inconsistent with the rest of the opinion and with Buckley. Ante, at 347, 357-360. Yet the basis for this distinction is perfectly coherent: The anticorruption interests that animate regulations of corporate participation in candidate elections, the “importance” of which “has never been doubted,” 435 U. S., at 788, n. 26, do not apply equally to regulations of corporate participation in referenda. A referendum cannot owe a political debt to a corporation, seek to curry favor with a corporation, or fear the corporation’s retaliation. Cf. Austin, 494 U. S., at 678 (Stevens, J., concurring); Citizens Against Rent Control/Coalition for Fair Housing v. Berkeley, 454 U. S. 290, 299 (1981). The majority likewise overlooks the fact that, over the past 30 years, our cases have repeatedly recognized the candidate/issue distinction. See, e. g., Austin, 494 U. S., at 659; NCPAC, 470 U. S., at 495-496; FCC v. League of Women Voters of Cal., 468 U. S. 364, 371, n. 9 (1984); NRWC, 459 U. S., at 210, n. 7. The Court’s critique of Bellotti’s footnote 26 puts it in the strange position of trying to elevate Bellotti to canonical status, while simultaneously disparaging a critical piece of its analysis as unsupported and irreconcilable with Buckley. Bellotti, apparently, is both the font of all wisdom and internally incoherent.

*444The Bellotti Court confronted a dramatically different factual situation from the one that confronts us in this case: a state statute that barred business corporations’ expenditures on some referenda but not others. Specifically, the statute barred a business corporation “from making contributions or expenditures ‘for the purpose of . . . influencing or affecting the vote on any question submitted to the voters, other than one materially affecting any of the property, business or assets of the corporation,’ ” 435 U. S., at 768 (quoting Mass. Gen. Laws Ann., ch. 55, § 8 (West Supp. 1977); alteration in original), and it went so far as to provide that referenda related to income taxation would not “ ‘be deemed materially to affect the property, business or assets of the corporation,’ ” 435 U. S., at 768. As might be guessed, the legislature had enacted this statute in order to limit corporate speech on a proposed state constitutional amendment to authorize a graduated income tax. The statute was a transparent attempt to prevent corporations from spending money to defeat this amendment, which was favored by a majority of legislators but had been repeatedly rejected by the voters. See id., at 769-770, and n. 3. We said that “where, as here, the legislature’s suppression of speech suggests an attempt to give one side of a debatable public question an advantage in expressing its views to the people, the First Amendment is plainly offended.” Id., at 785-786 (footnote omitted).

Bellotti thus involved a viewpoint-discriminatory statute, created to effect a particular policy outcome. Even Justice Rehnquist, in dissent, had to acknowledge that “a very persuasive argument could be made that the [Massachusetts Legislature], desiring to impose a personal income tax but more than once defeated in that desire by the combination of the Commonwealth’s referendum provision and corporate expenditures in opposition to such a tax, simply decided to muzzle corporations on this sort of issue so that it could succeed in its desire.” Id., at 827, n. 6. To make matters *445worse, the law at issue did not make any allowance for corporations to spend money through PACs. Id., at 768, n. 2 (opinion of the Court). This really was a complete ban on a specific, preidentified subject. See MCFL, 479 U. S., at 259, n. 12 (stating that 2 U. S. C. §441b’s expenditure restriction “is of course distinguishable from the complete foreclosure of any opportunity for political speech that we invalidated in the state referendum context in . . . Bellotti” (emphasis added)).

The majority grasps a quotational straw from Bellotti, that speech does not fall entirely outside the protection of the First Amendment merely because it comes from a corporation. Ante, at 346-347. Of course not, but no one suggests the contrary, and neither Austin nor McConnell held otherwise. They held that even though the expenditures at issue were subject to First Amendment scrutiny, the restrictions on those expenditures were justified by a compelling state interest. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 205; Austin, 494 U. S., at 658, 660. We acknowledged in Bellotti that numerous “interests of the highest importance” can justify campaign finance regulation. 435 U. S., at 788-789. But we found no evidence that these interests were served by the Massachusetts law. Id., at 789. We left open the possibility that our decision might have been different if there had been “record or legislative findings that corporate advocacy threatened imminently to undermine democratic processes, thereby denigrating rather than serving First Amendment interests.” Ibid.

Austin and McConnell, then, sit perfectly well with Bellotti. Indeed, all six Members of the Austin majority had been on the Court at the time of Bellotti, and none so much as hinted in Austin that they saw any tension between the decisions. The difference between the cases is not that Austin and McConnell rejected First Amendment protection for corporations whereas Bellotti accepted it. The difference is that the statute at issue in Bellotti smacked of viewpoint *446discrimination, targeted one class of corporations, and provided no PAC option; and the State has a greater interest in regulating independent corporate expenditures on candidate elections than on referenda, because in a functioning democracy the public must have faith that its representatives owe their positions to the people, not to the corporations with the deepest pockets.

* * *

In sum, over the course of the past century Congress has demonstrated a recurrent need to regulate corporate participation in candidate elections to “ ‘[p]reserv[e] the integrity of the electoral process, preven[t] corruption, . . . sustai[n] the active, alert responsibility of the individual citizen,’” protect the expressive interests of shareholders, and “ ‘[p]reserv[e] . . . the individual citizen’s confidence in government.’” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 206-207, n. 88 (quoting Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 788-789; first alteration in original). These understandings provided the combined impetus behind the Tillman Act in 1907, see Automobile Workers, 352 U. S., at 570-575, the Taft-Hartley Act in 1947, see WRTL, 551 U. S., at 511 (Souter, J., dissenting), FECA in 1971, see NRWC, 459 U. S., at 209-210, and BCRA in 2002, see McConnell, 540 U. S., at 126-132. Continuously for over 100 years, this line of “[c]ampaign finance reform has been a series of reactions to documented threats to electoral integrity obvious to any voter, posed by large sums of money from corporate or union treasuries.” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 522 (Souter, J., dissenting). Time and again, we have recognized these realities in approving measures that Congress and the States have taken. None of the cases the majority cites is to the contrary. The only thing new about Austin was the dissent, with its stunning failure to appreciate the legitimacy of interests recognized in the name of democratic integrity since the days of the Progressives.

*447IV

Having explained why this is not an appropriate case in which to revisit Austin and McConnell and why these decisions sit perfectly well with “First Amendment principles,” ante, at 319, 363, I come at last to the interests that are at stake. The majority recognizes that Austin and McConnell may be defended on anticorruption, antidistortion, and shareholder protection, rationales. Ante, at 348-362. It badly errs both in explaining the nature of these rationales, which overlap and complement each other, and in applying them to the ease at hand.

The Anticorruption Interest

Undergirding the majority’s approach to the merits is the claim that the only “sufficiently important governmental interest in preventing corruption or the appearance of corruption” is one that is “limited to quid pro quo corruption.” Ante, at 359. This is the same “crabbed view of corruption” that was espoused by Justice Kennedy in McConnell and squarely rejected by the Court in that case. 540 U. S., at 152. While it is true that we have not always spoken about corruption in a clear or consistent voice, the approach taken by the majority cannot be right, in my judgment. It disregards our constitutional history and the fundamental demands of a democratic society.

On numerous occasions we have recognized Congress’ legitimate interest in preventing the money that is spent on elections from exerting an “‘undue influence on an officeholder’s judgment’ ” and from creating “ ‘the appearance of such influence,’” beyond the sphere of quid pro quo relationships. Id., at 150; see also, e.g., id., at 143-144, 152-154; Colorado II, 533 U. S., at 441; Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 389. Corruption can take many forms. Bribery may be the paradigm case. But the difference between selling a vote and selling access is a matter of degree, not kind. And sell*448ing access is not qualitatively different from giving special preference to those who spent money on one's behalf. Corruption operates along a spectrum, and the majority’s apparent belief that quid pro quo arrangements can be neatly demarcated from other improper influences does not accord with the theory or reality of politics. It certainly does not accord with the record Congress developed in passing BCRA, a record that stands as a remarkable testament to the energy and ingenuity with which corporations, unions, lobbyists, and politicians may go about scratching each other’s backs — and which amply supported Congress’ determination to target a limited set of especially destructive practices.

The District Court that adjudicated the initial challenge to BCRA pored over this record. In a careful analysis, Judge Kollar-Kotelly made numerous findings about the corrupting consequences of corporate and union independent expenditures in the years preceding BCRA’s passage. See McConnell, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 555-560, 622-625; see also id., at 804-805, 813, n. 143 (Leon, J.) (indicating agreement). As summarized in her own words:

“The factual findings of the Court illustrate that corporations and labor unions routinely notify Members of Congress as soon as they air electioneering communications relevant to the Members’ elections. The record also indicates that Members express appreciation to organizations for the airing of these election-related advertisements. Indeed, Members of Congress are particularly grateful when negative issue advertisements are run by these organizations, leaving the candidates free to run positive advertisements and be seen as 'above the fray.’ Political consultants testify that campaigns are quite aware of who is running advertisements on the candidate’s behalf, when they are being run, and where they are being run. Likewise, a prominent lob*449byist testifies that these organizations use issue advocacy as a means to influence various Members of Congress.
“The Findings also demonstrate that Members of Congress seek to have corporations and unions run these advertisements on their behalf. The Findings show that Members suggest that corporations or individuals make donations to interest groups with the understanding that the money contributed to these groups will assist the Member in a campaign. After the election, these organizations often seek credit for their support----Finally, a large majority of Americans (80%) are of the view that corporations and other organizations that engage in electioneering communications, which benefit specific elected officials, receive special consideration from those officials when matters arise that affect these corporations and organizations.” Id., at 623-624 (citations and footnote omitted).

Many of the relationships of dependency found by Judge Kollar-Kotelly seemed to have a quid pro quo basis, but other arrangements were more subtle. Her analysis shows the great difficulty in delimiting the precise scope of the quid pro quo category, as well as the adverse consequences that all such arrangements may have. There are threats of corruption that are far more destructive to a democratic society than the odd bribe. Yet the majority’s understanding of corruption would leave lawmakers impotent to address all but the most discrete abuses.

Our “undue influence” cases have allowed the American people to cast a wider net through legislative experiments designed to ensure, to some minimal extent, “that officeholders will decide issues ... on the merits or the desires of their constituencies,” and not “according to the wishes of those who have made large financial contributions” — or expenditures — “valued by the officeholder.” McConnell, 540 *450U. S., at 153.63 When private interests are seen to exert outsized control over officeholders solely on account of the money spent on (or withheld from) their campaigns, the result can depart so thoroughly “from what is pure or correct” in the conduct of Government, Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 512 (1966) (defining “corruption”), that it amounts to a “subversion ... of the . . . electoral process,” Automobile Workers, 352 U. S., at 575. At stake in the legislative efforts to address this threat is therefore not only the legitimacy and quality of Government but also the public’s faith therein, not only “the capacity of this democracy to represent its constituents [but also] the confidence of its citizens in their capacity to govern themselves,” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 507 (Souter, J., dissenting). “Take away Congress’ authority to regulate the appearance of undue influence and ‘the cynical assumption that large donors call the tune could jeopardize the willingness of voters to take part in democratic governance.’ ” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 144 (quoting Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 390).64

*451The cluster of interrelated interests threatened by such undue influence and its appearance has been well captured under the rubric of “democratic integrity.” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 522 (Souter, J., dissenting). This value has underlined a century of state and federal efforts to regulate the role of corporations in the electoral process.65

Unlike the majority’s myopic focus on quid pro quo scenarios and the free-floating “First Amendment principles” on which it rests so much weight, ante, at 319, 363, this broader understanding of corruption has deep roots in the Nation’s history. “During debates on the earliest [campaign finance] reform acts, the terms ‘corruption’ and ‘undue influence’ were used nearly interchangeably.” Pasquale, Reclaiming Egalitarianism in the Political Theory of Campaign Finance Reform, 2008 U. Ill. L. Rev. 599, 601. Long before Buckley, we appreciated that “[t]o say that Congress is without power to pass appropriate legislation to safeguard ... an election from the improper use of money to influence the result is to deny to the nation in a vital particular the power of self protection.” Burroughs v. United States, 290 U. S. 534, 545 (1934). And whereas we have no evidence to support the notion that the Framers would have wanted corporations to have the same rights as natural persons in the electoral context, we have ample evidence to suggest that they would *452have been appalled by the evidence of corruption that Congress unearthed in developing BCRA and that the Court today discounts to irrelevance. It is fair to say that “[t]he Framers were obsessed with corruption,” Teachout 348, which they understood to encompass the dependency of public officeholders on private interests, see id., at 373-374; see also Randall, 548 U. S., at 280 (Stevens, J., dissenting). They discussed corruption “more often in the Constitutional Convention than factions, violence, or instability.” Teachout 352. When they brought our constitutional order into being, the Framers had their minds trained on a threat to republican self-government that this Court has lost sight of.

Quid Pro Quo Corruption

There is no need to take my side in the debate over the scope of the anticorruption interest to see that the Court’s merits holding is wrong. Even under the majority’s “crabbed view of corruption,” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 152, the Government should not lose this case.

“The importance of the governmental interest in preventing [corruption through the creation of political debts] has never been doubted.” Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 788, n. 26. Even in the eases that have construed the anticorruption interest most narrowly, we have never suggested that such quid pro quo debts must take the form of outright vote buying or bribes, which have long been distinct crimes. Rather, they encompass the myriad ways in which outside parties may induce an officeholder to confer a legislative benefit in direct response to, or anticipation of, some outlay of money the parties have made or will make on behalf of the officeholder. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 143 (“We have not limited [the anticorruption] interest to the elimination of cash-for-votes exchanges. In Buckley, we expressly rejected the argument that antibribery laws provided a less restrictive alternative to FECA’s contribution limits, noting that such laws ‘deal[t] with only the most blatant and specific attempts *453of those with money to influence governmental action’” (quoting 424 U. S., at 28; alteration in original)).. It has likewise never been doubted that “[o]f almost equal concern as the danger of actual quid pro quo arrangements is the impact of the appearance of corruption.” Id., at 27. Congress may “legitimately conclude that the avoidance of the appearance of improper influence is also critical... if confidence in the system of representative Government is not to be eroded to a disastrous extent.” Ibid, (internal quotation marks omitted; alteration in original). A democracy cannot function effectively when its constituent members believe laws are being bought and sold.

In theory, our colleagues accept this much. As applied to BCRA §203, however, they conclude “[t]he anticorruption interest is not sufficient to displace the speech here in question.” Ante, at 357.

Although the Court suggests that Buckley compels its conclusion, ante, at 356-360, Buckley cannot sustain this reading. It is true that, in evaluating FECA's ceiling on independent expenditures by all persons, the Buckley Court found the governmental interest in preventing corruption “inadequate.” 424 U. S., at 45. But Buckley did not evaluate corporate expenditures specifically, nor did it rule out the possibility that a future Court might find otherwise. The opinion reasoned that an expenditure limitation covering only express advocacy (i e., magic words) would likely be ineffectual, ibid., a problem that Congress tackled in BCRA, and it concluded that “the independent advocacy restricted by [FECA § 608(e)(1)] does not presently appear to pose dangers of real or apparent corruption comparable to those identified with large campaign contributions,” id., at 46 (emphasis added). Buckley expressly contemplated that an anticorruption rationale might justify restrictions on independent expenditures at a later date, “because it may be that, in some circumstances, ‘large independent expenditures pose the same dangers of actual or apparent quid pro quo *454arrangements as do large contributions.’ ” WRTL, 551 U. S., at 478 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.) (quoting Buckley, 424 U. S., at 45). Certainly Buckley did not foreclose this possibility with respect to electioneering communications made with corporate general treasury funds, an issue the Court had no occasion to consider.

The Austin Court did not rest its holding on quid pro quo corruption, as it found the broader corruption implicated by the antidistortion and shareholder protection rationales a sufficient basis for Michigan’s restriction on corporate electioneering. 494 U. S., at 658-660. Concurring in that opinion, I took the position that “the danger of either the fact, or the appearance, of quid pro quo relationships [also] provides an adequate justification for state regulation” of these independent expenditures. Id., at 678. I did not see this position as inconsistent with Buckley’s analysis of individual expenditures. Corporations, as a class, tend to be more attuned to the complexities of the legislative process and more directly affected by tax and appropriations measures that receive little public scrutiny; they also have vastly more money with which to try to buy access and votes. See Supp. Brief for Appellee 17 (stating that the Fortune 100 companies earned revenues of $13.1 trillion during the last election cycle). Business corporations must engage the political process in instrumental terms if they are to maximize shareholder value. The unparalleled resources, professional lobbyists, and single-minded focus they bring to this effort, I believed, make quid pro quo corruption and its appearance inherently more likely when they (or their conduits or trade groups) spend unrestricted sums on elections.

It is with regret rather than satisfaction that I can now say that time has borne out my concerns. The legislative and judicial proceedings relating to BCRA generated a substantial body of evidence suggesting that, as corporations grew more and more adept at crafting “issue ads” to help *455or harm a particular candidate, these nominally independent expenditures began to corrupt the political process in a very direct sense. The sponsors of these ads were routinely granted special access after the campaign was over; “candidates and officials knew who their friends were,” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 129. Many corporate independent expenditures, it seemed, had become essentially interchangeable with direct contributions in their capacity to generate quid pro quo arrangements. In an age in which money and television ads are the coin of the campaign realm, it is hardly surprising that corporations deployed these ads to curry favor with, and to gain influence over, public officials.

The majority appears to think it decisive that the BCR A record does not contain “direct examples of votes being exchanged for... expenditures.” Ante, at 360 (internal quotation marks omitted). It would have been quite remarkable if Congress had created a record detailing such behavior by its own Members. Proving that a specific vote was exchanged for a specific expenditure has always been next to impossible: Elected officials have diverse motivations, and no one will acknowledge that he sold a vote. Yet, even if “[i]ngratiation and access . . . are not corruption” themselves, ibid., they are necessary prerequisites to it; they can create both the opportunity for, and the appearance of, quid pro quo arrangements. The influx of unlimited corporate money into the electoral realm also creates new opportunities for the mirror image of quid pro quo deals: threats, both explicit and implicit. Starting today, corporations with large war chests to deploy on electioneering may find democratically elected bodies becoming much more attuned to their interests. The majority both misreads the facts and draws the wrong conclusions when it suggests that the BCRA record provides “only scant evidence that independent expenditures . .. ingratiate,” and that, “in any event,” none of it matters. Ibid.

*456In her analysis of the record, Judge Kollar-Kotelly documented the pervasiveness of this ingratiation and explained its significance under the majority’s own touchstone for defining the scope of the antieorruption rationale, Buckley. See McConnell, 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 555-560, 622-625. Witnesses explained how political parties and candidates used corporate independent expenditures to circumvent FECA’s “hard-money” limitations. See, e. g., id., at 478-479. One former Senator candidly admitted to the District Court that “‘[candidates whose campaigns benefit from [phony “issue ads”] greatly appreciate the help of these groups. In fact, Members will also be favorably disposed to those who finance these groups when they later seek access to discuss pending legislation.’” Id., at 556 (quoting declaration of Sen. Dale Bumpers). One prominent lobbyist went so far as to state, in uncontroverted testimony, that “‘unregulated expenditures — whether soft money donations to the parties or issue ad campaigns — can sometimes generate far more influence than direct campaign contributions.’ ” Ibid, (quoting declaration of Wright Andrews; emphasis added). In sum, Judge Kollar-Kotelly found, “[t]he record powerfully demonstrates that electioneering communications paid for with the general treasury funds of labor unions and corporations endears those entities to elected officials in a way that could be perceived by the public as corrupting.” Id., at 622-623. She concluded that the Government’s interest in preventing the appearance of corruption, as that concept was defined in Buckley, was itself sufficient to uphold BCRA §203. 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 622-625. Judge Leon agreed. See id., at 804-805 (dissenting only with respect to the Wellstone Amendment’s coverage of MCFL corporations).

When the McConnell Court affirmed the judgment of the District Court regarding § 203, we did not rest our holding on a narrow notion of quid pro quo corruption. Instead we relied on the governmental interest in combating the unique forms of corruption threatened by corporations, as recog*457nized in Austin’s antidistortion and shareholder protection rationales, 540 U. S., at 205 (citing Austin, 494 U. S., at 660), as well as the interest in preventing circumvention of contribution limits, 540 U. S., at 128-129, 205, 206, n. 88. Had we felt constrained by the view of today’s Court that quid pro quo corruption and its appearance are the only interests that count in this field, ante, at 348-362, we of course would have looked closely at that issue. And as the analysis by Judge Kollar-Kotelly reflects, it is a very real possibility that we would have found one or both of those interests satisfied and §203 appropriately tailored to them.

The majority’s rejection of the Buckley anticorruption rationale on the ground that independent corporate expenditures “do not give rise to [quid pro quo] corruption or the appearance of corruption,” ante, at 357, is thus unfair as well as unreasonable. Congress and outside experts have generated significant evidence corroborating this rationale, and the only reason we do not have any of the relevant materials before us is that the Government had no reason to develop a record at trial for a facial challenge the plaintiff had abandoned. The Court cannot both sua sponte choose to relitigate McConnell on appeal and then complain that the Government has failed to substantiate its case. If our colleagues were really serious about the interest in preventing quid pro quo corruption, they would remand to the District Court with instructions to commence evidentiary proceedings.66

*458The insight that even technically independent expenditures can be corrupting in much the same way as direct contributions is bolstered by our decision last year in Caperton v. A. T. Massey Coal Co., 556 U. S. 868 (2009). In that case, Don Blankenship, the chief executive officer of a corporation with a lawsuit pending before the West Virginia high court, spent large sums on behalf of a particular candidate, Brent Benjamin, running for a seat on that court. “In addition to contributing the $1,000 statutory maximum to Benjamin’s campaign committee, Blankenship donated almost $2.5 million to ‘And For The Sake Of The Kids,’ ” a § 527 corporation that ran ads targeting Benjamin’s opponent. Id., at 873. “This was not all. Blankenship spent, in addition, just over $500,000 on independent expenditures . . . ‘ “to support. . . Brent Benjamin.””’ Ibid, (second alteration in original). Applying its common sense, this Court accepted petitioners’ argument that Blankenship’s “pivotal role in getting Justice Benjamin elected created a constitutionally intolerable probability of actual bias” when Benjamin later declined to recuse himself from the appeal by Blankenship’s corporation. Id., at 882. “Though n[o] . . . bribe or criminal influence” was involved, we recognized that “Justice Benjamin would nevertheless feel a debt of gratitude to Blankenship for his extraordinary efforts to get him elected.” Ibid. “The difficulties of inquiring into actual bias,” we further noted, “simply underscore the need for objective rules,” id., at 883 — rules which will perforce turn on the appearance of bias rather than its actual existence.

In Caperton, then, we accepted the premise that, at least in some circumstances, independent expenditures on candidate elections will raise an intolerable specter of quid pro quo corruption. Indeed, this premise struck the Court as so intuitive that it repeatedly referred to Blankenship’s spending on behalf of Benjamin — spending that consisted of *45999.97% independent expenditures ($3 million) and 0.03% direct contributions ($1,000) — as a “contribution.” See, e.g., id., at 872 (“The basis for the [recusal] motion was that the justice had received campaign contributions in an extraordinary amount from” Blankenship); id., at 873 (referencing “Blankenship’s $3 million in contributions”); id., at 884 (“Blankenship contributed some $3 million to unseat the incumbent and replace him with Benjamin”); id., at 885 (“Blankenship’s campaign contributions . . . had a significant and disproportionate influence on the electoral outcome”). The reason the Court so thoroughly conflated expenditures and contributions, one assumes, is that it realized that some expenditures may be functionally equivalent to contributions in the way they influence the outcome of a race, the way they are interpreted by the candidates and the public, and the way they taint the decisions that the officeholder thereafter takes.

Caperton is illuminating in several additional respects. It underscores the old insight that, on account of the extreme difficulty of proving corruption, “prophylactic measures, reaching some [campaign spending] not corrupt in purpose or effect, [may be] nonetheless required to guard against corruption.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 30; see also Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 392, n. 5. It underscores that “certain restrictions on corporate electoral involvement” may likewise be needed to “hedge against circumvention of valid contribution limits.” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 205 (internal quotation marks and brackets omitted); see also Colorado II, 533 U. S., at 456 (“[A]ll Members of the Court agree that circumvention is a valid theory of corruption”). It -underscores that for-profit corporations associated with electioneering communications will often prefer to use nonprofit conduits with “misleading names,” such as And For The Sake Of The Kids, “to conceal their identity” as the sponsor of those communications, thereby frustrating the utility of dis*460closure laws. McConnell, 540 U. S., at 128; see also id., at 196-197.

And it underscores that the consequences of today’s holding will not be limited to the legislative or executive context. The majority of the States select their judges through popular elections. At a time when concerns about the conduct of judicial elections have reached a fever pitch, see, e. g., O’Connor, Justice for Sale, Wall St. Journal, Nov. 15, 2007, p. A25; Brief for Justice at Stake et al. as Amici Curiae 2, the Court today unleashes the floodgates of corporate and union general treasury spending in these races. Perhaps “Caperton motions” will catch some of the worst abuses. This will be small comfort to those States that, after today, may no longer have the ability to place modest limits on corporate electioneering even if they believe such limits to be critical to maintaining the integrity of their judicial systems.

Deference and Incumbent Self-Protection

Rather than show any deference to a coordinate branch of Government, the majority thus rejects the anticorruption rationale without serious analysis.67 Today’s opinion provides no clear rationale for’being so dismissive of Congress, but the prior individual opinions on which it relies have offered one: the incentives of the legislators who passed BCRA. Section 203, our colleagues have suggested, may be little more than “an incumbency protection plan,” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 306 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part); see also id., at 249-250, 260-263 (Scalia, J., concurring in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part), a disreputable attempt at legislative self-dealing rather than an earnest effort to facilitate First Amendment values and safeguard the legitimacy *461of our political system. This possibility, the Court apparently believes, licenses it to run roughshod over Congress’ handiwork.

In my view, we should instead start by acknowledging that “Congress surely has both wisdom and experience in these matters that is far superior to ours.” Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm. v. FEC, 518 U. S. 604, 650 (1996) (Stevens, J., dissenting). Many of our campaign finance precedents explicitly and forcefully affirm the propriety of such presumptive deference. See, e. g., McConnell, 540 U. S., at 158; Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 155-156; NRWC, 459 U. S., at 209-210. Moreover, “[j]udicial deference is particularly warranted where, as here, we deal with a congressional judgment that has remained essentially unchanged throughout a century of careful legislative adjustment.” Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 162, n. 9 (internal quotation marks omitted); cf. Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 391 (“The quantum of empirical evidence needed to satisfy heightened judicial scrutiny of legislative judgments will vary up or down with the novelty and plausibility of the justification raised”). In America, incumbent legislators pass the laws that govern campaign finance, just like all other laws. To apply a level of scrutiny that effectively bars them from regulating electioneering whenever there is the faintest whiff of self-interest, is to deprive them of the ability to regulate electioneering.

This is not to say that deference would be appropriate if there were a solid basis for believing that a legislative action was motivated by the desire to protect incumbents or that it will degrade the competitiveness of the electoral process.68 *462See League of United Latin American Citizens v. Perry, 548 U. S. 399, 447 (2006) (Stevens, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part); Vieth v. Jubelirer, 541 U. S. 267, 317 (2004) (Stevens, J., dissenting). Along with our duty to balance competing constitutional concerns, we have a vital role to play in ensuring that elections remain at least minimally open, fair, and competitive. But it is the height of recklessness to dismiss Congress’ years of bipartisan deliberation and its reasoned judgment on this basis, without first confirming that the statute in question was intended to be, or will function as, a restraint on electoral competition. “Absent record evidence of invidious discrimination against challengers as a class, a court should generally be hesitant to invalidate legislation which on its face imposes evenhanded restrictions.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 31.

We have no record evidence from which to conclude that BCRA § 203, or any of the dozens of state laws that the Court today calls into question, reflects or fosters such invidious discrimination. Our colleagues have opined that “ ‘any restriction upon a type of campaign speech that is equally available to challengers and incumbents tends to favor incumbents.’” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 249 (opinion of SCALIA, J.). This kind of airy speculation could easily be turned on its head. The electioneering prohibited by § 203 might well tend to favor incumbents, because incumbents have pre-existing relationships with corporations and unions, and groups that wish to procure legislative benefits may tend to support the candidate who, as a sitting officeholder, is already in a position to dispense benefits and is statistically likely to retain office. If a corporation’s goal is to induce officeholders to do its bidding, the corporation would do well to cultivate stable, long-term relationships of dependency.

So we do not have a solid theoretical basis for condemning §203 as a front for incumbent self-protection, and it seems equally if not more plausible that restrictions on corporate electioneering will be self-denying. Nor do we have a good *463empirical case for skepticism, as the Court’s failure to cite any empirical research attests. Nor does the legislative history give reason for concern. Congress devoted years of careful study to the issues underlying BCRA; “[f]ew legislative proposals in recent years have received as much sustained public commentary or news coverage”; “[political scientists and academic experts . . . with no self-interest in incumbent protectio[n] were central figures in pressing the case for BCRA”; and the legislation commanded bipartisan support from the outset. Pildes, The Supreme Court 2003 Term Foreword: The Constitutionalization of Democratic Politics, 118 Harv. L. Rev. 28, 137 (2004). Finally, it is important to remember just how incumbent-friendly congressional races were prior to BCRA’s passage. As the Solicitor General aptly remarked at the time, “the evidence supports overwhelmingly that incumbents were able to get re-elected under the old system just fine.” Tr. of Oral Arg. in McConnell v. FEC, O. T. 2003, No. 02-1674, p. 61. “It would be hard to develop a scheme that could be better for incumbents.” Id., at 63.

In this case, then, “there is no convincing evidence that th[e] important interests favoring expenditure limits are fronts for incumbency protection.” Randall, 548 U. S., at 279 (Stevens, J., dissenting). “In the meantime, a legislative judgment that ‘enough is enough’ should command the greatest possible deference from judges interpreting a constitutional provision that, at best, has an indirect relationship to activity that affects the quantity ... of repetitive speech in the marketplace of ideas.” Id., at 279-280. The majority cavalierly ignores Congress’ factual findings and its constitutional judgment: It acknowledges the validity of the interest in preventing corruption, but it effectively discounts the value of that interest to zero. This is quite different from conscientious policing for impermissibly anticompetitive motive or effect in a sensitive First Amendment context. *464It is the denial of Congress’ authority to regulate corporate spending on elections.

Austin and Corporate Expenditures

Just as the majority gives short shrift to the general societal interests at stake in campaign finance regulation, it also overlooks the distinctive considerations raised by the regulation of corporate expenditures. The majority fails to appreciate that Austin’s antidistortion rationale is itself an anticorruption rationale, see 494 U. S., at 660 (describing “a different type of corruption”), tied to the special concerns raised by corporations. Understood properly, “antidistortion” is simply a variant on the classic governmental interest in protecting against improper influences on officeholders that debilitate the democratic process. It is manifestly not just an “ ‘equalizing’ ” ideal in disguise. Ante, at 350 (quoting Buckley, 424 U. S., at 48).69

*4651. Antidistortion

The fact that corporations are different from human beings might seem to need no elaboration, except that the majority opinion almost completely elides it. Austin set forth some of the basic differences. Unlike natural persons, corporations have “limited liability” for their owners and managers, “perpetual life,” separation of ownership and control, “and favorable treatment of the accumulation and distribution of assets ... that enhance their ability to attract capital and to deploy their resources in ways that maximize the return on their shareholders’ investments.” 494 U. S., at 658-659. Unlike voters in U. S. elections, corporations may be foreign controlled.70 Unlike other interest groups, business corporations have been “effectively delegated responsibility for ensuring society’s economic welfare”;71 they inescapably structure the life of every citizen. “ ‘[T]he resources in the treasury of a business corporation,’ ” furthermore, “ ‘are not an indication of popular support for the corporation’s political ideas.’” Id., at 659 (quoting MCFL, 479 U. S., at 258). “ ‘They reflect instead the economically motivated decisions of investors and customers. The availability of these resources may make a corporation a formidable political presence, even though the power of the corporation may be no reflection of the power of its ideas.’ ” 494 U. S., at 659 (quoting MCFL, 479 U. S., at 258).72

*466It might also be added that corporations have no consciences, no beliefs, no feelings, no thoughts, no desires. Corporations help structure and facilitate the activities of human beings, to be sure, and their “personhood” often serves as a useful legal fiction. But they are not themselves members of “We the People” by whom and for whom our Constitution was established.

These basic points help explain why corporate electioneering is not only more likely to impair compelling governmental interests, but also why restrictions on that electioneering are less likely to encroach upon First Amendment freedoms. One fundamental concern of the First Amendment is to “protec[t] the individual’s interest in self-expression.” Consolidated Edison Co. of N. Y. v. Public Serv. Comm’n of N. Y., 447 U. S. 530, 534, n. 2 (1980); see also Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 777, n. 12. Freedom of speech helps “make men free to develop their faculties,” Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 375 (1927) (Brandéis, J., concurring), it respects their “dignity and choice,” Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15, 24 (1971), and it facilitates the value of “individual self-realization,” Redish, The Value of Free Speech, 130 U. Pa. L. Rev. 591, 594 (1982). Corporate speech, however, is derivative speech, speech by proxy. A regulation such as BCRA § 203 may affect the way in which individuals disseminate certain messages through the corporate form, but it does not prevent anyone from speaking in his or her own voice. “Within the realm of [campaign spending] generally,” corporate *467spending is “furthest from the core of political expression.” Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 161, n. 8.

It is an interesting question “who” is even speaking when a business corporation places an advertisement that endorses or attacks a particular candidate. Presumably it is not the customers or employees, who typically have no say in such matters. It cannot realistically be said to be the shareholders, who tend to be far removed from the day-to-day decisions of the firm and whose political preferences may be opaque to management. Perhaps the officers or directors of the corporation have the best claim to be the ones speaking, except their fiduciary duties generally prohibit them from using corporate funds for personal ends. Some individuals associated with the corporation must make the decision to place the ad, but the idea that these individuals are thereby fostering their self-expression or cultivating their critical faculties is fanciful. It is entirely possible that the corporation’s electoral message will conflict with their personal convictions. Take away the ability to use general treasury funds for some of those ads, and no one’s autonomy, dignity, or political equality has been impinged upon in the least.

Corporate expenditures are distinguishable from individual expenditures in this respect. I have taken the view that a legislature may place reasonable restrictions on individuals’ electioneering expenditures in the service of the governmental interests explained above, and in recognition of the fact that such restrictions are not direct restraints on speech but rather on its financing. See, e. g., Randall, 548 U. S., at 273 (dissenting opinion). But those restrictions concededly present a tougher case, because the primary conduct of actual, flesh-and-blood persons is involved. Some of those individuals might feel that they need to spend large sums of money on behalf of a particular candidate to vindicate the intensity of their electoral preferences. This is obviously not the situation with business corporations, as their routine practice of giving “substantial sums to both major national *468parties” makes pellucidly clear. McConnell, 540 U. S., at 148. “[Co]rporate participation” in elections, any business executive will tell you, “is more transactional than ideological.” Supp. Brief for Committee for Economic Development as Amicus Curiae 10.

In this transactional spirit, some corporations have affirmatively urged Congress to place limits on their electioneering communications. These corporations fear that officeholders will shake them down for supportive ads, that they will have to spend increasing sums on elections in an ever-escalating arms race with their competitors, and that public trust in business will be eroded. See id., at 10-19. A system that effectively forces corporations to use their shareholders’ money both to maintain access to, and to avoid retribution from, elected officials may ultimately prove more harmful than beneficial to many corporations. It can impose a kind of implicit tax.73

In short, regulations such as § 203 and the statute upheld in Austin impose only a limited burden on First Amendment freedoms not only because they target a narrow subset of expenditures and leave untouched the broader “public dialogue,” ante, at 341, but also because they leave untouched *469the speech of natural persons. Recognizing the weakness of a speaker-based critique of Austin, the Court places primary emphasis not on the corporation’s right to electioneer, but rather on the listener’s interest in hearing what every possible speaker may have to say. The Court’s central argument is that laws such as § 203 have “ ‘deprived [the electorate] of information, knowledge and opinion vital to its function,’” ante, at 354 (quoting CIO, 335 U. S., at 144 (Rutledge, J., concurring in result)), and this, in turn, “interferes with the ‘open marketplace’ of ideas protected by the First Amendment,” ante, at 354 (quoting New York State Bd. of Elections v. Lopez Torres, 552 U. S. 196, 208 (2008)).

There are many flaws in this argument. If the overriding concern depends on the interests of the audience, surely the public’s perception of the value of corporate speech should be given important weight. That perception today is the same as it was a century ago when Theodore Roosevelt delivered the speeches to Congress that, in time, led to the limited prohibition on corporate campaign expenditures that is overruled today. See WRTL, 551 U. S., at 509-510 (Souter, J., dissenting) (summarizing President Roosevelt’s remarks). The distinctive threat to democratic integrity posed by corporate domination of politics was recognized at “the inception of the republic” and “has been a persistent theme in American political life” ever since. Regan 302. It is only certain Members of this Court, not the listeners themselves, who have agitated for more corporate electioneering.

Austin recognized that there are substantial reasons why a legislature might conclude that unregulated general treasury expenditures will give corporations “unfai[r] influence” in the electoral process, 494 U. S., at 660, and distort public debate in ways that undermine rather than advance the interests of listeners. The legal structure of corporations allows them to amass and deploy financial resources on a scale few natural persons can match. The structure of a business corporation, furthermore, draws a line between the *470corporation’s economic interests and the political preferences of the individuals associated with the corporation; the corporation must engage the electoral process with the aim “to enhance the profitability of the company, no matter how persuasive the arguments for a broader or conflicting set of priorities,” Brief for American Independent Business Alliance as Amicus Curiae 11; see also ALI, Principles of Corporate Governance: Analysis and Recommendations § 2.01(a), p. 55 (1992) (“[A] corporation . . . should have as its objective the conduct of business activities with a view to enhancing corporate profit and shareholder gain”). In a state election such as the one at issue in Austin, the interests of nonresident corporations may be fundamentally adverse to the interests of local voters. Consequently, when corporations grab up the prime broadcasting slots on the eve of an election, they can flood the market with advocacy that bears “little or no correlation” to the ideas of natural persons or to any broader notion of the public good, 494 U. S., at 660. The opinions of real people may be marginalized. “The expenditure restrictions of [2 U. S. C.] § 441b are thus meant to ensure that competition among actors in the political arena is truly competition among ideas.” MCFL, 479 U. S., at 259.

In addition to this immediate drowning out of noncorporate voices, there may be deleterious effects that follow soon thereafter. Corporate “domination” of electioneering, Austin, 494 U. S., at 659, can generate the impression that corporations dominate our democracy. When citizens turn on their televisions and radios before an election and hear only corporate electioneering, they may lose faith in their capacity, as citizens, to influence public policy. A Government captured by corporate interests, they may come to believe, will be neither responsive to their needs nor willing to give their views a fair hearing. The predictable result is cynicism and disenchantment: an increased perception that large spenders “ ‘call the tune’ ” and a reduced “ ‘willingness of voters to take part in democratic governance.’” McConnell, *471540 U. S., at 144 (quoting Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 390). To the extent that corporations are allowed to exert undue influence in electoral races, the speech of the eventual winners of those races may also be chilled. Politicians who fear that a certain corporation can make or break their reelection chances may be cowed into silence about that corporation. On a variety of levels, unregulated corporate electioneering might diminish the ability of citizens to “hold officials accountable to the people,” ante, at 339, and disserve the goal of a public debate that is “uninhibited, robust, and wide-open,” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 270 (1964). At the least, I stress again, a legislature is entitled to credit these concerns and to take tailored measures in response.

The majority’s unwillingness to distinguish between corporations and humans similarly blinds it to the possibility that corporations’ “war chests” and their special “advantages” in the legal realm, Austin, 494 U. S., at 659 (internal quotation marks omitted), may translate into special advantages in the market for legislation. When large numbers of citizens have a common stake in a measure that is under consideration, it may be very difficult for them to coordinate resources on behalf of their position. The corporate form, by contrast, “provides a simple way to channel rents to only those who have paid their dues, as it were. If you do not own stock, you do not benefit from the larger dividends or appreciation in the stock price caused by the passage of private interest legislation.” Sitkoff, Corporate Political Speech, Political Extortion, and the Competition for Corporate Charters, 69 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1103, 1113 (2002). Corporations, that is, are uniquely equipped to seek laws that favor their owners, not simply because they have a lot of money but because of their legal and organizational structure. Remove all restrictions on their electioneering, and the door may be opened to a type of rent seeking that is “far more destructive” than what noncorporations are capable of. *472Ibid. It is for reasons such as these that our campaign finance jurisprudence has long appreciated that “the ‘differing structures and purposes’ of different entities ‘may require different forms of regulation in order to protect the integrity of the electoral process.’ ” NRWC, 459 U. S., at 210 (quoting California Medical Assn., 453 U. S., at 201).

The Court’s facile depiction of corporate electioneering assumes away all of these complexities. Our colleagues ridicule the idea of regulating expenditures based on “nothing more” than a fear that corporations have a special “ability to persuade,” ante, at 382 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.), as if corporations were our society’s ablest debaters and viewpoint-neutral laws such as §203 were created to suppress their best arguments. In their haste to knock down yet another straw man, our colleagues simply ignore the fundamental concerns of the Austin Court and the legislatures that have passed laws like § 203: to safeguard the integrity, competitiveness, and democratic responsiveness of the electoral process. All of the majority’s theoretical arguments turn on a proposition with undeniable surface appeal but little grounding in evidence or experience, “that there is no such thing as too much speech,” Austin, 494 U. S., at 695 (Scalia, J., dissenting).74 If individuals in our society had infinite free time to listen to and contemplate every last bit of speech uttered by anyone, anywhere; and if broadcast advertisements had no special ability to influence elections apart from the merits of their arguments (to the extent they make any); and if legislators always operated with nothing less than perfect virtue; then I suppose the majority’s premise would be sound. In the real world, we have seen, corporate domination of the airwaves prior to an election may decrease the average listener’s exposure to relevant viewpoints, and it may diminish citizens’ willingness and capacity to participate in the democratic process.

*473None of this is to suggest that corporations can or should be denied an opportunity to participate in election campaigns or in any other public forum (much less that a work of art such as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington may be banned), or to deny that some corporate speech may contribute significantly to public debate. What it shows, however, is that Austin’s “concern about corporate domination of the political process,” id., at 659, reflects more than a concern to protect governmental interests outside of the First Amendment. It also reflects a concern to facilitate First Amendment values by preserving some breathing room around the electoral “marketplace” of ideas, ante, at 335, 350, 354, 367, 369, the marketplace in which the actual people of this Nation determine how they will govern themselves. The majority seems oblivious to the simple truth that laws such as §203 do not merely pit the anticorruption interest against the First Amendment, but also pit competing First Amendment values against each other. There are, to be sure, serious concerns with any effort to balance the First Amendment rights of speakers against the First Amendment rights of listeners. But when the speakers in question are not real people and when the appeal to “First Amendment principles” depends almost entirely on the listeners’ perspective, ante, at 319, 363, it becomes necessary to consider how listeners will actually be affected.

In critiquing Austin’s antidistortion rationale and campaign finance regulation more generally, our colleagues place tremendous weight on the example of media corporations. See ante, at 351-354, 361-362; ante, at 372-373, 382 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.); ante, at 390 (opinion of Scalia, J.). Yet it is not at all clear that Austin would permit § 203 to be applied to them. The press plays a unique role not only in the text, history, and structure of the First Amendment but also in facilitating public discourse; as the Austin Court explained, “media corporations differ significantly from other corporations in that their resources are devoted to the collec*474tion of information and its dissemination to the public,” 494 U. S., at 667. Our colleagues have raised some interesting and difficult questions about Congress’ authority to regulate electioneering by the press, and about how to define what constitutes the press. But that is not the case before us. Section 203 does not apply to media corporations, and even if it did, Citizens United is not a media corporation. There would be absolutely no reason to consider the issue of media corporations if the majority did not, first, transform Citizens United's as-applied challenge into a facial challenge and, second, invent the theory that legislatures must eschew all “identity”-based distinctions and treat a local nonprofit news outlet exactly the same as General Motors.75 This calls to mind George Berkeley’s description of philosophers: “[W]e have first raised a dust, and then complain we cannot see.” Principles of Human Knowledge/Three Dialogues 38, ¶ 3 (R. Woolhouse ed. 1988).

It would be perfectly understandable if our colleagues feared that a campaign finance regulation such as § 203 may be counterproductive or self-interested, and therefore attended carefully to the choices the Legislature has made. But the majority does not bother to consider such practical matters, or even to consult a record; it simply stipulates that “enlightened self-government” can arise only in the absence of regulation. Ante, at 339. In light of the distinctive features of corporations identified in Austin, there is no valid basis for this assumption. The marketplace of ideas is not actually a place where items — or laws — are meant to be bought and sold, and when we move from the realm of eco*475nomics to the realm of corporate electioneering, there may be no “reason to think the market ordering is intrinsically good at all,” Strauss 1386.

The Court’s blinkered and aphoristic approach to the First Amendment may well promote corporate power at the cost of the individual and collective self-expression the Amendment was meant to serve. It will undoubtedly cripple the ability of ordinary citizens, Congress, and the States to adopt even limited measures to protect against corporate domination of the electoral process. Americans may be forgiven if they do not feel the Court has advanced the cause of self-government today.

2. Shareholder Protection

There is yet another way in which laws such as § 203 can serve First Amendment values. Interwoven with Austin’s concern to protect the integrity of the electoral process is a concern to protect the rights of shareholders from a kind of coerced speech: electioneering expenditures that do not “reflee[t] [their] support.” 494 U. S., at 660-661. When corporations use general treasury funds to praise or attack a particular candidate for office, it is the shareholders, as the residual claimants, who are effectively footing the bill. Those shareholders who disagree with the corporation’s electoral message may find their financial investments being used to undermine their political convictions.

The PAC mechanism, by contrast, helps ensure that those who pay for an electioneering communication actually support its content and that managers do not use general treasuries to advance personal agendas. Ibid. It “ ‘allows corporate political participation without the temptation to use corporate funds for political influence, quite possibly at odds with the sentiments of some shareholders or members.’” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 204 (quoting Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 163). A rule that privileges the use of PACs thus does more than facilitate the political speech of like-minded share*476holders; it also curbs the rent seeking behavior of executives and respects the views of dissenters. Austin’s acceptance of restrictions on general treasury spending “simply allows people who have invested in the business corporation for purely economic reasons” — the vast majority of investors, one assumes — “to avoid being taken advantage of, without sacrificing their economic objectives.” Winkler, Beyond Bellotti, 32 Loyola (LA) L. Rev. 133, 201 (1998).

The concern to protect dissenting shareholders and union members has a long history in campaign finance reform. It provided a central motivation for the Tillman Act in 1907 and subsequent legislation, see Pipefitters v. United States, 407 U. S. 385, 414-415 (1972); Winkler, 92 Geo. L. J., at 887-900, and it has been endorsed in a long line of our cases, see, e. g., McConnell, 540 U. S., at 204-205; Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 152-154; MCFL, 479 U. S., at 258; NRWC, 459 U. S., at 207-208; Pipefitters, 407 U. S., at 414-416; see also n. 60, supra. Indeed, we have unanimously recognized the governmental interest in “proteet[ing] the individuals who have paid money into a corporation or union for purposes other than the support of candidates from having that money used to support political candidates to whom they may be opposed.” NRWC, 459 U. S., at 207-208.

The Court dismisses this interest on the ground that abuses of shareholder money can be corrected “through the procedures of corporate democracy,” ante, at 362 (internal quotation marks omitted), and, it seems, through Internet-based disclosures, ante, at 370-371.76 I fail to understand *477how this addresses the concerns of dissenting union members, who will also be affected by today’s ruling, and I fail to understand why the Court is so confident in these mechanisms. By “corporate democracy,” presumably the Court means the rights of shareholders to vote and to bring derivative suits for breach of fiduciary duty. In practice, however, many corporate lawyers will tell you that “these rights are so limited as to be almost nonexistent,” given the internal authority wielded by boards and managers and the expansive protections afforded by the business judgment rule. Blair & Stout 320; see also id., at 298-315; Winkler, 32 Loyola (LA) L. Rev., at 165-166, 199-200. Modern technology may help make it easier to track corporate activity, including electoral advocacy, but it is utopian to believe that it solves the problem. Most American households that own stock do so through intermediaries such as mutual funds and pension plans, see Evans, A Requiem for the Retail Investor? 95 Va. L. Rev. 1105 (2009), which makes it more difficult both to monitor and to alter particular holdings. Studies show that a majority of individual investors make no trades at all during a given year. Id., at 1117. Moreover, if the corporation in question operates a PAC, an investor who sees the company’s ads may not know whether they are being funded through the PAC or through the general treasury.

If and when shareholders learn that a corporation has been spending general treasury money on objectionable electioneering, they can divest. Even assuming that they reliably learn as much, however, this solution is only partial. The injury to the shareholders’ expressive rights has already occurred; they might have preferred to keep that corporation’s stock in their portfolio for any number of economic reasons; and they may incur a capital gains tax or other penalty from selling their shares, changing their pension plan, or the like. The shareholder protection rationale has been criticized as underinclusive, in that corporations also spend money on lobbying and charitable contributions in ways that any particu*478lar shareholder might disapprove. But those expenditures do not implicate the selection of public officials, an area in which “the interests of unwilling... corporate shareholders [in not being] forced to subsidize that speech” “are at their zenith.” Austin, 494 U. S., at 677 (Brennan, J., concurring). And in any event, the question is whether shareholder protection provides a basis for regulating expenditures in the weeks before an election, not whether additional types of corporate communications might similarly be conditioned on voluntariness.

Recognizing the limits of the shareholder- protection rationale, the Austin Court did not hold it out as an adequate and independent ground for sustaining the statute in question. Rather, the Court applied it to reinforce the anti-distortion rationale, in two main ways. First, the problem of dissenting shareholders shows that even if electioneering expenditures can advance the political views of some members of a corporation, they will often compromise the views of others. See, e. g., id., at 663 (discussing risk that corporation’s “members may be ... reluctant to withdraw as members even if they disagree with [its] political expression”). Second, it provides an additional reason, beyond the distinctive legal attributes of the corporate form, for doubting that these “expenditures reflect actual public support for the political ideas espoused,” id., at 660. The shareholder protection rationale, in other words, bolsters the conclusion that restrictions on corporate electioneering can serve both speakers’ and listeners’ interests, as well as the anticorruption interest. And it supplies yet another reason why corporate expenditures merit less protection than individual expenditures.

V

Today’s decision is backwards in many senses. It elevates the majority’s agenda over the litigants’ submissions, facial attacks over as-applied claims, broad constitutional theories *479over narrow statutory grounds, individual dissenting opinions over precedential holdings, assertion over tradition, absolutism over empiricism, rhetoric over reality. Our colleagues have arrived at the conclusion that Austin must be overruled and that §203 is facially unconstitutional only after mischaracterizing both the reach and rationale of those authorities, and after bypassing or ignoring rules of judicial restraint used to cabin the Court’s lawmaking power. Their conclusion that the societal interest in avoiding corruption and the appearance of corruption does not provide an adequate justification for regulating corporate expenditures on candidate elections relies on an incorrect description of that interest, along with a failure to acknowledge the relevance of established facts and the considered judgments of state and federal legislatures over many decades.

In a democratic society, the longstanding consensus on the need to limit corporate campaign spending should outweigh the wooden application of judge-made rules. The majority’s rejection of this principle “elevate[s] corporations to a level of deference which has not been seen at least since the days when substantive due process was regularly used to invalidate regulatory legislation thought to unfairly impinge upon established economic interests.” Bellotti, 435 U. S., at 817, n. 13 (White, J., dissenting). At bottom, the Court’s opinion is thus a rejection of the common sense of the American people, who have recognized a need to prevent corporations from undermining self-government since the founding, and who have fought against the distinctive corrupting potential of corporate electioneering since the days of Theodore Roosevelt. It is a strange time to repudiate that common sense. While American democracy is imperfect, few outside the majority of this Court would have thought its flaws included a dearth of corporate money in politics.

I would affirm the judgment of the District Court.

*480Justice Thomas,

concurring in part and dissenting in part.

I join all but Part IV of the Court’s opinion.

Political speech is entitled to robust protection under the First Amendment. Section 203 of the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA) has never been reconcilable with that protection. By striking down §203, the Court takes an important first step toward restoring full constitutional protection to speech that is “indispensable to the effective and intelligent use of the processes of popular government.” McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 540 U. S. 93, 265 (2003) (Thomas, J., concurring in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part) (internal quotation marks omitted). I dissent from Part IV of the Court’s opinion, however, because the Court’s constitutional analysis does not go far enough. The disclosure, disclaimer, and reporting requirements in BCRA §§201 and 311 are also unconstitutional. See id., at 275-277, and n. 10.

Congress may not abridge the “right to anonymous speech” based on the “ ‘simple interest in providing voters with additional relevant information,’” id., at 276 (quoting McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U. S. 334, 348 (1995)). In continuing to hold otherwise, the Court misapprehends the import of “recent events” that some amici describe “in which donors to certain causes were blacklisted, threatened, or otherwise targeted for retaliation.” Ante, at 370. The Court properly recognizes these events as “cause for concern,” ibid., but fails to acknowledge their constitutional significance. In my view, amici’s submissions show why the Court’s insistence on upholding §§201 and 311 will ultimately prove as misguided (and ill fated) as was its prior approval of § 203.

Amici’s examples relate principally to Proposition 8, a state ballot proposition that California voters narrowly passed in the 2008 general election. Proposition 8 amended *481California’s Constitution to provide that “[o]nly marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.” Cal. Const., Art. I, §7.5. Any donor who gave more than $100 to any committee supporting or opposing Proposition 8 was required to disclose his full name, street address, occupation, employer’s name (or business name, if self-employed), and the total amount of his contributions.1 See Cal. Govt. Code Ann. § 84211(f) (West 2005). The California Secretary of State was then required to post this information on the Internet. See §§84600-84601; §§84602-84602.1 (West Supp. 2010); §§84602.5-84604 (West 2005); §85605 (West Supp. 2010); §§84606-84609 (West 2005).

Some opponents of Proposition 8 compiled this information and created Web sites with maps showing the locations of homes or businesses of Proposition 8 supporters. Many supporters (or their customers) suffered property damage, or threats of physical violence or death, as a result. They cited these incidents in a complaint they filed after the 2008 election, seeking to invalidate California’s mandatory disclosure laws. Supporters recounted being told: “ ‘Consider yourself lucky. If I had a gun I would have gunned you down along with each and every other supporter,’ ” or, “ ‘we have plans for you and your friends.’ ” Complaint in ProtectMarriage.com—Yes on 8 v. Bowen, Case No. 2:09-cv-00058-MCE-DAD (ED Cal.), ¶ 31. Proposition 8 opponents also allegedly harassed the measure’s supporters by defacing or damaging their property. Id., ¶ 32. Two religious organizations supporting Proposition 8 reportedly received through the mail envelopes containing a white powdery substance. Id., ¶ 33.

*482Those accounts are consistent with media reports describing Proposition 8-related retaliation. The director of the nonprofit California Musical Theater gave $1,000 to support the initiative; he was forced to resign after artists complained to his employer. Lott & Smith, Donor Disclosure Has Its Downsides, Wall Street Journal, Dec. 26, 2008, p. A1B. The director of the Los Angeles Film Festival was forced to resign after giving $1,500 because opponents threatened to boycott and picket the next festival. Ibid. And a woman who had managed her popular, family-owned restaurant for 26 years was forced to resign after she gave $100, because “throngs of [angry] protesters” repeatedly arrived at the restaurant and “shout[ed] ‘shame on you’ at customers.” Lopez, Prop. 8 Stance Upends Her Life, Los Angeles Times, Dec. 14, 2008, p. Bl. The police even had to “arriv[e] in riot gear one night to quell the angry mob” at the restaurant. Ibid. Some supporters of Proposition 8 engaged in similar tactics; one real estate businessman in San Diego who had donated to a group opposing Proposition 8 “received a letter from the Prop. 8 Executive Committee threatening to publish his company’s name if he didn’t also donate to the ‘Yes on 8’ campaign.” Donor Disclosure, supra, at A13.

The success of such intimidation tactics has apparently spawned a cottage industry that uses forcibly disclosed donor information to pre-empt citizens’ exercise of their First Amendment rights. Before the 2008 Presidential election, a “newly formed nonprofit group ... plannfed] to confront donors to conservative groups, hoping to create a chilling effect that will dry up contributions.” Luo, Group Plans Campaign Against G.O.P. Donors, N. Y. Times, Aug. 8, 2008, p. A15. Its leader, “who described his effort as ‘going for the jugular,’ ” detailed the group’s plan to send a “warning letter... alerting donors who might be considering giving to right-wing groups to a variety of potential dangers, including *483legal trouble, public exposure and watchdog groups digging through their lives.” Ibid.

These instances of retaliation sufficiently demonstrate why this Court should invalidate mandatory disclosure and reporting requirements. But amici present evidence of yet another reason to do so — the threat of retaliation from elected officials. As amici’s submissions make clear, this threat extends far beyond a single ballot proposition in California. For example, a candidate challenging an incumbent state attorney general reported that some members of the State’s business community feared donating to his campaign because they did not want to cross the incumbent; in his words, “T go to so many people and hear the same thing: “I sure hope you beat [the incumbent], but I can’t afford to have my name on your records. He might come after me next. ” ’ ” Strassel, Challenging Spitzerism at the Polls, Wall Street Journal, Aug. 1, 2008, p. All. The incumbent won reelection in 2008.

My point is not to express any view on the merits of the political controversies I describe. Rather, it is to demonstrate — using real-world, recent examples — the fallacy in the Court’s conclusion that “[disclaimer and disclosure requirements . . . impose no ceiling on campaign-related activities, and do not prevent anyone from speaking.” Ante, at 366 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). Of course they do. Disclaimer and disclosure requirements enable private citizens and elected officials to implement political strategies specifically calculated to curtail campaign-related activity and prevent the lawful, peaceful exercise of First Amendment rights.

The Court nevertheless insists that as-applied challenges to disclosure requirements will suffice to vindicate those speech rights, as long as potential plaintiffs can “show a reasonable probability that disclosure . . . will subject them to threats, harassment, or reprisals from either Government of*484ficials or private parties.” Ante, at 367 (internal quotation marks omitted). But the Court’s opinion itself proves the irony in this compromise. In correctly explaining why it must address the facial constitutionality of § 203, see ante, at 322-336, the Court recognizes that “[t]he First Amendment does not permit laws that force speakers to ... seek declaratory rulings before discussing the most salient political issues of our day,” ante, at 324; that as-applied challenges to §203 “would require substantial litigation over an extended time” and result in an “interpretive process [that] itself would create an inevitable, pervasive, and serious risk of chilling protected speech pending the drawing of fine distinctions that, in the end, would themselves be questionable,” ante, at 326-327; that “a court would be remiss in performing its duties were it to accept an unsound principle merely to avoid the necessity of making a broader ruling,” ante, at 329; and that avoiding a facial challenge to § 203 “would prolong the substantial, nationwide chilling effect” that § 203 causes, ante, at 333. This logic, of course, applies equally to as-applied challenges to §§201 and 311.

Irony aside, the Court’s promise that as-applied challenges will adequately protect speech is a hollow assurance. Now more than ever, §§201 and 311 will chill protected speech because — as California voters can attest — “the advent of the Internet” enables “prompt disclosure of expenditures,” which “provide [s]” political opponents “with the information needed” to intimidate and retaliate against their foes. Ante, at 370. Thus, “disclosure permits citizens ... to react to the speech of [their political opponents] in a proper” — or undeniably improper — “way” long before a plaintiff could prevail on an as-applied challenge.2 Ante, at 371.

*485I cannot endorse a view of the First Amendment that subjects citizens of this Nation to death threats, ruined careers, damaged or defaced property, or pre-emptive and threatening warning letters as the price for engaging in “core political speech, the 'primary object of First Amendment protection.”’ McConnell, 540 U. S., at 264 (Thomas, J., concurring in part, concurring in judgment in part, and dissenting in part) (quoting Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377, 410-411 (2000) (Thomas, J., dissenting)). Accordingly, I respectfully dissent from the Court’s judgment upholding BCRA §§201 and 311.

15.34 Snyder v. Phelps 15.34 Snyder v. Phelps

SNYDER v. PHELPS et al.

No. 09-751.

Argued October 6, 2010

Decided March 2, 2011

*446Sean E. Summers argued the cause for petitioner. With him on the briefs were Alex E. Snyder and Craig T. Trebilcock.

Margie J. Phelps argued the cause and filed a brief for respondents.*

*447Chief Justice Roberts

delivered the opinion of the Court.

A jury held members of the Westboro Baptist Church liable for millions of dollars in damages for picketing near a soldier’s funeral service. The picket signs reflected the church’s view that the United States is overly tolerant of sin and that God kills American soldiers as punishment. The question presented is whether the First Amendment shields the church members from tort liability for their speech in this case.

*448I

A

Fred Phelps founded the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas, in 1955. The church’s congregation believes that God hates and punishes the United States for its tolerance of homosexuality, particularly in America’s military. The church frequently communicates its views by picketing, often at military funerals. In the more than 20 years that the members of Westboro Baptist have publicized their message, they have picketed nearly 600 funerals. Brief for Rutherford Institute as Amicus Curiae 7, n. 14.

Marine Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder was killed in Iraq in the line of duty. Lance Corporal Snyder’s father selected the Catholic church in the Snyders’ hometown of Westminster, Maryland, as the site for his son’s funeral. Local newspapers provided notice of the time and location of the service.

Phelps became aware of Matthew Snyder’s funeral and decided to travel to Maryland with six other Westboro Baptist parishioners (two of his daughters and four of his grandchildren) to picket. On the day of the memorial service, the Westboro congregation members picketed on public land adjacent to public streets near the Maryland State House, the United States Naval Academy, and Matthew Snyder’s funeral. The Westboro picketers carried signs that were largely the same at all three locations. They stated, for instance: “God Hates the USA/Thank God for 9/11,” “America is Doomed,” “Don’t Pray for the USA,” “Thank God for IEDs,” “Thank God for Dead Soldiers,” “Pope in Hell,” “Priests Rape Boys,” “God Hates Fags,” “You’re Going to Hell,” and “God Hates You.”

The church had notified the authorities in advance of its intent to picket at the time of the funeral, and the picketers complied with police instructions in staging their demonstration. The picketing took place within a 10- by 25-foot plot of public land adjacent to a public street, behind a temporary *449fence. App. to Brief for Appellants in No. 08-1026 (CA4), pp. 2282-2285 (hereinafter App.). That plot was approximately 1,000 feet from the church where the funeral was held. Several buildings separated the picket site from the church. Id., at 3758. The. Westboro picketers displayed their signs for about 30 minutes before the funeral began and sang hymns and recited Bible verses. None of the picketers entered church property or went to the cemetery. They did not yell or use profanity, and there was no violence associated with the picketing. Id., at 2168, 2371, 2286, 2293.

The funeral procession passed within 200 to 300 feet of the picket site. Although Snyder testified that he could see the tops of the picket signs as he drove to the funeral, he did not see what was written on the signs until later that night, while watching a news broadcast covering the event. Id., at 2084-2086.1

B

Snyder filed suit against Phelps, Phelps’s daughters, and the Westboro Baptist Church (collectively Westboro or the *450church) in the United States District Court for the District of Maryland under that court’s diversity jurisdiction. Snyder alleged five state tort law claims: defamation, publicity given to private life, intentional infliction of emotional distress, intrusion upon seclusion, and civil conspiracy. West-boro moved for summary judgment contending, in part, that the church’s speech was insulated from liability by the First Amendment. See 533 F. Supp. 2d 567, 570 (2008).

The District Court awarded Westboro summary judgment on Snyder’s claims for defamation and publicity given to private life, concluding that Snyder could not prove the necessary elements of those torts. Id., at 572-573. A trial was held on the remaining claims. At trial, Snyder described the severity of his emotional injuries. He testified that he is unable to separate the thought of his dead son from his thoughts of Westboro’s picketing, and that he often becomes tearful, angry, and physically ill when he thinks about it. Id., at 588-589. Expert witnesses testified that Snyder’s emotional anguish had resulted in severe depression and had exacerbated pre-existing health conditions.

A jury found for Snyder on the intentional infliction of emotional distress, intrusion upon seclusion, and civil conspiracy claims, and held Westboro liable for $2.9 million in compensatory damages and $8 million in punitive damages. Westboro filed several post-trial motions, including a motion contending that the jury verdict was grossly excessive and a motion seeking judgment as a matter of law on all claims on First Amendment grounds. The District Court remitted the punitive damages award to $2.1 million, but left the jury verdict otherwise intact. Id., at 597.

In the Court of Appeals, Westboro’s primary argument was that the church was entitled to judgment as a matter of law because the First Amendment fully protected West-boro’s speech. The Court of Appeals agreed. 580 F. 3d 206, 221 (CA4 2009). The court reviewed the picket signs and concluded that Westboro’s statements were entitled to First *451Amendment protection because those statements were on matters of public concern, were not provably false, and were expressed solely through hyperbolic rhetoric. Id., at 222-224.2

We granted certiorari. 559 U. S. 990 (2010).

II

To succeed on a claim for intentional infliction of emotional distress in Maryland, a plaintiff must demonstrate that the defendant intentionally or recklessly engaged in extreme and outrageous conduct that caused the plaintiff to suffer severe emotional distress. See Harris v. Jones, 281 Md. 560, 565-566, 380 A. 2d 611, 614 (1977). The Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment — “Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech” — can serve as a defense in state tort suits, including suits for intentional infliction of emotional distress. See, e. g., Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U. S. 46, 50-51 (1988).3

Whether the First Amendment prohibits holding West-boro liable for its speech in this ease turns largely on whether that speech is of public or private concern, as determined by all the circumstances of the case. “[SJpeech on ‘matters of public concern’... is ‘at the heart of the First Amendment’s *452protection.’” Dun & Bradstreet, Inc. v. Greenmoss Builders, Inc., 472 U. S. 749, 758-759 (1985) (opinion of Powell, J.) (quoting First Nat. Bank of Boston v. Bellotti, 435 U. S. 765, 776 (1978)). The First Amendment reflects “a profound national commitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 270 (1964). That is because “speech concerning public affairs is more than self-expression; it is the essence of self-government.” Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 74-75 (1964). Accordingly, “speech on public issues occupies the highest rung of the hierarchy of First Amendment values, and is entitled to special protection.” Connick v. Myers, 461 U. S. 138, 145 (1983) (internal quotation marks omitted).

“ ‘[N]ot all speech is of equal First Amendment importance,’ ” however, and where matters of purely private significance are at issue, First Amendment protections are often less rigorous. Hustler, supra, at 56 (quoting Dun & Bradstreet, supra, at 758); see Connick, supra, at 145-147. That is because restricting speech on purely private matters does not implicate the same constitutional concerns as limiting speech on matters of public interest: “[T]here is no threat to the free and robust debate of public issues; there is no potential interference with a meaningful dialogue of ideas”; and the “threat of liability” does not pose the risk of “a reaction of self-censorship” on matters of public import. Dun & Bradstreet, supra, at 760 (internal quotation marks omitted).

We noted a short time ago, in considering whether public employee speech addressed a matter of public concern, that “the boundaries of the public concern test are not well defined.” San Diego v. Roe, 543 U. S. 77, 83 (2004) (per curiam). Although that remains true today, we have articulated some guiding principles, principles that accord broad protection to speech to ensure that courts themselves do not become inadvertent censors.

*453Speech deals with matters of public concern when it can “be fairly considered as relating to any matter of political, social, or other concern to the community,” Connick, supra, at 146, or when it “is a subject of legitimate news interest; that is, a subject of general interest and of value and concern to the public,” San Diego, supra, at 83-84. See Cox Broadcasting Corp. v. Cohn, 420 U. S. 469, 492-494 (1975); Time, Inc. v. Hill, 385 U. S. 374, 387-388 (1967). The arguably “inappropriate or controversial character of a statement is irrelevant to the question whether it deals with a matter of public concern.” Rankin v. McPherson, 483 U. S. 378, 387 (1987).

Our opinion in Dun & Bradstreet, on the other hand, provides an example of speech of only private concern. In that case we held, as a general matter, that information about a particular individual’s credit report “concerns no public issue.” 472 U. S., at 762. The content of the report, we explained, “was speech solely in the individual interest of the speaker and its specific business audience.” Ibid. That was confirmed by the fact that the particular report was sent to only five subscribers to the reporting service, who were bound not to disseminate it further. Ibid. To cite another example, we concluded in San Diego v. Roe that, in the context of a government employer regulating the speech of its employees, videos of an employee engaging in sexually explicit acts did not address a public concern; the videos “did nothing to inform the public about any aspect of the [employing agency’s] functioning or operation.” 543 U. S., at 84.

Deciding whether speech is of public or private concern requires us to examine the “ 'content, form, and context’ ” of that speech, '"as revealed by the whole record.’” Dun & Bradstreet, supra, at 761 (quoting Connick, supra, at 147-148). As in other First Amendment cases, the court is obligated “to 'make an independent examination of the whole record’ in order to make sure that ‘the judgment does not constitute a forbidden intrusion on the field of free expression.’” Bose Corp. v. Consumers Union of United States, *454Inc., 466 U. S. 485, 499 (1984) (quoting New York Times, supra, at 284-286). In considering content, form, and context, no factor is dispositive, and it is necessary to evaluate all the circumstances of the speech, including what was said, where it was said, and how it was said.

The “content” of Westboro’s signs plainly relates to broad issues of interest to society at large, rather than matters of “purely private concern.” Dun & Bradstreet, supra, at 759. The placards read “God Hates the USA/Thank God for 9/11,” “America is Doomed,” “Don’t Pray for the USA,” “Thank God for lEDs,” “Fag Troops,” “Semper Fi Fags,” “God Hates Fags,” “Maryland Taliban,” “Fags Doom Nations,” “Not Blessed Just Cursed,” “Thank God for Dead Soldiers,” “Pope in Hell,” “Priests Rape Boys,” “You’re Going to Hell,” and “God Hates You.” App. 3781-3787. While these messages may fall short of refined social or political commentary, the issues they highlight — the political and moral conduct of the United States and its citizens, the fate of our Nation, homosexuality in the military, and scandals involving the Catholic clergy — are matters of public import. The signs certainly convey Westboro’s position on those issues, in a manner designed, unlike the private speech in Dun & Bradstreet, to reach as broad a public audience as possible. And even if a few of the signs — such as “You’re Going to Hell” and “God Hates You” — were viewed as containing messages related to Matthew Snyder or the Snyders specifically, that would not change the fact that the overall thrust and dominant theme of Westboro’s demonstration spoke to broader public issues.

Apart from the content of Westboro’s signs, Snyder contends that the “context” of the speech — its connection with his son’s funeral — makes the speech a matter of private rather than public concern. The fact that Westboro spoke in connection with a funeral, however, cannot by itself transform the nature of Westboro’s speech. Westboro’s signs, displayed on public land next to a public street, reflect the fact that the church finds much to condemn in modern *455society. Its speech is “fairly characterized as constituting speech on a matter of public concern,” Connick, 461 U. S., at 146, and the funeral setting does not alter that conclusion.

Snyder argues that the church members in fact mounted a personal attack on Snyder and his family, and then attempted to “immunize their conduct by claiming that they were actually protesting the United States’ tolerance of homosexuality or the supposed evils of the Catholic Church.” Reply Brief for Petitioner 10. We are not concerned in this case that Westboro’s speech on public matters was in any way contrived to insulate speech on a private matter from liability. Westboro had been actively engaged in speaking on the subjects addressed in its picketing long before it became aware of Matthew Snyder, and there can be no serious claim that Westboro’s picketing did not represent its “honestly believed” views on public issues. Garrison, 379 U. S., at 73. There was no pre-existing relationship or conflict between Westboro and Snyder that might suggest Westboro’s speech on public matters was intended to mask an attack on Snyder over a private matter. Contrast Connick, 461 U. S., at 153 (finding public employee speech a matter of private concern when it was “no coincidence that [the speech] followed upon the heels of [a] transfer notice” affecting the employee).

Snyder goes on to argue that Westboro’s speech should be afforded less than full First Amendment protection “not only because of the words” but also because the church members exploited the funeral “as a platform to bring their message to a broader audience.” Brief for Petitioner 44, 40. There is no doubt that Westboro chose to stage its picketing at the Naval Academy, the Maryland State House, and Matthew Snyder’s funeral to increase publicity for its views and because of the relation between those sites and its views — in the case of the military funeral, because Westboro believes that God is killing American soldiers as punishment for the Nation’s sinful policies.

*456Westboro’s choice to convey its views in conjunction with Matthew Snyder’s funeral made the expression of those views particularly hurtful to many, especially to Matthew’s father. The record makes clear that the applicable legal term — “emotional distress” — fails to capture fully the anguish Westboro’s choice added to Mr. Snyder’s already incalculable grief. But Westboro conducted its picketing peacefully on matters of public concern at a public place adjacent to a public street. Such space occupies a “special position in terms of First Amendment protection.” United States v. Grace, 461 U. S. 171, 180 (1983), “[W]e have repeatedly referred to public streets as the archetype of a traditional public forum,” noting that “ '[t]ime out of mind’ public streets and sidewalks have been used for public assembly and debate.” Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U. S. 474, 480 (1988).4

That said, “[ejven protected speech is not equally permissible in all places and at all times.” Id., at 479 (quoting Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Ed. Fund, Inc., 473 U. S. 788, 799 (1985)). Westboro’s choice of where and when to conduct its picketing is not beyond the Government’s regulatory reach — it is “subject to reasonable time, place, or manner restrictions” that are consistent with the standards announced in this Court’s precedents. Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288, 293 (1984). Maryland now has a law imposing restrictions on funeral picketing, Md. Crim. Law Code Ann. § 10-205 (Lexis Supp. 2010), as do 43 other States and the Federal Government. See Brief for American Legion as Amicus Curiae 18-19, n. 2 *457(listing statutes). To the extent these laws are content neutral, they raise very different questions from the tort verdict at issue in this case. Maryland’s law, however, was not in effect at the time of the events at issue here, so we have no occasion to consider how it might apply to facts such as those before us, or whether it or other similar regulations are constitutional.5

We have identified a few limited situations where the location of targeted picketing can be regulated under provisions that the Court has determined to be content neutral. In Frisby, for example, we upheld a ban on such picketing “before or about” a particular residence, 487 U. S., at 477. In Madsen v. Women’s Health Center, Inc., we approved an injunction requiring a buffer zone between protesters and an abortion clinic entrance. 512 U. S. 753, 768 (1994). The facts here are obviously quite different, both with respect to the activity being regulated and the means of restricting those activities.

Simply put, the church members had the right to be where they were. Westboro alerted local authorities to its funeral protest and fully complied with police guidance on where the picketing could be staged. The picketing was conducted under police supervision some 1,000 feet from the church, out of the sight of those at the church. The protest was not unruly; there was no shouting, profanity, or violence.

The record confirms that any distress occasioned by West-boro’s picketing turned on the content and viewpoint of the message conveyed, rather than any interference with the funeral itself. A group of parishioners standing at the very spot where Westboro stood, holding signs that said “God Bless America” and “God Loves You,” would not have been subjected to liability. It was what Westboro said that exposed it to tort damages.

*458Given that Westboro’s speech was at a public place on a matter of public concern, that speech is entitled to “special protection” under the First Amendment. Such speech cannot be restricted simply because it is upsetting or arouses contempt. “If there is a bedrock principle underlying the First Amendment, it is that the government-may not prohibit the expression of an idea simply because society finds the idea itself offensive or disagreeable.” Texas v. Johnson, 491 U. S. 397, 414 (1989). Indeed, “the point of all speech protection ... is to shield just those choices of content that in someone’s eyes are misguided, or even hurtful.” Hurley v. Irish-American Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Group of Boston, Inc., 515 U. S. 557, 574 (1995).

The jury here was instructed that it could hold Westboro liable for intentional infliction of emotional distress based on a finding that Westboro’s picketing was “outrageous.” “Out-rageousness,” however, is a highly malleable standard with “an inherent subjeetiveness about it which would allow a jury to impose liability on the basis of the jurors’ tastes or views, or perhaps on the basis of their dislike of a particular expression.” Hustler, 485 U. S., at 55 (internal quotation marks omitted). In a case such as this, a jury is “unlikely to be neutral with respect to the content of [the] speech,” posing “a real danger of becoming an instrument for the suppression of . . . Vehement, caustic, and sometimes unpleas-an[t]’” expression. Bose Corp., 466 U. S., at 510 (quoting New York Times, 376 U. S., at 270). Such a risk is unacceptable; “in public debate [we] must tolerate insulting, and even outrageous, speech in order to provide adequate ‘breathing space’ to the freedoms protected by the First Amendment.” Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S. 312, 322 (1988) (some internal quotation marks omitted). What Westboro said, in the whole context of how and where it chose to say it, is entitled to “special protection” under the First Amendment, and that protection cannot be overcome by a jury finding that the picketing was outrageous.

*459For all these reasons, the jury verdict imposing tort liability on Westboro for intentional infliction of emotional distress must be set aside.

m

The jury also found Westboro liable for the state law torts of intrusion upon seclusion and civil conspiracy. The Court of Appeals did not examine these torts independently of the intentional infliction of emotional distress tort. Instead, the Court of Appeals reversed the District Court wholesale, holding that the judgment wrongly “attache[d] tort liability to constitutionally protected speech.” 580 F. 3d, at 226.

Snyder argues that even assuming Westboro’s speech is entitled to First Amendment protection generally, the church is not immunized from liability for intrusion upon seclusion because Snyder was a member of a captive audience at his son’s funeral. Brief for Petitioner 45-46. We do not agree. In most circumstances, “the Constitution does not permit the government to decide which types of-otherwise protected speech are sufficiently offensive to require protection for the unwilling listener or viewer. Rather, . . . the burden normally falls upon the viewer to avoid further bombardment of [his] sensibilities simply by averting [his] eyes.” Erznoznik v. Jacksonville, 422 U. S. 205, 210-211 (1975) (internal quotation marks omitted). As a result, “[t]he ability of government, consonant with the Constitution, to shut off discourse solely to protect others from hearing it is . . . dependent upon a showing that substantial privacy interests are being invaded in an essentially intolerable manner.” Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15, 21 (1971).

As a general matter, we have applied the captive audience doctrine only sparingly to protect unwilling listeners from protected speech. For example, we have upheld a statute allowing a homeowner to restrict the delivery of offensive mail to his home, see Rowan v. Post Office Dept., 397 U. S. 728, 736-738 (1970), and an ordinance prohibiting picketing *460“before or about” any individual’s residence, Frisby, 487 U. S., at 477, 484-485.

Here, Westboro stayed well away from the memorial service. Snyder could see no more than the tops of the signs when driving to the funeral. And there is no indication that the picketing in any way interfered with the funeral service itself. We decline to expand the captive audience doctrine to the circumstances presented here.

Because we find that the First Amendment bars Snyder from recovery for intentional infliction of emotional distress or intrusion upon seclusion — the alleged unlawful activity Westboro conspired to accomplish — we must likewise hold that Snyder cannot recover for civil conspiracy based on those torts.

IV

Our holding today is narrow. We are required in First Amendment cases to carefully review the record, and the reach of our opinion here is limited by the particular facts before us. As we have noted, “the sensitivity and significance of the interests presented in clashes between First Amendment and [state law] rights counsel relying on limited principles that sweep no more broadly than the appropriate context of the instant case.” Florida Star v. B. J. F., 491 U. S. 524, 533 (1989).

Westboro believes that America is morally flawed; many Americans might feel the same about Westboro. Westboro’s funeral picketing is certainly hurtful and its contribution to public discourse may be negligible. But Westboro addressed matters of public import on public property, in a peaceful manner, in full compliance with the guidance of local officials. The speech was indeed planned to coincide with Matthew Snyder’s funeral, but did not itself disrupt that funeral, and Westboro’s choice to conduct its picketing at that time and place did not alter the nature of its speech.

Speech is powerful. It can stir people to action, move them to tears of both joy and sorrow, and — as it did here— *461inflict great pain. On the facts before us, we cannot react to that pain by punishing the speaker. As a Nation we have chosen a different course — to protect even hurtful speech on public issues to ensure that we do not stifle public debate. That choice requires that we shield Westboro from tort liability for its picketing in this case.

The judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit is affirmed.

It is so ordered.

Justice Breyer,

concurring.

I agree with the Court and join its opinion. That opinion restricts its analysis here to the matter raised in the petition for certiorari, namely, Westboro’s picketing activity. The opinion does not examine in depth the effect of television broadcasting. Nor does it say anything about Internet postings. The Court holds that the First Amendment protects the picketing that occurred here, primarily because the picketing addressed matters of “public concern.”

While I agree with the Court's conclusion that the picketing addressed matters of public concern, I do not believe that our First Amendment analysis can stop at that point. A State can sometimes regulate picketing, even picketing on matters of public concern. See Frisby v. Schultz, 487 U. S. 474 (1988). Moreover, suppose that A were physically to assault B, knowing that the assault (being newsworthy) would provide A with an opportunity to transmit to the public his views on a matter of public concern. The constitutionally protected nature of the end would not shield A's use of unlawful, unprotected means. And in some circumstances the use of certain words as means would be similarly unprotected. See Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568 (1942) (“fighting words”).

The dissent recognizes that the means used here consist of speech. But it points out that the speech, like an assault, seriously harmed a private individual. Indeed, the state *462tort of “intentional infliction of emotional distress” forbids only conduct that produces distress “so severe that no reasonable man could be expected to endure it,” and which itself is “so outrageous in character, and so extreme in degree, as to go beyond all possible bounds of decency, and to be regarded as atrocious, and utterly intolerable in a civilized community.” Post, at 464 (opinion of Alito, J.) (quoting Harris v. Jones, 281 Md. 560, 567, 571, 380 A. 2d 611, 614, 616 (1977); internal quotation marks omitted). The dissent requires us to ask whether our holding unreasonably limits liability for intentional infliction of emotional distress — to the point where A (in order to draw attention to his views on a public matter) might launch a verbal assault upon B, a private person, publicly revealing the most intimate details of B’s private life, while knowing that the revelation will cause B severe emotional harm. Does our decision leave the State powerless to protect the individual against invasions of, e. g., personal privacy, even in the most horrendous of sueh circumstances?

As I understand the Court’s opinion, it does not hold or imply that the State is always powerless to provide private individuals with necessary protection. Rather, the Court has reviewed the underlying facts in detail, as will sometimes prove necessary where First Amendment values and state-protected (say, privacy-related) interests seriously conflict. Cf. Florida Star v. B. J. F., 491 U. S. 524, 533 (1989); Bose Corp. v. Consumers Union of United States, Inc., 466 U. S. 485, 499 (1984). That review makes clear that West-boro’s means of communicating its views consisted of picketing in a place where picketing was lawful and in compliance with all police directions. The picketing could not be seen or heard from the funeral ceremony itself. And Snyder testified that he saw no more than the tops of the picketers’ signs as he drove to the funeral. To uphold the application of state law in these circumstances would punish Westboro for seeking to communicate its views on matters of public *463concern without proportionately advancing the State’s interest in protecting its citizens against severe emotional harm. Consequently, the First Amendment protects Westboro. As I read the Court’s opinion, it holds no more.

Justice Alito,

dissenting.

Our profound national commitment to free and open debate is not a license for the vicious verbal assault that occurred in this case.

Petitioner Albert Snyder is not a public figure. He is simply a parent whose son, Marine Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder, was killed in Iraq. Mr. Snyder wanted what is surely the right of any parent who experiences such an incalculable loss: to bury his son in peace. But respondents, members of the Westboro Baptist Church, deprived Mm of that elementary right. They first issued a press release and thus turned Matthew’s funeral into a tumultuous media event. They then appeared at the church, approached as closely as they could without trespassing, and launched a malevolent verbal attack on Matthew and his family at a time of acute emotional vulnerability. As a result, Albert Snyder suffered severe and lasting emotional injury.1 The Court now holds that the First Amendment protected respondents’ right to brutalize Mr. Snyder. I cannot agree.

I

Respondents and other members of their church have strong opinions on certain moral, religious, and political issues, and the First Amendment ensures that they have almost limitless opportunities to express their views. They may write and distribute books, articles, and other texts; they may create and disseminate video and audio recordings; they may circulate petitions; they may speak to individuals and groups in public forums and in any private venue that *464wishes to accommodate them; they may picket peacefully in countless locations; they may appear on television and speak on the radio; they may post messages on the Internet and send out e-mails. And they may express their views in terms that are “uninhibited,” “vehement,” and “caustic.” New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U. S. 254, 270 (1964).

It does not follow, however, that they may intentionally inflict severe emotional injury on private persons at a time of intense emotional sensitivity by launching vicious verbal attacks that make no contribution to public debate. To protect against such injury, “most if not all jurisdictions” permit recovery in tort for the intentional infliction of emotional distress (or IIED). Hustler Magazine, Inc. v. Falwell, 485 U. S. 46, 53 (1988).

This is a very narrow tort with requirements that “are rigorous, and difficult to satisfy.” W. Keeton, D. Dobbs, R. Keeton, & D. Owen, Prosser and Keeton on Law of Torts § 12, p. 61 (5th ed. 1984). To recover, a plaintiff must show that the conduct at issue caused harm that was truly severe. See Figueiredo-Torres v. Nickel, 321 Md. 642, 653, 584 A. 2d 69, 75 (1991) (“[RJecovery will be meted out sparingly, its balm reserved for those wounds that are truly severe and incapable of healing themselves” (internal quotation marks omitted)); Harris v. Jones, 281 Md. 560, 571, 380 A. 2d 611, 616 (1977) (the distress must be “ ‘so severe that no reasonable man could be expected to endure it’ ” (quoting Restatement (Second) of Torts § 46, Comment j (1963-1964))).

A plaintiff must also establish that the defendant’s conduct was “ ‘so outrageous in character, and so extreme in degree, as to go beyond all possible bounds of decency, and to be regarded as atrocious, and utterly intolerable in a civilized community.’ ” Harris, supra, at 567, 380 A. 2d, at 614 (quoting Restatement (Second) of Torts § 46, Comment d).

Although the elements of the IIED tort are difficult to meet, respondents long ago abandoned any effort to show *465that those tough standards were not satisfied here. On appeal, they chose not to contest the sufficiency of the evidence. See 580 F. 3d 206, 216 (CA4 2009). They did not dispute that Mr. Snyder suffered “'wounds that are truly severe and incapable of healing themselves.’ ” Figueiredo-Torres, supra, at 653, 584 A. 2d, at 75. Nor did they dispute that their speech was “'so outrageous in character, and so extreme in degree, as to go beyond all possible bounds of decency, and to be regarded as atrocious, and utterly intolerable in a civilized community.’” Harris, supra, at 567, 380 A. 2d, at 614. Instead, they maintained that the First Amendment gave them a license to engage in such conduct. They are wrong.

II

It is well established that a claim for the intentional infliction of emotional distress can be satisfied by speech. Indeed, what has been described as “[t]he leading case” recognizing this tort involved speech. Prosser and Keeton, supra, §12, at 60 (citing Wilkinson v. Downton, [1897] 2 Q. B. 57); see also Restatement (Second) of Torts § 46, Illustration 1. And although this Court has not decided the question, I think it is clear that the First Amendment does not entirely preclude liability for the intentional infliction of emotional distress by means of speech.

This Court has recognized that words may “by their very utterance inflict injury” and that the First Amendment does not shield utterances that form “no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality.” Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 572 (1942); see also Cantwell v. Connecticut, 310 U. S. 296, 310 (1940) (“[P]ersonal abuse is not in any proper sense communication of information or opinion safeguarded by the Constitution”). When grave injury is intentionally inflicted by *466means of an attack like the one at issue here, the First Amendment should not interfere with recovery.

Ill

In this case, respondents brutally attacked Matthew Snyder, and this attack, which was almost certain to inflict injury, was central to respondents’ well-practiced strategy for attracting public attention.

On the morning of Matthew Snyder’s funeral, respondents could have chosen to stage their protest at countless locations. They could have picketed the United States Capitol, the White House, the Supreme Court, the Pentagon, or any of the more than 5,600 military recruiting stations in this country. They could have returned to the Maryland State House or the United States Naval Academy, where they had been the day before. They could have selected any public road where pedestrians are allowed. (There are more than 4,000,000 miles of public roads in the United States.2) They could have staged their protest in a public park. (There are more than 20,000 public parks in this country.3) They could have chosen any Catholic church where no funeral was taking place. (There are nearly 19,000 Catholic churches in the United States.4) But of course, a small group picketing at any of these locations would have probably gone unnoticed.

The Westboro Baptist Church, however, has devised a strategy that remedies this problem. As the Court notes, church members have protested at nearly 600 military funerals. Ante, at 448. They have also picketed the funerals of *467police officers,5 firefighters,6 and the victims of natural disasters,7 accidents,8 and shocking crimes.9 And in advance of these protests, they issue press releases to ensure that their protests will attract public attention.10

This strategy works because it is expected that respondents’ verbal assaults will wound the family and friends of the deceased and because the media is irresistibly drawn to the sight of persons who are visibly in grief. The more outrageous the funeral protest, the more publicity the Westboro Baptist Church is able to obtain. Thus, when the church recently announced its intention to picket the funeral of a 9-year-old girl killed in the shooting spree in Tucson — proclaiming that she was “better off dead”11 — their announcement was national news,12 and the church was able to obtain *468free air time on the radio in exchange for canceling its protest.13 Similarly, in 2006, the church got air time on a talk radio show in exchange for canceling its threatened protest at the funeral of five Amish girls killed by a crazed gunman.14

In this case, respondents implemented the Westboro Baptist Church’s publicity-seeking strategy. Their press release stated that they were going “to picket the funeral of Lance Cpl. Matthew A. Snyder” because “God Almighty killed Lance Cpl. Snyder. He died in shame, not honor — for a fag nation cursed by God .... Now in Hell — sine die.” Supp. App. in No. 08-1026 (CA4), p. 158a. This announcement guaranteed that Matthew’s funeral would be transformed into a raucous media event and began the wounding process. It is well known that anticipation may heighten the effect of a painful event.

On the day of the funeral, respondents, true to their word, displayed placards that conveyed the message promised in their press release. Signs stating “God Hates You” and “Thank God for Dead Soldiers” reiterated the message that God had caused Matthew’s death in retribution for his sins. App. to Brief for Appellants in No. 08-1026 (CA4), pp. 3787, 3788. Others, stating “You’re Going to Hell” and “Not Blessed Just Cursed,” conveyed the message that Matthew was “in Hell — sine die.” Id., at 3783.

Even if those who attended the funeral were not alerted in advance about respondents’ intentions, the meaning of these signs would not have been missed. Since respondents chose to stage their protest at Matthew Snyder’s funeral and not *469at any of the other countless available venues, a reasonable person would have assumed that there was a connection between the messages on the placards and the deceased. Moreover, since a church funeral is an event that naturally brings to mind thoughts about the afterlife, some of respondents’ signs — e.g., “God Hates You,” “Not Blessed Just Cursed,” and “You’re Going to Hell” — would have likely been interpreted as referring to God’s judgment of the deceased.

Other signs would most naturally have been understood as suggesting — falsely—that Matthew was gay. Homosexuality was the theme of many of the signs. There were signs reading “God Hates Fags,” “Semper Fi Fags,” “Fags Doom Nations,” and “Fag Troops.” Id., at 3781-3787. Another placard depicted two men engaging in anal intercourse. A reasonable bystander seeing those signs would have likely concluded that they were meant to suggest that the deceased was a homosexual.

After the funeral, the Westboro picketers reaffirmed the meaning of their protest. They posted an online account entitled “The Burden of Marine Lance Cpl. Matthew A. Snyder. The Visit of Westboro Baptist Church to Help the Inhabitants of Maryland Connect the Dots!” Id., at 3788.15 Belying any suggestion that they had simply made general comments about homosexuality, the Catholic Church, and the *470United States military, the “epic” addressed the Snyder family directly:

“God blessed you, Mr. and Mrs. Snyder, with a resource and his name was Matthew. He was an arrow in your quiver! In thanks to God for the comfort the child could bring you, you had a DUTY to prepare that child to serve the LORD his GOD — PERIOD! You did JUST THE OPPOSITE — you raised him for the devil.
“Albert and Julie RIPPED that body apart and taught Matthew to defy his Creator, to divorce, and to commit adultery. They taught him how to support the largest pedophile machine in the history of the entire world, the Roman Catholic monstrosity. Every dime they gave the Roman Catholic monster they condemned their own souls. They also, in supporting satanie Catholicism, taught Matthew to be an idolater.
“Then after all that they sent him to fight for the United States of Sodom, a filthy country that is in lock step with his evil, wicked, and sinful manner of life, putting him in the cross hairs of a God that is so mad He has smoke coming from his nostrils and fire from his mouth! How dumb was that?” Id., at 3791.

In light of this evidence, it is abundantly clear that respondents, going far beyond commentary on matters of public concern, specifically attacked Matthew Snyder because (1) he was a Catholic and (2) he was a member of the United States military. Both Matthew and petitioner were private figures,16 and this attack was not speech on a matter of public concern. While commentary on the Catholic Church or the United States military constitutes speech on matters of public concern, speech regarding Matthew Snyder's purely private conduct does not.

*471Justice Breyer provides an apt analogy to a case in which the First Amendment would permit recovery in tort for a verbal attack:

“[S]uppose that A were physically to assault B, knowing that the assault (being newsworthy) would provide A with an opportunity to transmit to the public his views on a matter of public concern. The constitutionally protected nature of the end would not shield A’s use of unlawful, unprotected means. And in some circumstances the use of certain words as means would be similarly unprotected.” Ante, at 461 (concurring opinion).

This captures what respondents did in this case. Indeed, this is the strategy that they have routinely employed — and that they will now continue to employ — inflicting severe and lasting emotional injury on an ever growing list of innocent victims.

IV

The Court concludes that respondents’ speech was protected by the First Amendment for essentially three reasons, but none is sound.

First — and most important — the Court finds that “the overall thrust and dominant theme of [their] demonstration spoke to” broad public issues. Ante, at 454. As I have attempted to show, this portrayal is quite inaccurate; respondents’ attack on Matthew was of central importance. But in any event, I fail to see why actionable speech should be immunized simply because it is interspersed with speech that is protected. The First Amendment allows recovery for defamatory statements that are interspersed with nondefama-tory statements on matters of public concern, and there is no good reason why respondents’ attack on Matthew Snyder and his family should be treated differently.

Second, the Court suggests that respondents’ personal attack on Matthew Snyder is entitled to First Amendment protection because it was not motivated by a private grudge,

*472see ante, at 455, but I see no basis for the strange distinction that the Court appears to draw. Respondents’ motivation— "to increase publicity for its views,” ibid. — did not transform their statements attacking the character of a private figure into statements that made a contribution to debate on matters of public concern. Nor did their publicity-seeking motivation soften the sting of their attack. And as far as culpability is concerned, one might well think that wounding statements uttered in the heat of a private feud are less, not more, blameworthy than similar statements made as part of a cold and calculated strategy to slash a stranger as a means of attracting public attention.

Third, the Court finds it significant that respondents’ protest occurred on a public street, but this fact alone should not be enough to preclude IIED liability. To be sure, statements made on a public street may be less likely to satisfy the elements of the IIED tort than statements made on private property, but there is no reason why a public street in close proximity to the scene of a funeral should be regarded as a free-fire zone in which otherwise actionable verbal attacks are shielded from liability. If the First Amendment permits the States to protect their residents from the harm inflicted by such attacks — and the Court does not hold otherwise — then the location of the tort should not be dispositive. A physical assault may occur without trespassing; it is no defense that the perpetrator had "the right to be where [he was].” See ante, at 457. And the same should be true with respect to unprotected speech. Neither classic “fighting words” nor defamatory statements are immunized when they occur in a public place, and there is no good reason to treat a verbal assault based on the conduct or character of a private figure like Matthew Snyder any differently.

One final comment about the opinion of the Court is in order. The Court suggests that the wounds inflicted by vicious verbal assaults at funerals will be prevented or at least mitigated in the future by new laws that restrict picketing *473within a specified distance of a funeral. See ante, at 456-457. It is apparent, however, that the enactment of these laws is no substitute for the protection provided by the established IIED tort; according to the Court, the verbal attacks that severely wounded petitioner in this case complied with the new Maryland law regulating funeral picketing. See ante, at 457, n. 5. And there is absolutely nothing to suggest that Congress and the state legislatures, in enacting these laws, intended them to displace the protection provided by the well-established IIED tort.

The real significance of these new laws is not that they obviate the need for IIED protection. Rather, their enactment dramatically illustrates the fundamental point that funerals are unique events at which special protection against emotional assaults is in order. At funerals, the emotional well-being of bereaved relatives is particularly vulnerable. See National Archives and Records Admin. v. Favish, 541 U. S. 157, 168 (2004). Exploitation of a funeral for the purpose of attracting public attention “intrud[es] upon their ... grief,” ibid., and may permanently stain their memories of the final moments before a loved one is laid to rest. Allowing family members to have a few hours of peace without harassment does not undermine public debate. I would therefore hold that, in this setting, the First Amendment permits a private figure to recover for the intentional infliction of emotional distress caused by speech on a matter of private concern.

V

In reversing the District Court judgment in favor of petitioner, the Court of Appeals relied on several grounds not discussed in the opinion of this Court or in the separate opinion supporting affirmance. I now turn briefly to those issues.

First, the Court of Appeals held that the District Court erred by allowing the jury to decide whether respondents’ speech was “'directed specifically at the Snyder family.’” *474580 F. 3d, at 221. It is not clear whether the Court of Appeals thought that this was a question for the trial judge alone or a question on which the judge had to make a preliminary ruling before sending it to the jury. In either event, however, the submission of this question to the jury was not reversible error because, as explained above, it is clear that respondents’ statements targeted the Snyders.

Second, the Court of Appeals held that the trial judge went astray in allowing the jury to decide whether respondents’ speech was so “'offensive and shocking as to not be entitled to First Amendment protection.’” Ibid. This instruction also did respondents no harm. Because their speech did not relate to a matter of public concern, it was not protected from liability by the First Amendment, and the only question for the jury was whether the elements of the IIED tort were met.

Third, the Court of Appeals appears to have concluded that the First Amendment does not permit an IIED plaintiff to recover for speech that cannot reasonably be interpreted as stating actual facts about an individual. See id., at 222. In reaching this conclusion, the Court of Appeals relied on two of our cases — Milkovich v. Lorain Journal Co., 497 U. S. 1 (1990), and Hustler, 485 U. S. 46 — but neither supports the broad proposition that the Court of Appeals adopted.

Milkovich was a defamation case, and falsity is an element of defamation. Nothing in Milkovich even hints that the First Amendment requires that this defamation element be engrafted onto the IIED tort.

Hustler did involve an IIED claim, but the plaintiff there was a public figure, and the Court did not suggest that its holding would also apply in a case involving a private figure. Nor did the Court suggest that its holding applied across the board to all types of IIED claims. Instead, the holding was limited to “publications such as the one here at issue,” namely, a caricature in a magazine. 485 U. S., at 56. Unless a caricature of a public figure can reasonably be interpreted *475as stating facts that may be proved to be wrong, the caricature does not have the same potential to wound as a personal verbal assault on a vulnerable private figure.

Because I cannot agree either with the holding of this Court or the other grounds oh which the Court of Appeals relied, I would reverse the decision below and remand for further proceedings.17

VI

Respondents’ outrageous conduct caused petitioner great injury, and the Court now compounds that injury by depriving petitioner of a judgment that acknowledges the wrong he suffered.

In order to have a society in which public issues can be openly and vigorously debated, it is not necessary to allow the brutalization of innocent victims like petitioner. I therefore respectfully dissent.

15.35 Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Ass'n 15.35 Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Ass'n

No. 08-1448.

BROWN, GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA, et al. v. ENTERTAINMENT MERCHANTS ASSOCIATION et al.

Decided June 27, 2011

Argued November 2, 2010

with whom The Chief Justice joins,

Zackery P. Morazzini, Supervising Deputy Attorney Gen­eral of California, argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs were Edmund G. Brown, Jr., Attorney General, David S. Chaney, Chief Assistant Attorney Gen­eral, Manuel M. Medeiros, State Solicitor General, Gordon Burns, Deputy Solicitor General, Jonathan K. Renner, Se­nior Assistant Attorney General, and Daniel J. Powell, Dep­uty Attorney General.

Paul M. Smith argued the cause for respondents. With him on the brief were Katherine A. Fallotv, Matthew S. Hell­man, Duane C. Pozza, William M. Hohengarten, and Ken­neth L. Doroshow *

*

Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for the State of Loui­siana et al. by James D. “Buddy” Caldwell, Attorney General of Louisiana, James Trey Phillips, First Assistant Attorney General, and S. Kyle Dun­can, Appellate Chief, and by the Attorneys General for their respective States as follows: Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut, Bill McCollum of Florida, Mark J. Bennett of Hawaii, Lisa Madigan of Illinois, Douglas F. Gansler of Maryland, Michael A Cox of Michigan, Lori Swanson of Min­nesota, Jim Hood of Mississippi, Greg Abbott of Texas, and Kenneth T. Cuccinelli II of Virginia; for the Eagle Forum Education & Legal Defense Fund by Andrew L, Schlafly; and for California State Senator Leland Y. Yee et al. by Steven F. Gruel.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the State of Rhode Island et al. by Patrick C. Lynch, Attorney General of Rhode Is­land, Joseph M. Lipner, and Elliot Brown, and by the Attorneys General for their respective jurisdictions as follows: Dustin McDaniel of Arkansas, Thurbert E. Baker of Georgia, Jon C. Bruning of Nebraska, Wayne Sten-­ehjem of North Dakota, W. A Drew Edmondson of Oklahoma, Guillermo A. Somoza-Colombani of Puerto Rico, Henry McMaster of South Caro­lina, Mark L. Shurtleff of Utah, and Robert M. McKenna of Washington; for Activision Blizzard, Inc., by Paul J. Watford; for the American Book­sellers Foundation for Free Expression et al. by Michael A Bamberger and Richard M. Zuckerman; for the American Civil Liberties Union et al. by Christopher A Hanson, Steven R. Shapiro, David Blair-Luy, Joan E. Bertin, Peter J. Eliasberg, and Alan Schlosser; for the Chamber of Com­merce of the United States of America by Lisa S. Blatt, Christopher S. Rhee, Robin S. Conrad, and Amar Sarwal; for the Computer & Communi­cations Industry Association et al. by John B. Morris, Jr.; for the Con­sumer Electronic Retailers Coalition et al. by Seth D. Greenstein; for the Entertainment Consumers Association et al. by William R. Stein, Daniel H. Weiner, Daniel C. Doeschner, and Jennifer Mercurio; for the First Amendment Lawyers Association by Lawrence G. Walters and Jennifer S. Kinsley; for First Amendment Scholars by Donald M. Falk and Eugene Volokh; for the Future of Music Coalition et al. by Andrew Jay Schwartz-­man; for Id Software LLC by James T. Dralceley, Kevin J. Keith, Paul E. Salamanca, and J. Griffin Lesher; for the International Game Developers Association et al. by Christopher J. Wright, Timothy J. Simeone, and Mark D. Davis; for the Marion B. Brechner First Amendment Project et al. by Clay Calvert and Robert D. Richards; for Microsoft Corp. by Theodore B, Olson and Matthew D. McGill, for the Motion Picture Associ­ation of America, Inc., et al. by Kannon K Shanmugam, David E. Ken-­dull, and Thomas G. Hcntoff; for the National Association of Broadcasters by Robert A Long, Jr., Stephen A Weiswasser, Mark W. Mosier, Jane E. Mago, and Jerianne Timmerman; for the National Cable & Telecommuni­cations Association by H. Bartow Farr III, Rick Chessen, Neal M. Gold­berg, Michael S. Schooler, and Diane B. Burstein; for the Progress & Freedom Foundation et al. by Cindy Cohn; for Social Scientists et al. by Patricia A Millctt and Michael C. Small; for the Thomas Jefferson Cen­ter for the Protection of Free Expression et al. by Robert M. O’Neil and J. Joshua Wheeler; and for Vindieia, Inc., by Alan Gura and Laura Possessky.

Briefs of amici curiae were filed for the Cato Institute by John P. El­wood, Ilya Shapiro, and Thomas S. Leatherbury; for the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund by Robert Corn Revere and Ronald G. London; for Common Sense Media by Thoodoro M. Shaw and Kevin W Saunders; for the First Amendment Coalition by Gary L. Bootwioh and Jacm-Paul Jassy; for the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press ot al. by Lucy Dalglish, Gregg P. Leslie, Kevin M. Goldberg, David Greene, Mickey P Oatcrroichcr, Bruce IK Sanford, Bruco D. Brown, and Laurie A Babin ski; and for the Rutherford Institute by John W. Whitehead.

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.

California 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

H-1 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 (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 (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.” United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U. S. 803, 818 (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 (1952).

The most basic of those principles is this: “[A]s a general matter, . . . government has no power to restrict expression because of its message, its ideas, its subject matter, or its content.” Ashcroft v. American Civil Liberties Union, 535 U. S. 564, 573 (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 (2010) (quoting R. A. V. v. St. Paul, 505 U. S. 377, 382-383 (1992)). These limited areas — such as obscenity, Roth v. United States, 354 U. S. 476, 483 (1957), incitement, Branden­burg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444, 447-449 (1969) (per curiam), and fighting words, Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U. S. 568, 572 (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.

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(e)(1). A saving clause largely borrowed from our obscenity jurisprudence, see Miller v. California, 413 U. S. 15, 24 (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.

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. We emphatically rejected that “startling and dangerous” propo­sition. Ibid. “Maybe there are some categories of speech that have been historically unprotected, but have not yet been specifically identified or discussed as such in our case law.” Id., at 472. 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.

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 not cover whatever a legislature finds shocking, but only de­pictions of “sexual conduct,” Miller, supra, at 24. See also Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15, 20 (1971); Roth, supra, at 487, and n. 20.

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. 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, 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.

Because speech about violence is not 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 (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 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 (quoting Mishkin v. New York, 383 U. S. 502, 509 (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.

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. “[Mjinors 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 (1975) (citation omitted). No doubt a State pos­sesses legitimate power to protect children from harm, Gins­berg, supra, at 640-641; Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158, 165 (1944), but that does not include a free-floating power to restrict the ideas to which children may be ex­posed. “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 213-214.3

California’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 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 transis. 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 transl. 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

This 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 (1915), but we eventually reversed course, Joseph Burstyn, Inc., 343 U. S., at 502; see also Erznoznik, supra, at 212-214 (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 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, 577 (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, video games in which “the violence is astounding,” post, at 818. “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, of those

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. The State must specifically identify an “actual problem” in need of solving, Playboy, 529 U. S., at 822-823, and the cur­tailment of free speech must be actually necessary to the solution, see R. A. V, supra, at 395. 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.

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 (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. California’s burden is much higher, and because it bears the 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.

I­I­I risk of uncertainty, see Playboy, supra, at 816-817, 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 them,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, “[njearly 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 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 cartoons, the sale of games rated for young 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 (1994); Florida Star v. B. J. F., 491 U. S. 524, 540 (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 underinclusive 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.

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 biit 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 products 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/P994511violententertainment.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

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 (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 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 seriously under-­inclusive nor seriously overinclusive. See Church of Lu­kumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah, 508 U. S. 520, 546 (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.

1

Justice Alito distinguishes Stevens on several grounds that seem to us ill founded. He suggests, post, at 814 (opinion concurring in judgment), that Stevens did not apply strict scrutiny. If that is so (and we doubt it), it would make this an a fortiori case. He says, post, at 814, that the California Act punishes the sale or rental rather than the “creation” or “possession” of violent depictions. That distinction appears nowhere in Stevens itself, and for good reason: It would make permissible the pro­hibition of printing or selling books — though not the writing of them. "Whether government regulation applies to creating, distributing, or con­suming speech makes no difference. And finally, Justice Alito points out, post, at 814, that Stevens “left open the possibility that a more nar­rowly drawn statute” would be constitutional. True, but entirely irrele­vant. Stevens said, 559 U. S., at 482, that the “crush-video” statute at issue there might pass muster if it were limited to videos of acts of animal cruelty that violated the law where the acts were performed. There is no contention that any of the virtual characters depicted in the imagina­tive videos at issue here are criminally liable.

2

The statute in Ginsberg restricted-the sale of certain depictions of ‘“nudity, sexual conduct, sexual excitement, or sado-masochistic abuse’” that were ‘“[h]armful to minors.’” A depiction was harmful to minors if it:

“(i) predominantly appeals to the prurient, shameful or morbid interest of minors, and

“(ü) is patently offensive to prevailing standards in the adult commu­nity as a whole with respect to what is suitable material for minors, and

“(iii) is utterly without redeeming social importance for minors.” 390 U. S., at 646 (Appendix A to opinion of the Court) (quoting N. Y. Penal Law § 484-h(1)(f)).

3

Justice Thomas ignores the holding of Erznoznik, and denies that persons under 18 have any constitutional right to Gpoalc or bo spoken to without their parents’ consent. He cites no case, state or federal, support­ing this view, and to our knowledge there is none. Most of his dissent is devoted to the proposition that parents have traditionally had the power to control what their children hear and say. This is true enough. And it perhaps follows from this that the state has the power to enforce parental prohibitions — to require, for example, that the promoters of a rock eoncort exclude those minors whose parents have advised the promoters that their children are forbidden to attend. But it does not follow that the state has the power to prevent children from hearing or saying anything without their parents’ prior consent. The latter would mean, for example, that it could be made criminal to admit persons under 18 to a political rally with­out their parents’ prior written consent — even a political rally in support of laws against corporal punishment of children, or laws in favor of greater rights for minors. And what is good for First Amendment rights of speech must be good for First Amendment rights of religion as well: It could be made criminal to admit a person under 18 to church, or to give a person under 18 a religious tract, without his parents’ prior consent. Our point is not, as Justice Thomas believes, post, at 836, n. 2, merely that such laws are “undesirable.” They are obviously an infringement upon the religious freedom of young people and thooo who wish to proselytizo young people. Such laws do not enforce parental authority over chil­dren’s speech and religion; they impose governmental authority, subject only to a parental veto. In the absence of any precedent for state control, uninvited by the parents, over a child’s speech and religion (Justice Thomas cites none), and in the absence of any justification for such control that would satisfy strict scrutiny, those laws must be unconstitutional. This argument is not, as Justice Thomas asserts, “circular,” ibid. It is the absence of any historical warrant or compelling justification for such restrictions, not our ipse dixit, that renders them invalid.

4

Justice Auto accuses us of pronouncing that playing violent video games “is not different in ‘kind’ ” from reading violent literature. Post, at 806. Well of course it is different in kind, but not in a way that causes the provision and viewing of violent video games, unlike the provision and reading of books, not to be expressive activity and hence not to enjoy First Amendment protection. Reading Dante is unquestionably more cul­tured and intellectually edifying than playing Mortal Kombat. But these cultural and intellectual differences are not constitutional ones. Crudely violont video games, tawdry TV shows, and cheap novels and magazines are no less forms of speech than The Divine Comedy, and restrictions upon them must survive strict scrutiny — a question to which we devote our attention in Part III, infra. Even if we can see in them “nothing of any possible value to society .. ., they are as much entitled to the protection of free speech as the best of literature.” Winters v. New York, 338 U. S. 507, 510 (1948).

5

The crusade against comic books was led by a psychiatrist, Frederic Wertham, who told the Senate Judiciary Committee that “as long as the crime comic books industry exists in its present forms there are no secure homes.” Juvenile Delinquency (Comic Books): Hearings before the Sub­committee to Investigate Juvenile Delinquency, 83d Cong., 2d Sess., 84 (1954). Wertham’s objections extended even to Superman comics, which he described as “particularly injurious to the ethical development of chil­dren.” Id., at 86. Wertham’s crusade did convince the New York Legis­lature to pass a ban on the sale of certain comic books to minors, but it was vetoed by Governor Thomas Dewey on the ground that it was uncon­stitutional given our opinion in Winters, supra. See People v. Bookcase, Inc., 14 N. Y. 2d 409, 412-413, 201 N. E. 2d 14, 15-16 (1964).

6

See Video Software Dealers Assn. v. Schwarzenegger, 556 F. 3d 950, 963-964 (CA9 2009); Interactive Digital Software Assn. v. St. Louis County, 329 F. 3d 954 (CA8 2003); American Amusement Machine Assn. v. Kendrick, 244 F. 3d 572, 578-579 (CA7 2001); Entertainment Software Assn. v. Foti, 451 F. Supp. 2d 823, 832-833 (MD La, 2006); Entertainment Software Assn. v. Hatch, 443 F. Supp. 2d 1065, 1070 (Minn. 2006), aff’d, 519 F. 3d 768 (CA8 2008); Entertainment Software Assn. v. Granholm, 426 F. Supp. 2d 646, 653 (ED Mich. 2006); Entertainment Software Assn. v. Blagojevich, 404 F. Supp. 2d 1051, 1063 (ND Ill. 2005), aff’d, 469 F. 3d 641 (CA7 2006).

7

One study, for example, found that children who had just finished play­ing violent video games were more likely to fill in the blank letter in “explo_e” with a “d” (so that it reads “explode”) than with an “r” (“ex­plore”). App. 496, 506 (internal quotation marks omitted). The preven­tion of this phenomenon, which might have been anticipated with common sense, is not a compelling state interest.

8

Justice Auto is mistaken in thinking that we fail to take account of “new and rapidly evolving technology,” post, at 806. The studies in ques­tion pertain to that new and rapidly evolving technology, and fail to show, with the degree of certitude that strict scrutiny requires, that this subject-matter restriction on speech is justified. Nor is Justice Alito correct in attributing to us the view that “violent video games really pre­sent no serious problem.” Ibid. Perhaps they do present a problem, and perhaps none of us would allow our own children to play them. But there are all sorts of “problems” — some of them surely more serious than this one — that cannot be addressed by governmental restriction of free expres­sion: for example, the problem of encouraging anti-Semitism (National Socialist Party of America v. Skokie, 432 U. S. 43 (1977) (per curiam)), the problem of spreading a political philosophy hostile to the Constitution (Noto v. United States, 367 U. S. 290 (1961)), or the problem of encouraging disrespect for the Nation’s flag (Texas v. Johnson, 491 U. S. 397 (1989)).

Justice Breyer would hold that California has satisfied strict scrutiny based upon his own research into the issue of the harmfulness of violent video games. See post, at 858-872 (appendixes to dissenting opinion) (listing competing academic articles discussing the harmfulness vel non of violent video games). The vast preponderance of this research is outside the record — and in any event we do not see how it could lead to Justice Breyer’s conclusion, since he admits he cannot say whether the studies on his side are right or wrong. Post, at 853. Similarly, Justice Axito says he is not “sure” whether there are any constitutionally dispositive differences between video games and other media. Post, at 806. If that is so, then strict scrutiny plainly has not been satisfied.

9

Justice Breyer concludes that the remaining gap is compelling be­cause, according to the FTC’s report, some “20% of those under 17 are still able to buy M-rated video games.” Post, at 856 (citing FTC Report 28). But some gap in compliance is unavoidable. The sale of alcohol to minors, for example, has long been illegal, but a 2005 study suggests that about 18% of retailers still sell alcohol to those under the drinking age. Brief for State of Rhode Island et al. as Amici Curiae 18. Even if the sale of violent video games to minors could be deterred further by increas­ing regulation, the government does not have a compelling interest in each marginal percentage point by which its goals are advanced.

Justice Auto,

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.

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. 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.

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.

I

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 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 (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 (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 (1964) (quoting Speiser v. Randall, 357 U. S. 513, 526 (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 (1989), “government may regulate in the area” of First Amendment freedoms “only with narrow specificity,” NAACP v. Button, 371 U. S. 415, 433 (1963); see also Hoffman Estates v. Flipside, Hoffman Estates, Inc., 455 U. S. 489, 499 (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 (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 (1968) — a law that prohibited the sale of certain sexually related materials to minors, see id., at 631-633. But the California Legislature departed 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 (1957), and Book Named “John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure” v. Attorney General of Mass., 383 U. S. 413 (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 (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. 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 describ[e], 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 (internal quotation marks omitted).

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 specifically defined “hard core” depictions. See 413 U. S., at 23-25, 27. 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 lewd exhibition of the genitals.” Id., at 25. 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; see also Reno, 521 U. S., at 873 (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 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 California 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 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, 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.

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 of 18. Tr. of Oral Arg. 11-12. However, “it is not within our power to construe and narrow state laws.” Grayned, 408 U. S., at 110. 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 (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 (2010), “controls this case.” Ante, at 792. First, the statute in Stevens differed sharply 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. 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, our most closely related precedent. As a result of today’s decision, a 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. 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 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, 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 decisionmaking 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. 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 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 (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 experience 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 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 in the 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 machineguns, 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 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 ahother 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 characteristics 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. 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.

It is certainly true, as the Court notes, that “ ‘[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.’ ” Ante, at 798 (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 Raskolnikov 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, 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 States or by the Federal Govern­ment, we can consider the constitutionality of those laws when cases challenging them are presented to us.

1

It is well established that a judgment may be affirmed on an alterna­tive ground that was properly raised but not addressed by the lowor court. Washington v. Confederated Bands and Tribes of Yakima Nation, 439 U. S. 463, 476-478, n. 20 (1979).

2

Under the California law, a game that meets the threshold requirement set out in text also qualifies as “violent” if it “[e]nables the player to virtu­ally inflict serious injury upon images of human beings or characters with substantially human characteristics in a manner which is especially hei­nous, cruel, or depraved in that it involves torture or serious physical abuse to the victim.” § 1746(d)(1)(B). In the Court of Appeals, Califor­nia conceded that this alternative definition is unconstitutional, Video Soft­ware Dealers Assn. v. Schwarzenegger, 556 F. 3d 950, 954, n. 5 (CA9 2009), and therefore only the requirements set out in text are now before us.

3

The provision of New York law under which the petitioner was con­victed in Ginsberg v. New York, 390 U. S. 629 (1968), was framed with similar specificity. This provision applied to depictions of “nudity” and “sexual conduct,” and both those terms were specifically and unambigu­ously defined. See id., at 645-647 (Appendix A to opinion of the Court).

4

The California law does not define the term “maiming,” nor has the State cited any decisions from its courts that define the term in this con­text. Accordingly, I take the term to have its ordinary meaning, which includes the infliction of any serious wound, see Webster’s Third New In­ternational Dictionary 1362 (2002) (hereinafter Webster’s).

5

At oral argument, California also proposed that the term “minors” could be interpreted as referring to the “typical age group of minors” who play video games. Tr. of Oral Arg. 11. But nothing in the law’s text supports such a limitation. Nor has California cited any decisions indicat­ing that its courts would restrict the law in this way. And there is noth­ing in the record indicating what this age group might be.

6

A 2004 Federal Trade Commission Report showed that 69 percent of unaccompanied children ages 13 to 16 were able to buy M-rated games and that 56 percent of 13-year-olds were able to buy an M-rated game. Marketing Violent Entertainment to Children: A Fourth Follow-Up Re­view of Industry Practices in the Motion Picture, Music Recording & Elec­tronic Game Industries 26-28 (July 2004), http://www.ftc.gov/os/2004/07/ 040708kidsvioleneerpt.pdf (all Internet materials as visited June 24, 2011, and available in Clerk of Court’s ease file).

7

See Chayka, Visual Games: Photorealism in Crisis, Kill Screen (May 2011), http://killscreendaily.con3/artieles/visual-games-photorealism-crisis.

8

To see brief video excerpts from games with highly realistic graphics, see Spike TV Video Game Awards 2010 — Game of the Year Nominees, GameTrailers.com (Dec. 10, 2010), http://www.gametrailers.com/video/ game-of-spike-tv-vga/707755?type=flv.

9

See Selleck, Sony PSS Launching 50 3D-Capable Video Games in the Near Future, SlashGear (Nov. 23, 2010), http://www.slashgear.com/ sony-ps3-launching-50-3d-eapable-video-games-in-the-near-future-23115866; Sofge, Why 3D Doesn’t Work for TV, But Is Great for Gaming, Popular Mechanics (Mar. 11, 2010), http://www.popularmechanies.com/teehnology/ digital/gaming/4342437.

10

T. Chatfield, Fun Inc.: Why Games Axe the Twenty-first Century's Most Serious Business 211 (2010) (predicting that “[w]e can expect . . . physical feedback and motion detection as standard in every gaming de­vice in the near future”); J. Blascovich & J. Bailenson, Infinite Reality: Avatars, Eternal Life, New Worlds, and the Dawn of the Virtual Revolu­tion 2 (2011) (“Technological developments powering virtual worlds are accelerating, ensuring that virtual experiences will become more immer-­sive by providing sensory information that makes people feel they are ‘inside’ virtual worlds” (emphasis in the original)).

11

See Topolsky, The Mindwire V5 Turns Gaming Into Pure Electroshock Torture, Engadget (Mar. 9, 2008), http://www.engadget.com/2008/08/09/ the-mindwire-v5-turns-gaming-into-pure-eleetroshock-torture; Greenemeier, Video Game Vest Simulates Sensation of Being Capped, Scientific Amer­ican (Oct. 25, 2007), http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.efm?id= video-game-vest-simulates.

12

See Schiesel, A Real Threat Now Faces the Nintendo Wii, N. Y. Times, Dec. 3, 2010, p. F7 (describing how leading developers of video-game con­soles are competing to deliver gesture-controlled gaming devices).

13

For a sample of violent video games, see Wilson, The 10 Most Vio­lent Video Games of All Time, PCMag.com (Feb. 10, 2011), http:// www.pcmag.com/article2/0,2817,2379959,OO.asp. To see brief video ex­cerpts from violent games, see Chomik, Top 10: Most Violent Video Games, AskMen.com, http://www.askmen.com/top_10/videogame/top-­10-most-violent-video-games.html; Sayed, 15 Most Violent Video Games That Made You Puke, Gamingbolt (May 2, 2010), http://gamingbolt.com/ 15-most-violent-video-games-that-made-you-puke.

14

Webley, “School Shooter” Video Game To Reenact Columbine, Virginia Tech Killings, Time (Apr. 20, 2011), http://newsfeed.time.com/2011/04/20/ sehool-shooter-video-game-reenaets-columbine-virginia-tech-killings. After a Web site that made School Shooter available for download re­moved it in response to mounting criticism, the developer stated that it may make the game available on its own Web site. Inside the Sick Site of a School Shooter Mod (Mar. 26, 2011), http://ssnat.com.

15

Lah, “RapeLay” Video Game Goes Viral Amid Outrage, CNN (Mar. 30, 2010), http://articles.cnn.com/2010-03-30/world/japanwideo. game.rape_l_game-teenage-girl-japanese-government?_s=PM:WORLD.

16

Graham, Custer May Be Shot Down Again in a Battle of the Sexes Over X-Rated Video Games, People, Nov. 15, 1982, pp. 110, 115.

17

Scheeres, Games Elevate Hate to Next Level, Wired (Feb. 20, 2002), http://www.wired.com/print/culture/lifestyle/news/2002/02/50523.

18

Thompson, A View to a Kill: JFK Reloaded Is Just Plain Creepy, Slate (Nov. 22, 2004), http://www.slate.com/id/2110034.

19

As the Court notes, there are a few children’s books that ask young readers to step into the ohooo of a character and to malee choices that take the stories along one of a very limited number of possible lines. See ante, at 798. But the very nature of the print medium makes it impossible for a book to offor anything like the same number of choices as those provided by a video game.

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., Arndt. 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

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 (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 (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 (1942); see also United States v. Stevens, 559 U. S. 460, 468-469 (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 (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. 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 freedom of speech” to include a right to 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).

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 remained. 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 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 humouring 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. Fliegelman, 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.

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 Ameri­can 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 decisionmaking 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 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. ‘Touth 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 (“[C]hildren, 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 never known or felt their own wills till they were one and twenty years of age”); Burgh 7 (“[T]he souls of Youth are 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 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 .... [AJbove 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 of Virginia 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 and 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 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 (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 of trelated 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. 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 never 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 ideás;... 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 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. Glucksberg, 521 U. S. 702, 712 (1997) (Blackstone’s Commen­taries was “a primary legal authority 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, afterwards, that their fathers were entitled to their military wages. See Cox, Boy Soldiers of the American Revolution, in Marten 21-24. And after the 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 ability 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.

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. 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

B

Admittedly, the original public understanding of a consti­tutional provision does not always comport with modern sen­sibilities. See Morse, 551 U. S., at 419 (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 (Thomas, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (rejecting the Slaughter-House Cases, 16 Wall. 36 (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 (2005) (Appendix D to opinion 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 (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 (1975), and the government may not uni­laterally dictate what children can say or hear, see id., at 213-214; Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503, 511 (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; cf. post, at 841-842 (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 (1979). Under that case law,

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 (Alito, J., concurring in judgment); post, at 848 (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 “legislature^] [can] properly conclude that parents and oth­ers, 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 (1968); see also Bellotti v. Baird, 443 U. S. 622, 635 (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; id., at 638-639 (“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”).

I­II the statute facially unconstitutional. See ante, at 789-790, 799-804. 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 (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 ease, 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 implicate 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.

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

1

Justice Alito concludes that the law is too vague to satisfy due proc­ess, but neither the District Court nor the Court of Appeals addressed that question. Ante, at 806-813 (opinion concurring in judgment). As we have often said, this Court is “one of final review, ‘not of first view.’ ” FCC v. Fox Television Stations, Inc., 556 U. S. 502, 529 (2009) (quoting Cutter v. Wilkinson, 544 U. S. 709, 718, n. 7 (2005)).

2

The majority responds that “it does not follow” from the historical evidence “that the state has the power to prevent children from hear­ing... anything without their parents’prior consent.” Ante, at 795, n. 3. Such a conclusion, the majority asserts, would lead to laws that, in its view, would be undesirable and “obviously” unconstitutional. Ibid.

The majority’s circular argument misses the point. The question is not whether certain laws might make sense to judges or legislators today, but rather what the public likely understood “the freedom of speech” to mean when the First Amendment was adopted. See District of Columbia v. Heller, 554 U. S. 570, 634-635 (2008). I believe it is clear that the founding public would not have understood “the freedom of speech” to include speech to minor children bypassing their parents. It follows that the First Amendment imposes no restriction on state regulation of such speech. To note that there may not be “precedent for [such] state con­trol,” ante, at 795, n. 3, “is not to establish that [there] is a constitutional right,” McIntyre v. Ohio Elections Comm’n, 514 U. S. 334, 373 (1995) (Scalia, J., dissenting).

3

Whether the statute would survive an as-applied challenge in the un­usual case of an emancipated minor is a question for another day. To decide this ease, it is enough that the statute is not unconstitutional on its face.

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. 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 (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 (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, 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 (1944). And the “ Tegulatio[n] of communica­tion 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, 890 U. S. 629, 638, n. 6 (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, 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 (1919); Holder v. Humanitarian Law Project, 561 U. S. 1 (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 prohibited,” and consequently it is not impermissibly vague. United States v. Williams, 553 U. S. 285, 304 (2008). 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.

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 (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. No Member of the Court voiced any vagueness objection. See id., at 648-650 (Stewart, J., con­curring in result); id., at 650-671 (Douglas, J., joined by Black, J., dissenting); id., at 671-675 (Portas, J., dissenting).

Comparing the language of California’s statute (set forth supra, at 840) 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 can only cover “ ‘hard core’ ” depictions. Ante, at 810 (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 “narrow5’ 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 (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 (1989), this Court specifically upheld the use of Miller’s language against charges of vague­ness. California only departed from the Miller formulation in two significant 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, 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 (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 (1964) (concurring opinion). And Justice Douglas dissented from Miller’s standard, which he thought was still too vague. 413 U. S., at 39-40. 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 (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 (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/&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 purposes of vagueness, why should that matter? Justice Auto argues that the Miller standard sufficed because there are “certain generally accepted norms concerning ex­pression related to sex,” whereas there are no similarly “ac­cepted standards regarding the suitability of violent enter­tainment.” Ante, at 811-812. 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 Auto 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 (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 (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 (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.

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, 621 U. S. 844, 874, 875, 879 (1997). I would not apply this strict standard “mechanically.” United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U. S. 803, 841 (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 which the statute injures speech-­related interests, the nature of the potentially justifying “compelling interests,” the degree to which the statute far-­thers 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 (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” 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; but cf. id., at 41 (Breyer, J., dissenting), and limit speech near polling places, Burson, supra, at 210-211 (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 (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 (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 (1989). Since the Court in Ginsberg speci­fied that the statute’s prohibition applied to material that was not obscene, 390 U. S., at 634,1 cannot dismiss Ginsberg on the ground that it concerned obscenity. But cf. ante, at 793-794 (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. 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 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 (Alito, J., concurring in judgment) (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 858.

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 689-640. Cf. id., at 639, n. 7 (“‘[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 “‘parental control or guidance cannot always be provided.'” 390 U. S., at 640. 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 (2005). And we have therefore recognized “a compelling interest in protecting the physical and psychological well-being of minors.” Sable Communications, supra, at 126.

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), online at http://artieles.cnn.com/2001-11-2/ tech/2war.games_l_ictbill-swartout-real-world-traimng?_s= PM.-TECH.

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. 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 Möller & 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 e1067 (2008); Wallen­ius & Punamaki, 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).

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 common­sense way why video 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 this page and 854-855 (statements of expert public health associations agreeing that interactive games can be more harmful than “passive” media like television); ante, at 816-­821 (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:

“[O]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:

“[Comprehensive 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.” Resolution on Violence in Video Games and Interactive Media (2005), online at http://www.apa.org/about/governance/council/ policy/interaetive-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 pro-­social behavior. Recent longitudinal studies . . . have revealed that in as little as 3 months, high exposure to violent video games increased physical aggression. 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 (deferring, while applying strict scrutiny, to the Government’s national security judgments); Turner Broadcasting System, Inc. v. FCC, 520 U. S. 180, 195-196 (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 (stating that the studies do not provide evidence that violent video games “cause” harm (emphasis deleted)), with supra, at 851 (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. 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 then-­sales to those 17 and older. See ante, at 803. 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. 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/ P994511violententertainment.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 860”) more than 47,000 times. See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFlVfVmvN6k.

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 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. And 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.

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 violen* 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. 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 Affeet, 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).

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 In­structions 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 el067 (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, & Monteiro, Are the Effects of Unreal Violent Video Games Pronounced When Playing With a Virtual Reality System? 34 Aggressive Behavior 521 (2008).

Baldaro et al., Aggressive and Non-Violent 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 Came 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).

Barlett, 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, 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).

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 Application 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).

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, Kastenmiiller, & Greitemeyer, 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, & Baumgardner, Violence Exposure in Real-Life, Video Games, Television, Movies, and the Internet: Is There Desensitization? 27 J. Adolescence 23 (2004).

Funk, Buehman, Jenks, & Beehtoldt, 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, Buehman, Jenks, & Beehtoldt, 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 Pediatrica 337 (2005).

Gentile et al., The Effects of Prosocial Video Games on Pro­social Behaviors: International Evidence From Correla­tional, Longitudinal, and Experimental Studies, 35 Person­ality & Soc. Psychology Bull. 752 (2009).

Gentile, Lynch, Linder, & Walsh, The Effects of Violent Video Game Habits on Adolescent Hostility, Aggressive Behaviors, and School Performance, 27 J. Adolescence 5 (2004).

Gentile & 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 Ideation of Aggressive and Nonaggressive 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).

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).

Krahe & 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).

Krcmar & 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).

Krononborgcr ct 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 CyberPsyehology & 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: Teleop-­erators & 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, 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 Competitive 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, & Sig-­fusdottir, 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).

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, & Luthman, Hostile and Hard­ened? An Experimental Study on (De-)sensitization 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 & Punamaki, 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, Punamaki, & Rimpela, 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).

Wang et al., Short Term Exposure to a Violent Video Game Induces Changes in Frontolimbic Circuitry in Adolescents, 3 Brain Imaging & Behavior 38 (2009).

Weber, 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).

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 Young Adults, 17 J. Aggression, Maltreatment & Trauma 395 (2008).

Ferguson & Kilburn, Much Ado About Nothing: The Misesti-­mation 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).

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).

Sestir & Bartholow, Violent and Nonviolent Video Games Produce Opposing Effects on Aggressive and Prosocial 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).

15.36 McCutcheon v. Federal Election Commission 15.36 McCutcheon v. Federal Election Commission

572 U.S. 185 (2014)

Syllabus

NOTE: Where it is feasible, a syllabus (headnote) will be released, as is being done in connection with this case, at the time the opinion is issued. The syllabus constitutes no part of the opinion of the Court but has been prepared by the Reporter of Decisions for the convenience of the reader. See United States v. Detroit Timber & Lumber Co., 200 U. S. 321 .

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

Syllabus

McCUTCHEON et al. v. FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

appeal from the united states district court for the district of columbia

No. 12–536. Argued October 8, 2013—Decided April 2, 2014

The right to participate in democracy through political contributions is protected by the First Amendment, but that right is not absolute. Congress may regulate campaign contributions to protect against corruption or the appearance of corruption. See, e.g., Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 –27. It may not, however, regulate contributions simply to reduce the amount of money in politics, or to restrict the political participation of some in order to enhance the relative influence of others. See, e.g., Arizona Free Enterprise Club’s Freedom Club PAC v. Bennett, 564 U. S. ___, ___.

          The Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (FECA), as amended by the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA), imposes two types of limits on campaign contributions. Base limits restrict how much money a donor may contribute to a particular candidate or committee while aggregate limits restrict how much money a donor may contribute in total to all candidates or committees. 2 U. S. C. §441a.

          In the 2011–2012 election cycle, appellant McCutcheon contributed to 16 different federal candidates, complying with the base limits applicable to each. He alleges that the aggregate limits prevented him from contributing to 12 additional candidates and to a number of noncandidate political committees. He also alleges that he wishes to make similar contributions in the future, all within the base limits. McCutcheon and appellant Republican National Committee filed a complaint before a three-judge District Court, asserting that the aggregate limits were unconstitutional under the First Amendment. The District Court denied their motion for a preliminary injunction and granted the Government’s motion to dismiss. Assuming that the base limits appropriately served the Government’s anticorruption interest, the District Court concluded that the aggregate limits survived First Amendment scrutiny because they prevented evasion of the base limits.

Held: The judgment is reversed, and the case is remanded.

893 F. Supp. 2d 133, reversed and remanded.

     Chief Justice Roberts, joined by Justice Scalia, Justice Kennedy, and Justice Alito, concluded that the aggregate limits are invalid under the First Amendment. Pp. 7–40.

     (a) Appellants’ substantial First Amendment challenge to the current system of aggregate limits merits plenary consideration. Pp. 7–14.

          (1) In Buckley, this Court evaluated the constitutionality of the original contribution and expenditure limits in FECA. Buckley distinguished the two types of limits based on the degree to which each encroaches upon protected First Amendment interests. It subjected expenditure limits to “the exacting scrutiny applicable to limitations on core First Amendment rights of political expression.” 424 U. S., at 44–45. But it concluded that contribution limits impose a lesser restraint on political speech and thus applied a lesser but still “rigorous standard of review,” id., at 29, under which such limits “may be sustained if the State demonstrates a sufficiently important interest and employs means closely drawn to avoid unnecessary abridgement of associational freedoms,” id., at 25. Because the Court found that the primary purpose of FECA—preventing quid pro quo corruption and its appearance—was a “sufficiently important” governmental interest, id., at 26–27, it upheld the base limit under the “closely drawn” test, id., at 29. After doing so, the Court devoted only one paragraph of its 139-page opinion to the aggregate limit then in place under FECA, noting that the provision “ha[d] not been separately addressed at length by the parties.” Id., at 38. It concluded that the aggregate limit served to prevent circumvention of the base limit and was “no more than a corollary” of that limit. Id., at 38. Pp. 7–9.

          (2) There is no need in this case to revisit Buckley’s distinction between contributions and expenditures and the corresponding distinction in standards of review. Regardless whether strict scrutiny or the “closely drawn” test applies, the analysis turns on the fit between the stated governmental objective and the means selected to achieve that objective. Here, given the substantial mismatch between the Government’s stated objective and the means selected to achieve it, the aggregate limits fail even under the “closely drawn” test.

     Buckley’s ultimate conclusion about the constitutionality of the aggregate limit in place under FECA does not control here. Buckley spent just three sentences analyzing that limit, which had not been separately addressed by the parties. Appellants here, by contrast, have directly challenged the aggregate limits in place under BCRA, a different statutory regime whose limits operate against a distinct legal backdrop. Most notably, statutory safeguards against circumvention have been considerably strengthened since Buckley. The 1976 FECA Amendments added another layer of base limits—capping contributions from individuals to political committees—and an antiproliferation rule prohibiting donors from creating or controlling multiple affiliated political committees. Since Buckley, the Federal Election Commission has also enacted an intricate regulatory scheme that further limits the opportunities for circumvention of the base limits through “unearmarked contributions to political committees likely to contribute” to a particular candidate. 424 U. S., at 38. In addition to accounting for such statutory and regulatory changes, appellants raise distinct legal arguments not considered in Buckley, including an overbreadth challenge to the aggregate limit. Pp. 10–14.

     (b) Significant First Amendment interests are implicated here. Contributing money to a candidate is an exercise of an individual’s right to participate in the electoral process through both political expression and political association. A restriction on how many candidates and committees an individual may support is hardly a “modest restraint” on those rights. The Government may no more restrict how many candidates or causes a donor may support than it may tell a newspaper how many candidates it may endorse. In its simplest terms, the aggregate limits prohibit an individual from fully contributing to the primary and general election campaigns of ten or more candidates, even if all contributions fall within the base limits. And it is no response to say that the individual can simply contribute less than the base limits permit: To require one person to contribute at lower levels because he wants to support more candidates or causes is to penalize that individual for “robustly exercis[ing]” his First Amendment rights. Davis v. Federal Election Comm’n, 554 U. S. 724 .

     In assessing the First Amendment interests at stake, the proper focus is on an individual’s right to engage in political speech, not a collective conception of the public good. The whole point of the First Amendment is to protect individual speech that the majority might prefer to restrict, or that legislators or judges might not view as useful to the democratic process. Pp. 14–18.

     (c) The aggregate limits do not further the permissible governmental interest in preventing quid pro quo corruption or its appearance. Pp. 18–36.

          (1) This Court has identified only one legitimate governmental interest for restricting campaign finances: preventing corruption or the appearance of corruption. See Davis, supra, at 741. Moreover, the only type of corruption that Congress may target is quid pro quo corruption. Spending large sums of money in connection with elections, but not in connection with an effort to control the exercise of an officeholder’s official duties, does not give rise to quid pro quo corruption. Nor does the possibility that an individual who spends large sums may garner “influence over or access to” elected officials or political parties. Citizens United v. Federal Election Comm’n, 558 U. S. 310 . The line between quid pro quo corruption and general influence must be respected in order to safeguard basic First Amendment rights, and the Court must “err on the side of protecting political speech rather than suppressing it.” Federal Election Comm’n v. Wisconsin Right to Life, 551 U. S. 449 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.). Pp. 18–21.

          (2) The Government argues that the aggregate limits further the permissible objective of preventing quid pro quo corruption. The difficulty is that once the aggregate limits kick in, they ban all contributions of any amount, even though Congress’s selection of a base limit indicates its belief that contributions beneath that amount do not create a cognizable risk of corruption. The Government must thus defend the aggregate limits by demonstrating that they prevent circumvention of the base limits, a function they do not serve in any meaningful way. Given the statutes and regulations currently in effect, Buckley’s fear that an individual might “contribute massive amounts of money to a particular candidate through . . . unearmarked contributions” to entities likely to support the candidate, 424 U. S., at 38, is far too speculative. Even accepting Buckley’s circumvention theory, it is hard to see how a candidate today could receive “massive amounts of money” that could be traced back to a particular donor uninhibited by the aggregate limits. The Government’s scenarios offered in support of that possibility are either illegal under current campaign finance laws or implausible. Pp. 21–30.

          (3) The aggregate limits also violate the First Amendment because they are not “closely drawn to avoid unnecessary abridgment of associational freedoms.” Buckley, supra, at 25. The Government argues that the aggregate limits prevent an individual from giving to too many initial recipients who might then recontribute a donation, but experience suggests that the vast majority of contributions are retained and spent by their recipients. And the Government has provided no reason to believe that candidates or party committees would dramatically shift their priorities if the aggregate limits were lifted. The indiscriminate ban on all contributions above the aggregate limits is thus disproportionate to the Government’s interest in preventing circumvention.

     Importantly, there are multiple alternatives available to Congress that would serve the Government’s interest in preventing circumvention while avoiding “unnecessary abridgment” of First Amendment rights. Buckley, supra, at 25. Such alternatives might include targeted restrictions on transfers among candidates and political committees, or tighter earmarking rules. Transfers, after all, are the key to the Government’s concern about circumvention, but they can be addressed without such a direct and broad interference with First Amendment rights. Pp. 30–35.

          (4) Disclosure of contributions also reduces the potential for abuse of the campaign finance system. Disclosure requirements, which are justified by “a governmental interest in ‘provid[ing] the electorate with information’ about the sources of election-related spending,” Citizens United, supra, at 367, may deter corruption “by exposing large contributions and expenditures to the light of publicity,” Buckley, supra at 67. Disclosure requirements may burden speech, but they often represent a less restrictive alternative to flat bans on certain types or quantities of speech. Particularly with modern technology, disclosure now offers more robust protections against corruption than it did when Buckley was decided. Pp. 35–36.

     (d) The Government offers an additional rationale for the aggregate limits, arguing that the opportunity for corruption exists whenever a legislator is given a large check, even if the check consists of contributions within the base limits to be divided among numerous candidates or committees. That rationale dangerously broadens the circumscribed definition of quid pro quo corruption articulated in prior cases. Buckley confined its analysis to the possibility that “massive amounts of money” could be funneled to a particular candidate in excess of the base limits. 424 U. S., at 38. Recasting as corruption a donor’s widely distributed support for a political party would dramatically expand government regulation of the political process. And though the Government suggests that solicitation of large contributions poses the corruption danger, the aggregate limits are not limited to any direct solicitation by an officeholder or candidate. Pp. 36–39.

     Justice Thomas agreed that the aggregate limits are invalid under the First Amendment, but would overrule Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 , and subject BCRA’s aggregate limits to strict scrutiny, which they would surely fail. Buckley’s “analytic foundation . . . was tenuous from the very beginning and has only continued to erode in the intervening years.” Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377 (Thomas, J., dissenting). Contributions and expenditures are simply “two sides of the same First Amendment coin,” and this Court’s efforts to distinguish the two have produced mere “word games” rather than any cognizable constitutional law principle. Buckley, supra, at 241, 244 (Burger, C. J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). Pp. 1–5.

     Roberts, C. J., announced the judgment of the Court and delivered an opinion, in which Scalia, Kennedy, and Alito, JJ., joined. Thomas, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment. Breyer, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Ginsburg, Sotomayor, and Kagan, JJ., joined.

 

Opinion

NOTICE: This opinion is subject to formal revision before publication in the preliminary print of the United States Reports. Readers are requested to notify the Reporter of Decisions, Supreme Court of the United States, Washington, D. C. 20543, of any typographical or other formal errors, in order that corrections may be made before the preliminary print goes to press.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

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No. 12–536

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SHAUN McCUTCHEON, et al., APPELLANTS v. FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

on appeal from the united states district court for the district of columbia

[April 2, 2014]

 

     Chief Justice Roberts announced the judgment of the Court and delivered an opinion, in which Justice Scalia, Justice Kennedy, and Justice Alito join.

     There is no right more basic in our democracy than the right to participate in electing our political leaders. Citizens can exercise that right in a variety of ways: They can run for office themselves, vote, urge others to vote for a particular candidate, volunteer to work on a campaign, and contribute to a candidate’s campaign. This case is about the last of those options.

     The right to participate in democracy through political contributions is protected by the First Amendment, but that right is not absolute. Our cases have held that Congress may regulate campaign contributions to protect against corruption or the appearance of corruption. See, e.g., Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 –27 (1976) (per curiam). At the same time, we have made clear that Congress may not regulate contributions simply to reduce the amount of money in politics, or to restrict the political participation of some in order to enhance the relative influence of others. See, e.g., Arizona Free Enterprise Club’s Freedom Club PAC v. Bennett, 564 U. S. ___, ___ (2011) (slip op., at 24–25).

     Many people might find those latter objectives attractive: They would be delighted to see fewer television commercials touting a candidate’s accomplishments or disparaging an opponent’s character. Money in politics may at times seem repugnant to some, but so too does much of what the First Amendment vigorously protects. If the First Amendment protects flag burning, funeral protests, and Nazi parades—despite the profound offense such spectacles cause—it surely protects political campaign speech despite popular opposition. See Texas v. Johnson, 491 U. S. 397 (1989) ; Snyder v. Phelps, 562 U. S. ___ (2011); National Socialist Party of America v. Skokie, 432 U. S. 43 (1977) (per curiam). Indeed, as we have emphasized, the First Amendment “has its fullest and most urgent application precisely to the conduct of campaigns for political office.” Monitor Patriot Co. v. Roy, 401 U. S. 265, 272 (1971) .

     In a series of cases over the past 40 years, we have spelled out how to draw the constitutional line between the permissible goal of avoiding corruption in the political process and the impermissible desire simply to limit political speech. We have said that government regulation may not target the general gratitude a candidate may feel toward those who support him or his allies, or the political access such support may afford. “Ingratiation and access . . . are not corruption.” Citizens United v. Federal Election Comm’n, 558 U. S. 310, 360 (2010) . They embody a central feature of democracy—that constituents support candidates who share their beliefs and interests, and candidates who are elected can be expected to be responsive to those concerns.

     Any regulation must instead target what we have called “quid pro quo” corruption or its appearance. See id., at 359. That Latin phrase captures the notion of a direct exchange of an official act for money. See McCormick v. United States, 500 U. S. 257, 266 (1991) . “The hallmark of corruption is the financial quid pro quo: dollars for po- litical favors.” Federal Election Comm’n v. National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S. 480, 497 (1985) . Campaign finance restrictions that pursue other objectives, we have explained, impermissibly inject the Government “into the debate over who should govern.” Bennett, supra, at ___ (slip op., at 25). And those who govern should be the last people to help decide who should govern.

     The statute at issue in this case imposes two types of limits on campaign contributions. The first, called base limits, restricts how much money a donor may contribute to a particular candidate or committee. 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(1). The second, called aggregate limits, restricts how much money a donor may contribute in total to all candidates or committees. §441a(a)(3).

     This case does not involve any challenge to the base limits, which we have previously upheld as serving the permissible objective of combatting corruption. The Government contends that the aggregate limits also serve that objective, by preventing circumvention of the base limits. We conclude, however, that the aggregate limits do little, if anything, to address that concern, while seriously restricting participation in the democratic process. The aggregate limits are therefore invalid under the First Amendment.

I

A

     For the 2013–2014 election cycle, the base limits in the Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (FECA), as amended by the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA), permit an individual to contribute up to $2,600 per election to a candidate ($5,200 total for the primary and general elections); $32,400 per year to a national party committee; [ 1 ] $10,000 per year to a state or local party committee; and $5,000 per year to a political action committee, or “PAC.” 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(1); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532 (2013). [ 2 ] A national committee, state or local party committee, or multicandidate PAC may in turn contribute up to $5,000 per election to a candidate. §441a(a)(2). [ 3 ]

     The base limits apply with equal force to contributions that are “in any way earmarked or otherwise directed through an intermediary or conduit” to a candidate. §441a(a)(8). If, for example, a donor gives money to a party committee but directs the party committee to pass the contribution along to a particular candidate, then the transaction is treated as a contribution from the original donor to the specified candidate.

     For the 2013–2014 election cycle, the aggregate limits in BCRA permit an individual to contribute a total of $48,600 to federal candidates and a total of $74,600 to other political committees. Of that $74,600, only $48,600 may be contributed to state or local party committees and PACs, as opposed to national party committees. §441a(a)(3); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532. All told, an individual may contribute up to $123,200 to candidate and noncandidate committees during each two-year election cycle.

     The base limits thus restrict how much money a donor may contribute to any particular candidate or committee; the aggregate limits have the effect of restricting how many candidates or committees the donor may support, to the extent permitted by the base limits.

B

     In the 2011–2012 election cycle, appellant Shaun McCutcheon contributed a total of $33,088 to 16 different federal candidates, in compliance with the base limits applicable to each. He alleges that he wished to contribute $1,776 to each of 12 additional candidates but was prevented from doing so by the aggregate limit on contributions to candidates. McCutcheon also contributed a total of $27,328 to several noncandidate political committees, in compliance with the base limits applicable to each. He alleges that he wished to contribute to various other political committees, including $25,000 to each of the three Republican national party committees, but was prevented from doing so by the aggregate limit on contributions to political committees. McCutcheon further alleges that he plans to make similar contributions in the future. In the 2013–2014 election cycle, he again wishes to contribute at least $60,000 to various candidates and $75,000 to non-candidate political committees. Brief for Appellant McCutcheon 11–12.

     Appellant Republican National Committee is a national political party committee charged with the general management of the Republican Party. The RNC wishes to receive the contributions that McCutcheon and similarly situated individuals would like to make—contributions otherwise permissible under the base limits for national party committees but foreclosed by the aggregate limit on contributions to political committees.

     In June 2012, McCutcheon and the RNC filed a complaint before a three-judge panel of the U. S. District Court for the District of Columbia. See BCRA §403(a), 116Stat. 113–114. McCutcheon and the RNC asserted that the aggregate limits on contributions to candidates and to noncandidate political committees were unconstitutional under the First Amendment. They moved for a preliminary injunction against enforcement of the challenged provisions, and the Government moved to dismiss the case.

     The three-judge District Court denied appellants’ motion for a preliminary injunction and granted the Government’s motion to dismiss. Assuming that the base limits appropriately served the Government’s anticorruption interest, the District Court concluded that the aggregate limits survived First Amendment scrutiny because they prevented evasion of the base limits. 893 F. Supp. 2d 133, 140 (2012).

     In particular, the District Court imagined a hypothetical scenario that might occur in a world without aggregate limits. A single donor might contribute the maximum amount under the base limits to nearly 50 separate committees, each of which might then transfer the money to the same single committee. Ibid. That committee, in turn, might use all the transferred money for coordinated expenditures on behalf of a particular candidate, allowing the single donor to circumvent the base limit on the amount he may contribute to that candidate. Ibid. The District Court acknowledged that “it may seem unlikely that so many separate entities would willingly serve as conduits” for the single donor’s interests, but it concluded that such a scenario “is not hard to imagine.” Ibid. It thus rejected a constitutional challenge to the aggregate limits, characterizing the base limits and the aggregate limits “as a coherent system rather than merely a collection of individual limits stacking prophylaxis upon prophylaxis.” Ibid.

     McCutcheon and the RNC appealed directly to this Court, as authorized by law. 28 U. S. C. §1253. In such a case, “we ha[ve] no discretion to refuse adjudication of the case on its merits,” Hicks v. Miranda, 422 U. S. 332, 344 (1975) , and accordingly we noted probable jurisdiction. 568 U. S. ___ (2013).

II

A

     Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 , presented this Court with its first opportunity to evaluate the constitutionality of the original contribution and expenditure limits set forth in FECA. FECA imposed a $1,000 per election base limit on contributions from an individual to a federal candidate. It also imposed a $25,000 per year aggregate limit on all contributions from an individual to candidates or political committees. 18 U. S. C. §§608(b)(1), 608(b)(3) (1970 ed., Supp. IV). On the expenditures side, FECA imposed limits on both independent expenditures and candidates’ overall campaign expenditures. §§608(e)(1), 608(c).

     Buckley recognized that “contribution and expenditure limitations operate in an area of the most fundamental First Amendment activities.” 424 U. S., at 14. But it distinguished expenditure limits from contribution limits based on the degree to which each encroaches upon protected First Amendment interests. Expenditure limits, the Court explained, “necessarily reduce[ ] the quantity of expression by restricting the number of issues discussed, the depth of their exploration, and the size of the audience reached.” Id., at 19. The Court thus subjected expenditure limits to “the exacting scrutiny applicable to lim- itations on core First Amendment rights of political expression.” Id., at 44–45. Under exacting scrutiny, the Government may regulate protected speech only if such regulation promotes a compelling interest and is the least restrictive means to further the articulated interest. See Sable Communications of Cal., Inc. v. FCC, 492 U. S. 115, 126 (1989) .

     By contrast, the Court concluded that contribution limits impose a lesser restraint on political speech because they “permit[ ] the symbolic expression of support evidenced by a contribution but do[ ] not in any way infringe the contributor’s freedom to discuss candidates and issues.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 21. As a result, the Court focused on the effect of the contribution limits on the freedom of political association and applied a lesser but still “rigorous standard of review.” Id., at 29. Under that standard, “[e]ven a ‘ “significant interference” with protected rights of political association’ may be sustained if the State demonstrates a sufficiently important interest and employs means closely drawn to avoid unnecessary abridgement of associational freedoms.” Id., at 25 (quoting Cousins v. Wigoda, 419 U. S. 477, 488 (1975) ).

     The primary purpose of FECA was to limit quid pro quo corruption and its appearance; that purpose satisfied the requirement of a “sufficiently important” governmental interest. 424 U. S., at 26–27. As for the “closely drawn” component, Buckley concluded that the $1,000 base limit “focuses precisely on the problem of large campaign contributions . . . while leaving persons free to engage in independent political expression, to associate actively through volunteering their services, and to assist to a limited but nonetheless substantial extent in supporting candidates and committees with financial resources.” Id., at 28. The Court therefore upheld the $1,000 base limit under the “closely drawn” test. Id., at 29.

     The Court next separately considered an overbreadth challenge to the base limit. See id., at 29–30. The challengers argued that the base limit was fatally overbroad because most large donors do not seek improper influence over legislators’ actions. Although the Court accepted that premise, it nevertheless rejected the overbreadth challenge for two reasons: First, it was too “difficult to isolate suspect contributions” based on a contributor’s subjective intent. Id., at 30. Second, “Congress was justified in concluding that the interest in safeguarding against the appearance of impropriety requires that the opportunity for abuse inherent in the process of raising large monetary contributions be eliminated.” Ibid.

     Finally, in one paragraph of its 139-page opinion, the Court turned to the $25,000 aggregate limit under FECA. As a preliminary matter, it noted that the constitution- ality of the aggregate limit “ha[d] not been separately addressed at length by the parties.” Id., at 38. Then, in three sentences, the Court disposed of any constitutional objections to the aggregate limit that the challengers might have had:

“The overall $25,000 ceiling does impose an ultimate restriction upon the number of candidates and committees with which an individual may associate himself by means of financial support. But this quite modest restraint upon protected political activity serves to prevent evasion of the $1,000 contribution limitation by a person who might otherwise contribute massive amounts of money to a particular candidate through the use of unearmarked contributions to political committees likely to contribute to that candidate, or huge contributions to the candidate’s political party. The limited, additional restriction on associational freedom imposed by the overall ceiling is thus no more than a corollary of the basic individual contribution limitation that we have found to be constitutionally valid.” Ibid.

B

1

     The parties and amici curiae spend significant energy debating whether the line that Buckley drew between contributions and expenditures should remain the law. Notwithstanding the robust debate, we see no need in this case to revisit Buckley’s distinction between contributions and expenditures and the corollary distinction in the applicable standards of review. Buckley held that the Government’s interest in preventing quid pro quo corruption or its appearance was “sufficiently important,” id., at 26–27; we have elsewhere stated that the same interest may properly be labeled “compelling,” see National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S., at 496–497, so that the interest would satisfy even strict scrutiny. Moreover, regardless whether we apply strict scrutiny or Buckley’s “closely drawn” test, we must assess the fit between the stated governmental objective and the means selected to achieve that objective. See, e.g., National Conservative Political Action Comm., supra, at 496–501; Randall v. Sorrell, 548 U. S. 230 –262 (2006) (opinion of Breyer, J.). Or to put it another way, if a law that restricts political speech does not “avoid unnecessary abridgement” of First Amendment rights, Buckley, 424 U. S., at 25, it cannot survive “rigorous” review.

     Because we find a substantial mismatch between the Government’s stated objective and the means selected to achieve it, the aggregate limits fail even under the “closely drawn” test. We therefore need not parse the differences between the two standards in this case.

2

     Buckley treated the constitutionality of the $25,000 aggregate limit as contingent upon that limit’s ability to prevent circumvention of the $1,000 base limit, describing the aggregate limit as “no more than a corollary” of the base limit. Id., at 38. The Court determined that circumvention could occur when an individual legally contributes “massive amounts of money to a particular candidate through the use of unearmarked contributions” to entities that are themselves likely to contribute to the candidate. Ibid. For that reason, the Court upheld the $25,000 aggregate limit.

     Although Buckley provides some guidance, we think that its ultimate conclusion about the constitutionality of the aggregate limit in place under FECA does not control here. Buckley spent a total of three sentences analyzing that limit; in fact, the opinion pointed out that the constitutionality of the aggregate limit “ha[d] not been separately addressed at length by the parties.” Ibid. We are now asked to address appellants’ direct challenge to the aggregate limits in place under BCRA. BCRA is a different statutory regime, and the aggregate limits it imposes operate against a distinct legal backdrop.

     Most notably, statutory safeguards against circumvention have been considerably strengthened since Buckley was decided, through both statutory additions and the introduction of a comprehensive regulatory scheme. With more targeted anticircumvention measures in place today, the indiscriminate aggregate limits under BCRA appear particularly heavy-handed.

     The 1976 FECA Amendments, for example, added another layer of base contribution limits. The 1974 version of FECA had already capped contributions from political committees to candidates, but the 1976 version added limits on contributions to political committees. This change was enacted at least “in part to prevent circumvention of the very limitations on contributions that this Court upheld in Buckley.” California Medical Assn. v. Federal Election Comm’n, 453 U. S. 182 –198 (1981) (plurality opinion); see also id., at 203 (Blackmun, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). Because a donor’s contributions to a political committee are now limited, a donor cannot flood the committee with “huge” amounts of money so that each contribution the committee makes is perceived as a contribution from him. Buckley, supra, at 38. Rather, the donor may contribute only $5,000 to the committee, which hardly raises the specter of abuse that concerned the Court in Buckley. Limits on contributions to political committees consequently create an additional hurdle for a donor who seeks both to channel a large amount of money to a particular candidate and to ensure that he gets the credit for doing so.

     The 1976 Amendments also added an antiprolifera- tion rule prohibiting donors from creating or controlling multiple affiliated political committees. See 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(5); 11 CFR §100.5(g)(4). The Government ac- knowledges that this antiproliferation rule “forecloses what would otherwise be a particularly easy and effective means of circumventing the limits on contributions to any particular political committee.” Brief for Appellee 46. In effect, the rule eliminates a donor’s ability to create and use his own political committees to direct funds in excess of the individual base limits. It thus blocks a straightforward method of achieving the circumvention that was the underlying concern in Buckley.

     The intricate regulatory scheme that the Federal Election Commission has enacted since Buckley further limits the opportunities for circumvention of the base limits via “unearmarked contributions to political committees likely to contribute” to a particular candidate. 424 U. S., at 38. Although the earmarking provision, 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(8), was in place when Buckley was decided, the FEC has since added regulations that define earmarking broadly. For example, the regulations construe earmarking to include any designation, “whether direct or indirect, express or implied, oral or written.” 11 CFR §110.6(b)(1). The regulations specify that an individual who has contributed to a particular candidate may not also contribute to a single-candidate committee for that candidate. §110.1(h)(1). Nor may an individual who has contributed to a candidate also contribute to a political committee that has supported or anticipates supporting the same candidate, if the individual knows that “a substantial portion [of his contribution] will be contributed to, or expended on behalf of,” that candidate. §110.1(h)(2).

     In addition to accounting for statutory and regulatory changes in the campaign finance arena, appellants’ challenge raises distinct legal arguments that Buckley did not consider. For example, presumably because of its cursory treatment of the $25,000 aggregate limit, Buckley did not separately address an overbreadth challenge with respect to that provision. The Court rejected such a challenge to the base limits because of the difficulty of isolating suspect contributions. The propriety of large contributions to in- dividual candidates turned on the subjective intent of donors, and the Court concluded that there was no way to tell which donors sought improper influence over legislators’ actions. See 424 U. S., at 30. The aggregate limit, on the other hand, was upheld as an anticircumvention measure, without considering whether it was possible to discern which donations might be used to circumvent the base limits. See id., at 38. The Court never addressed overbreadth in the specific context of aggregate limits, where such an argument has far more force.

     Given the foregoing, this case cannot be resolved merely by pointing to three sentences in Buckley that were written without the benefit of full briefing or argument on the issue. See Toucey v. New York Life Ins. Co., 314 U. S. 118 –140 (1941) (departing from “[l]oose language and a sporadic, ill-considered decision” when asked to resolve a question “with our eyes wide open and in the light of full consideration”); Hohn v. United States, 524 U. S. 236, 251 (1998) (departing from a prior decision where it “was rendered without full briefing or argument”). We are confronted with a different statute and different legal arguments, at a different point in the development of campaign finance regulation. Appellants’ sub- stantial First Amendment challenge to the system of aggregate limits currently in place thus merits our plenary consideration. [ 4 ]

III

     The First Amendment “is designed and intended to remove governmental restraints from the arena of public discussion, putting the decision as to what views shall be voiced largely into the hands of each of us, . . . in the belief that no other approach would comport with the premise of individual dignity and choice upon which our political system rests.” Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15, 24 (1971) . As relevant here, the First Amendment safeguards an individual’s right to participate in the public debate through political expression and political association. See Buckley, 424 U. S., at 15. When an individual contributes money to a candidate, he exercises both of those rights: The contribution “serves as a general expression of support for the candidate and his views” and “serves to affiliate a person with a candidate.” Id., at 21–22.

     Those First Amendment rights are important regardless whether the individual is, on the one hand, a “lone pamphleteer[ ] or street corner orator[ ] in the Tom Paine mold,” or is, on the other, someone who spends “substan-tial amounts of money in order to communicate [his] political ideas through sophisticated” means. National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S., at 493. Either way, he is participating in an electoral debate that we have recognized is “integral to the operation of the system of government established by our Constitution.” Buckley, supra, at 14.

     Buckley acknowledged that aggregate limits at least diminish an individual’s right of political association. As the Court explained, the “overall $25,000 ceiling does impose an ultimate restriction upon the number of candidates and committees with which an individual may associate himself by means of financial support.” 424 U. S., at 38. But the Court characterized that restriction as a “quite modest restraint upon protected political activity.” Ibid. We cannot agree with that characterization. An aggregate limit on how many candidates and committees an individual may support through contributions is not a “modest restraint” at all. The Government may no more restrict how many candidates or causes a donor may support than it may tell a newspaper how many candidates it may endorse.

     To put it in the simplest terms, the aggregate limits prohibit an individual from fully contributing to the primary and general election campaigns of ten or more candidates, even if all contributions fall within the base limits Congress views as adequate to protect against corruption. The individual may give up to $5,200 each to nine candidates, but the aggregate limits constitute an outright ban on further contributions to any other candidate (beyond the additional $1,800 that may be spent before reaching the $48,600 aggregate limit). At that point, the limits deny the individual all ability to exercise his expressive and associational rights by contributing to someone who will advocate for his policy preferences. A donor must limit the number of candidates he supports, and may have to choose which of several policy concerns he will advance—clear First Amendment harms that the dissent never acknowledges.

     It is no answer to say that the individual can simply contribute less money to more people. To require one person to contribute at lower levels than others because he wants to support more candidates or causes is to impose a special burden on broader participation in the democratic process. And as we have recently admonished, the Government may not penalize an individual for “robustly exercis[ing]” his First Amendment rights. Davis v. Federal Election Comm’n, 554 U. S. 724, 739 (2008) .

     The First Amendment burden is especially great for individuals who do not have ready access to alternative avenues for supporting their preferred politicians and policies. In the context of base contribution limits, Buckley observed that a supporter could vindicate his associational interests by personally volunteering his time and energy on behalf of a candidate. See 424 U. S., at 22, 28. Such personal volunteering is not a realistic alternative for those who wish to support a wide variety of candidates or causes. Other effective methods of supporting preferred candidates or causes without contributing money are reserved for a select few, such as entertainers capable of raising hundreds of thousands of dollars in a single evening. Cf. Davis, supra, at 742. [ 5 ]

     The dissent faults this focus on “the individual’s right to engage in political speech,” saying that it fails to take into account “the public’s interest” in “collective speech.” Post, at 6 (opinion of Breyer, J). This “collective” interest is said to promote “a government where laws reflect the very thoughts, views, ideas, and sentiments, the expression of which the First Amendment protects.” Post, at 7.

     But there are compelling reasons not to define the boundaries of the First Amendment by reference to such a generalized conception of the public good. First, the dissent’s “collective speech” reflected in laws is of course the will of the majority, and plainly can include laws that restrict free speech. The whole point of the First Amendment is to afford individuals protection against such infringements. The First Amendment does not protect the government, even when the government purports to act through legislation reflecting “collective speech.” Cf. United States v. Alvarez, 567 U. S. ___ (2012); Wooley v. Maynard, 430 U. S. 705 (1977) ; West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943) .

     Second, the degree to which speech is protected cannot turn on a legislative or judicial determination that particular speech is useful to the democratic process. The First Amendment does not contemplate such “ad hoc balancing of relative social costs and benefits.” United States v. Stevens, 559 U. S. 460, 470 (2010) ; see also United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U. S. 803, 818 (2000) (“What the Constitution says is that” value judgments “are for the individual to make, not for the Government to decree, even with the mandate or approval of a majority”).

     Third, our established First Amendment analysis already takes account of any “collective” interest that may justify restrictions on individual speech. Under that accepted analysis, such restrictions are measured against the asserted public interest (usually framed as an important or compelling governmental interest). As explained below, we do not doubt the compelling nature of the “collective” interest in preventing corruption in the electoral process. But we permit Congress to pursue that interest only so long as it does not unnecessarily infringe an individual’s right to freedom of speech; we do not truncate this tailoring test at the outset.

IV

A

     With the significant First Amendment costs for individual citizens in mind, we turn to the governmental interests asserted in this case. This Court has identified only one legitimate governmental interest for restricting campaign finances: preventing corruption or the appearance of corruption. See Davis, supra, at 741; National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S., at 496–497. We have consistently rejected attempts to suppress campaign speech based on other legislative objectives. No matter how desirable it may seem, it is not an acceptable governmental objective to “level the playing field,” or to “level electoral opportunities,” or to “equaliz[e] the financial resources of candidates.” Bennett, 564 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 22–23); Davis, supra, at 741–742; Buckley, supra, at 56. The First Amendment prohibits such legislative attempts to “fine-tun[e]” the electoral process, no matter how well intentioned. Bennett, supra, at ___ (slip op., at 21).

     As we framed the relevant principle in Buckley, “the concept that government may restrict the speech of some elements of our society in order to enhance the relative voice of others is wholly foreign to the First Amendment.” 424 U. S., at 48–49. The dissent’s suggestion that Buckley supports the opposite proposition, see post, at 6, simply ignores what Buckley actually said on the matter. See also Citizens Against Rent Control/Coalition for Fair Housing v. Berkeley, 454 U. S. 290, 295 (1981) (“Buckley . . . made clear that contributors cannot be protected from the possibility that others will make larger contributions”).

 

     Moreover, while preventing corruption or its appearance is a legitimate objective, Congress may target only a specific type of corruption—“quid pro quo” corruption. As Buckley explained, Congress may permissibly seek to rein in “large contributions [that] are given to secure a political quid pro quo from current and potential office holders.” 424 U. S., at 26. In addition to “actual quid pro quo arrangements,” Congress may permissibly limit “the ap- pearance of corruption stemming from public awareness of the opportunities for abuse inherent in a regime of large individual financial contributions” to particular candidates. Id., at 27; see also Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 359 (“When Buckley identified a sufficiently important governmental interest in preventing corruption or the appearance of corruption, that interest was limited to quid pro quo corruption”).

     Spending large sums of money in connection with elections, but not in connection with an effort to control the exercise of an officeholder’s official duties, does not give rise to such quid pro quo corruption. Nor does the possibility that an individual who spends large sums may garner “influence over or access to” elected officials or political parties. Id., at 359; see McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 540 U. S. 93, 297 (2003) (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). And because the Government’s interest in preventing the appearance of corruption is equally confined to the appearance of quid pro quo corruption, the Government may not seek to limit the appearance of mere influence or access. See Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 360.

     The dissent advocates a broader conception of corruption, and would apply the label to any individual contributions above limits deemed necessary to protect “collective speech.” Thus, under the dissent’s view, it is perfectly fine to contribute $5,200 to nine candidates but somehow corrupt to give the same amount to a tenth.

     It is fair to say, as Justice Stevens has, “that we have not always spoken about corruption in a clear or consistent voice.” Id., at 447 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part). The definition of corruption that we apply today, however, has firm roots in Buckley itself. The Court in that case upheld base contribution limits because they targeted “the danger of actual quid pro quo arrangements” and “the impact of the appearance of corruption stemming from public awareness” of such a system of unchecked direct contributions. 424 U. S., at 27. Buckley simultaneously rejected limits on spending that was less likely to “be given as a quid pro quo for improper commitments from the candidate.” Id., at 47. In any event, this case is not the first in which the debate over the proper breadth of the Government’s anticorruption interest has been engaged. Compare Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 356–361 (majority opinion), with id., at 447–460 (opinion of Stevens, J.).

     The line between quid pro quo corruption and general influence may seem vague at times, but the distinction must be respected in order to safeguard basic First Amendment rights. In addition, “[i]n drawing that line, the First Amendment requires us to err on the side of protecting political speech rather than suppressing it.” Federal Election Comm’n v. Wisconsin Right to Life, 551 U. S. 449, 457 (2007) (opinion of Roberts, C. J.).

     The dissent laments that our opinion leaves only remnants of FECA and BCRA that are inadequate to combat corruption. See post, at 2. Such rhetoric ignores the fact that we leave the base limits undisturbed. [ 6 ] Those base limits remain the primary means of regulating campaign contributions—the obvious explanation for why the aggregate limits received a scant few sentences of attention in Buckley. [ 7 ]

B

     “When the Government restricts speech, the Government bears the burden of proving the constitutionality of its actions.” United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc., 529 U. S., at 816. Here, the Government seeks to carry that burden by arguing that the aggregate limits further the permissible objective of preventing quid pro quo corruption.

     The difficulty is that once the aggregate limits kick in, they ban all contributions of any amount. But Congress’s selection of a $5,200 base limit indicates its belief that contributions of that amount or less do not create a cognizable risk of corruption. If there is no corruption concern in giving nine candidates up to $5,200 each, it is difficult to understand how a tenth candidate can be regarded as corruptible if given $1,801, and all others corruptible if given a dime. And if there is no risk that additional candidates will be corrupted by donations of up to $5,200, then the Government must defend the aggregate limits by demonstrating that they prevent circumvention of the base limits.

     The problem is that they do not serve that function in any meaningful way. In light of the various statutes and regulations currently in effect, Buckley’s fear that an individual might “contribute massive amounts of money to a particular candidate through the use of unearmarked contributions” to entities likely to support the candi- date, 424 U. S., at 38, is far too speculative. And—importantly—we “have never accepted mere conjecture as adequate to carry a First Amendment burden.” Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377, 392 (2000) .

     As an initial matter, there is not the same risk of quid pro quo corruption or its appearance when money flows through independent actors to a candidate, as when a donor contributes to a candidate directly. When an individual contributes to a candidate, a party committee, or a PAC, the individual must by law cede control over the funds. See 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(8); 11 CFR §110.6. The Government admits that if the funds are subsequently re-routed to a particular candidate, such action occurs at the initial recipient’s discretion—not the donor’s. See Brief for Appellee 37. As a consequence, the chain of attribution grows longer, and any credit must be shared among the various actors along the way. For those reasons, the risk of quid pro quo corruption is generally applicable only to “the narrow category of money gifts that are directed, in some manner, to a candidate or officeholder.” McConnell, 540 U. S., at 310 (opinion of Kennedy, J.).

     Buckley nonetheless focused on the possibility that “unearmarked contributions” could eventually find their way to a candidate’s coffers. 424 U. S., at 38. Even ac-cepting the validity of Buckley’s circumvention theory, it is hard to see how a candidate today could receive a “massive amount[ ] of money” that could be traced back to a particular contributor uninhibited by the aggregate limits. Ibid. The Government offers a series of scenarios in support of that possibility. But each is sufficiently implausible that the Government has not carried its burden of demonstrating that the aggregate limits further its anticircumvention interest.

     The primary example of circumvention, in one form or another, envisions an individual donor who contributes the maximum amount under the base limits to a particular candidate, say, Representative Smith. Then the donor also channels “massive amounts of money” to Smith through a series of contributions to PACs that have stated their intention to support Smith. See, e.g., Brief for Appellee 35–37; Tr. of Oral Arg. 4, 6.

     Various earmarking and antiproliferation rules disarm this example. Importantly, the donor may not contribute to the most obvious PACs: those that support only Smith. See 11 CFR §110.1(h)(1); see also §102.14(a). Nor may the donor contribute to the slightly less obvious PACs that he knows will route “a substantial portion” of his contribution to Smith. §110.1(h)(2).

     The donor must instead turn to other PACs that are likely to give to Smith. When he does so, however, he discovers that his contribution will be significantly diluted by all the contributions from others to the same PACs. After all, the donor cannot give more than $5,000 to a PAC and so cannot dominate the PAC’s total receipts, as he could when Buckley was decided. 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(1)(C). He cannot retain control over his contribution, 11 CFR §110.1(h)(3), direct his money “in any way” to Smith, 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(8), or even imply that he would like his money to be recontributed to Smith, 11 CFR §110.6(b)(1). His salience as a Smith supporter has been diminished, and with it the potential for corruption.

     It is not clear how many candidates a PAC must support before our dedicated donor can avoid being tagged with the impermissible knowledge that “a substantial portion” of his contribution will go to Smith. But imagine that the donor is one of ten equal donors to a PAC that gives the highest possible contribution to Smith. [ 8 ] The PAC may give no more than $2,600 per election to Smith. Of that sum, just $260 will be attributable to the donor intent on circumventing the base limits. Thus far he has hardly succeeded in funneling “massive amounts of money” to Smith. Buckley, supra, at 38.

     But what if this donor does the same thing via, say, 100 different PACs? His $260 contribution will balloon to $26,000, ten times what he may contribute directly to Smith in any given election.

     This 100-PAC scenario is highly implausible. In the first instance, it is not true that the individual donor will necessarily have access to a sufficient number of PACs to effectuate such a scheme. There are many PACs, but they are not limitless. For the 2012 election cycle, the FEC reported about 2,700 nonconnected PACs (excluding PACs that finance independent expenditures only). And not every PAC that supports Smith will work in this scheme: For our donor’s pro rata share of a PAC’s contribution to Smith to remain meaningful, the PAC must be funded by only a small handful of donors. The antiproliferation rules, which were not in effect when Buckley was decided, prohibit our donor from creating 100 pro-Smith PACs of his own, or collaborating with the nine other donors to do so. See 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(5) (“all contributions made by political committees established or financed or maintained or controlled by . . . any other person, or by any group of such persons, shall be considered to have been made by a single political committee”).

     Moreover, if 100 PACs were to contribute to Smith and few other candidates, and if specific individuals like our ardent Smith supporter were to contribute to each, the FEC could weigh those “circumstantial factors” to determine whether to deem the PACs affiliated. 11 CFR §100.5(g)(4)(ii). The FEC’s analysis could take account of a “common or overlapping membership” and “similar patterns of contributions or contributors,” among other considerations. §§100.5(g)(4)(ii)(D), (J). The FEC has in the past initiated enforcement proceedings against contributors with such suspicious patterns of PAC donations. See, e.g., Conciliation Agreement, In re Riley, Matters Under Review 4568, 4633, 4634, 4736 (FEC, Dec. 19, 2001).

     On a more basic level, it is hard to believe that a rational actor would engage in such machinations. In the example described, a dedicated donor spent $500,000—donating the full $5,000 to 100 different PACs—to add just $26,000 to Smith’s campaign coffers. That same donor, meanwhile, could have spent unlimited funds on independent expenditures on behalf of Smith. See Buckley, 424 U. S., at 44–51. Indeed, he could have spent his entire $500,000 advocating for Smith, without the risk that his selected PACs would choose not to give to Smith, or that he would have to share credit with other contributors to the PACs.

     We have said in the context of independent expenditures that “ ‘[t]he absence of prearrangement and coordination of an expenditure with the candidate or his agent . . . undermines the value of the expenditure to the candidate.’ ” Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 357 (quoting Buckley, supra, at 47). But probably not by 95 percent. And at least from the donor’s point of view, it strikes us as far more likely that he will want to see his full $500,000 spent on behalf of his favored candidate—even if it must be spent independently—rather than see it diluted to a small fraction so that it can be contributed directly by someone else. [ 9 ]

     Another circumvention example is the one that apparently motivated the District Court. As the District Court crafted the example, a donor gives a $500,000 check to a joint fundraising committee composed of a candidate, a national party committee, and “most of the party’s state party committees” (actually, 47 of the 50). 893 F. Supp. 2d, at 140. The committees divide up the money so that each one receives the maximum contribution permissible under the base limits, but then each transfers its allocated portion to the same single committee. That committee uses the money for coordinated expenditures on behalf of a particular candidate. If that scenario “seem[s] unlikely,” the District Court thought so, too. Ibid. But because the District Court could “imagine” that chain of events, it held that the example substantiated the Government’s circumvention concerns. Ibid.

     One problem, however, is that the District Court’s speculation relies on illegal earmarking. Lest there be any confusion, a joint fundraising committee is simply a mechanism for individual committees to raise funds collectively, not to circumvent base limits or earmarking rules. See 11 CFR §102.17(c)(5). Under no circumstances may a contribution to a joint fundraising committee result in an allocation that exceeds the contribution limits applicable to its constituent parts; the committee is in fact required to return any excess funds to the contributor. See §102.17(c)(6)(i).

     The District Court assumed compliance with the specific allocation rules governing joint fundraising committees, but it expressly based its example on the premise that the donor would telegraph his desire to support one candidate and that “many separate entities would willingly serve as conduits for a single contributor’s interests.” 893 F. Supp. 2d, at 140. Regardless whether so many distinct entities would cooperate as a practical matter, the earmarking provision prohibits an individual from directing funds “through an intermediary or conduit” to a particular candidate. 2 U. S. C. §441a(8). Even the “implicit[ ]” agreement imagined by the District Court, 893 F. Supp. 2d, at 140, would trigger the earmarking provision. See 11 CFR §110.6(b)(1). So this circumvention scenario could not succeed without assuming that nearly 50 separate party committees would engage in a transparent violation of the earmarking rules (and that they would not be caught if they did).

     Moreover, the District Court failed to acknowledge that its $500,000 example cannot apply to most candidates. It crafted the example around a presidential candidate, for whom donations in the thousands of dollars may not seem remarkable—especially in comparison to the nearly $1.4 billion spent by the 2012 presidential candidates. The same example cannot, however, be extrapolated to most House and Senate candidates. Like contributions, coordinated expenditures are limited by statute, with different limits based on the State and the office. See 2 U. S. C. §441a(d)(3). The 2013 coordinated expenditure limit for most House races is $46,600, well below the $500,000 in coordinated expenditures envisioned by the District Court. The limit for Senate races varies significantly based on state population. See 78 Fed. Reg. 8531 (2013). A scheme of the magnitude imagined by the District Court would be possible even in theory for no House candidates and the Senate candidates from just the 12 most populous States. Ibid.

     Further, to the extent that the law does not foreclose the scenario described by the District Court, experience and common sense do. The Government provides no reason to believe that many state parties would willingly participate in a scheme to funnel money to another State’s candidates. A review of FEC data of Republican and Democratic state party committees for the 2012 election cycle reveals just 12 total instances in which a state party committee contributed to a House or Senate candidate in another State. No surprise there. The Iowa Democratic Party, for example, has little reason to transfer money to the California Democratic Party, especially when the Iowa Democratic Party would be barred for the remainder of the election cycle from receiving another contribution for its own activities from the particular donor.

     These scenarios, along with others that have been suggested, are either illegal under current campaign finance laws or divorced from reality. The three examples posed by the dissent are no exception. The dissent does not explain how the large sums it postulates can be legally rerouted to a particular candidate, why most state committees would participate in a plan to redirect their donations to a candidate in another State, or how a donor or group of donors can avoid regulations prohibiting con- tributions to a committee “with the knowledge that a substantial portion” of the contribution will support a candidate to whom the donor has already contributed, 11 CFR §110.1(h)(2).

     The dissent argues that such knowledge may be difficult to prove, pointing to eight FEC cases that did not proceed because of insufficient evidence of a donor’s incriminating knowledge. See post, at 24–25. It might be that such guilty knowledge could not be shown because the donors were not guilty—a possibility that the dissent does not entertain. In any event, the donors described in those eight cases were typically alleged to have exceeded the base limits by $5,000 or less. The FEC’s failure to find the requisite knowledge in those cases hardly means that the agency will be equally powerless to prevent a scheme in which a donor routes millions of dollars in excess of the base limits to a particular candidate, as in the dissent’s “Example Two.” And if an FEC official cannot establish knowledge of circumvention (or establish affiliation) when the same ten donors contribute $10,000 each to 200 newly created PACs, and each PAC writes a $10,000 check to the same ten candidates—the dissent’s “Example Three”—then that official has not a heart but a head of stone. See post, at 19–20, 25.

     The dissent concludes by citing three briefs for the proposition that, even with the aggregate limits in place, individuals “have transferred large sums of money to specific candidates” in excess of the base limits. Post, at 26. But the cited sources do not provide any real-world examples of circumvention of the base limits along the lines of the various hypotheticals. The dearth of FEC prosecutions, according to the dissent, proves only that people are getting away with it. And the violations that surely must be out there elude detection “because in the real world, the methods of achieving circumvention are more subtle and more complex” than the hypothetical examples. Ibid. This sort of speculation, however, cannot justify the substantial intrusion on First Amendment rights at issue in this case.

     Buckley upheld aggregate limits only on the ground that they prevented channeling money to candidates beyond the base limits. The absence of such a prospect today belies the Government’s asserted objective of preventing corruption or its appearance. The improbability of circumvention indicates that the aggregate limits instead further the impermissible objective of simply limiting the amount of money in political campaigns.

C

     Quite apart from the foregoing, the aggregate limits violate the First Amendment because they are not “closely drawn to avoid unnecessary abridgment of associational freedoms.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 25. In the First Amendment context, fit matters. Even when the Court is not applying strict scrutiny, we still require “a fit that is not necessarily perfect, but reasonable; that represents not necessarily the single best disposition but one whose scope is ‘in proportion to the interest served,’ . . . that employs not necessarily the least restrictive means but . . . a means narrowly tailored to achieve the desired objective.” Board of Trustees of State Univ. of N. Y. v. Fox, 492 U. S. 469, 480 (1989) (quoting In re R. M. J., 455 U. S. 191, 203 (1982) ). Here, because the statute is poorly tailored to the Government’s interest in preventing circumvention of the base limits, it impermissibly restricts participation in the political process.

1

     The Government argues that the aggregate limits are justified because they prevent an individual from giving to too many initial recipients who might subsequently recontribute a donation. After all, only recontributed funds can conceivably give rise to circumvention of the base limits. Yet all indications are that many types of recipients have scant interest in regifting donations they receive.

     Some figures might be useful to put the risk of circumvention in perspective. We recognize that no data can be marshaled to capture perfectly the counterfactual world in which aggregate limits do not exist. But, as we have noted elsewhere, we can nonetheless ask “whether experience under the present law confirms a serious threat of abuse.” Federal Election Comm’n v. Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm., 533 U. S. 431, 457 (2001) . It does not. Experience suggests that the vast majority of contri- butions made in excess of the aggregate limits are likely to be retained and spent by their recipients rather than rerouted to candidates.

     In the 2012 election cycle, federal candidates, political parties, and PACs spent a total of $7 billion, according to the FEC. In particular, each national political party’s spending ran in the hundreds of millions of dollars. The National Republican Senatorial Committee (NRSC), National Republican Congressional Committee (NRCC), Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee (DSCC), and Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee (DCCC), however, spent less than $1 million each on direct candidate contributions and less than $10 million each on coordinated expenditures. Brief for NRSC et al. as Amici Curiae 23, 25 (NRSC Brief). Including both coordinated expenditures and direct candidate contributions, the NRSC and DSCC spent just 7% of their total funds on contributions to candidates and the NRCC and DCCC spent just 3%.

     Likewise, as explained previously, state parties rarely contribute to candidates in other States. In the 2012 election cycle, the Republican and Democratic state party committees in all 50 States (and the District of Columbia) contributed a paltry $17,750 to House and Senate candidates in other States. The state party committees spent over half a billion dollars over the same time period, of which the $17,750 in contributions to other States’ candidates constituted just 0.003%.

     As with national and state party committees, candidates contribute only a small fraction of their campaign funds to other candidates. Authorized candidate committees may support other candidates up to a $2,000 base limit. 2 U. S. C. §432(e)(3)(B). In the 2012 election, House candidates spent a total of $1.1 billion. Candidate-to-candidate contributions among House candidates totaled $3.65 million, making up just 0.3% of candidates’ overall spending. NRSC Brief 29. The most that any one individual candidate received from all other candidates was around $100,000. Brief for Appellee 39. The fact is that candidates who receive campaign contributions spend most of the money on themselves, rather than passing along donations to other candidates. In this arena at least, charity begins at home. [ 10 ]

     Based on what we can discern from experience, the indiscriminate ban on all contributions above the aggregate limits is disproportionate to the Government’s interest in preventing circumvention. The Government has not given us any reason to believe that parties or candidates would dramatically shift their priorities if the aggregate limits were lifted. Absent such a showing, we cannot conclude that the sweeping aggregate limits are appropriately tailored to guard against any contributions that might implicate the Government’s anticircumvention interest.

     A final point: It is worth keeping in mind that the base limits themselves are a prophylactic measure. As we have explained, “restrictions on direct contributions are preventative, because few if any contributions to candidates will involve quid pro quo arrangements.” Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 357. The aggregate limits are then layered on top, ostensibly to prevent circumvention of the base limits. This “prophylaxis-upon-prophylaxis approach” requires that we be particularly diligent in scrutinizing the law’s fit. Wisconsin Right to Life, 551 U. S., at 479 (opinion of Roberts, C. J.); see McConnell, 540 U. S., at 268–269 (opinion of Thomas, J.).

2

     Importantly, there are multiple alternatives available to Congress that would serve the Government’s anticircumvention interest, while avoiding “unnecessary abridgment” of First Amendment rights. Buckley, 424 U. S., at 25.

     The most obvious might involve targeted restrictions on transfers among candidates and political committees. There are currently no such limits on transfers among party committees and from candidates to party committees. See 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(4); 11 CFR §113.2(c). Perhaps for that reason, a central concern of the District Court, the Government, multiple amici curiae, and the dissent has been the ability of party committees to transfer money freely. If Congress agrees that this is problematic, it might tighten its permissive transfer rules. Doing so would impose a lesser burden on First Amendment rights, as compared to aggregate limits that flatly ban contributions beyond certain levels. And while the Government has not conceded that transfer restrictions would be a perfect substitute for the aggregate limits, it has recognized that they would mitigate the risk of circumvention. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 29.

     One possible option for restricting transfers would be to require contributions above the current aggregate limits to be deposited into segregated, nontransferable accounts and spent only by their recipients. Such a solution would address the same circumvention possibilities as the current aggregate limits, while not completely barring contributions beyond the aggregate levels. In addition (or as an alternative), if Congress believes that circumvention is especially likely to occur through creation of a joint fundraising committee, it could require that funds received through those committees be spent by their recipients (or perhaps it could simply limit the size of joint fundraising committees). Such alternatives to the aggregate limits properly refocus the inquiry on the delinquent actor: the recipient of a contribution within the base limits, who then routes the money in a manner that undermines those limits. See Citizens United, supra, at 360–361; cf. Bartnicki v. Vopper, 532 U. S. 514 –530 (2001).

     Indeed, Congress has adopted transfer restrictions, and the Court has upheld them, in the context of state party spending. See 2 U. S. C. §441i(b). So-called “Levin funds” are donations permissible under state law that may be spent on certain federal election activity—namely, voter registration and identification, get-out-the-vote efforts, or generic campaign activities. Levin funds are raised directly by the state or local party committee that ultimately spends them. §441i(b)(2)(B)(iv). That means that other party committees may not transfer Levin funds, solicit Levin funds on behalf of the particular state or local committee, or engage in joint fundraising of Levin funds. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 171–173. McConnell upheld those transfer restrictions as “justifiable anticircumvention measures,” though it acknowledged that they posed some associational burdens. Id., at 171. Here, a narrow transfer restriction on contributions that could otherwise be recontributed in excess of the base limits could rely on a similar justification.

     Other alternatives might focus on earmarking. Many of the scenarios that the Government and the dissent hy-pothesize involve at least implicit agreements to circumvent the base limits—agreements that are already prohibited by the earmarking rules. See 11 CFR §110.6. The FEC might strengthen those rules further by, for exam- ple, defining how many candidates a PAC must support in order to ensure that “a substantial portion” of a do- nor’s contribution is not rerouted to a certain candidate. §110.1(h)(2). Congress might also consider a modified version of the aggregate limits, such as one that prohibits donors who have contributed the current maximum sums from further contributing to political committees that have indicated they will support candidates to whom the donor has already contributed. To be sure, the existing earmarking provision does not define “the outer limit of accept- able tailoring.” Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm., 533 U. S., at 462. But tighter rules could have a significant effect, especially when adopted in concert with other measures.

     We do not mean to opine on the validity of any particular proposal. The point is that there are numerous al- ternative approaches available to Congress to prevent circumvention of the base limits.

D

     Finally, disclosure of contributions minimizes the potential for abuse of the campaign finance system. Disclosure requirements are in part “justified based on a governmental interest in ‘provid[ing] the electorate with information’ about the sources of election-related spending.” Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 367 (quoting Buckley, supra, at 66). They may also “deter actual corruption and avoid the appearance of corruption by exposing large contributions and expenditures to the light of publicity.” Id., at 67. Disclosure requirements burden speech, but—unlike the aggregate limits—they do not impose a ceiling on speech. Citizens United, supra, at 366; but see McConnell, supra, at 275–277 (opinion of Thomas, J.). For that reason, disclosure often represents a less restrictive alternative to flat bans on certain types or quantities of speech. See, e.g., Federal Election Comm’n v. Massachusetts Citizens for Life, Inc., 479 U. S. 238, 262 (1986) .

     With modern technology, disclosure now offers a particularly effective means of arming the voting public with information. In 1976, the Court observed that Congress could regard disclosure as “only a partial measure.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 28. That perception was understandable in a world in which information about campaign contributions was filed at FEC offices and was therefore virtually inaccessible to the average member of the public. See Brief for Cause of Action Institute as Amicus Curiae 15–16. Today, given the Internet, disclosure offers much more robust protections against corruption. See Citizens United, supra, at 370–371. Reports and databases are availa- ble on the FEC’s Web site almost immediately after they are filed, supplemented by private entities such as OpenSecrets.org and FollowTheMoney.org. Because massive quantities of information can be accessed at the click of a mouse, disclosure is effective to a degree not possible at the time Buckley, or even McConnell, was decided.

     The existing aggregate limits may in fact encourage the movement of money away from entities subject to dis-closure. Because individuals’ direct contributions are limited, would-be donors may turn to other avenues for political speech. See Citizens United, supra, at 364. Individuals can, for example, contribute unlimited amounts to 501(c) organizations, which are not required to publicly disclose their donors. See 26 U. S. C. §6104(d)(3). Such organizations spent some $300 million on independent expenditures in the 2012 election cycle.

V

     At oral argument, the Government shifted its focus from Buckley’s anticircumvention rationale to an argument that the aggregate limits deter corruption regardless of their ability to prevent circumvention of the base limits. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 29–30, 50–52. The Government argued that there is an opportunity for corruption whenever a large check is given to a legislator, even if the check consists of contributions within the base limits to be appropriately divided among numerous candidates and committees. The aggregate limits, the argument goes, ensure that the check amount does not become too large. That new rationale for the aggregate limits—embraced by the dissent, see post, at 15–17—does not wash. It dangerously broadens the circumscribed definition of quid pro quo corruption articu- lated in our prior cases, and targets as corruption the general, broad-based support of a political party.

     In analyzing the base limits, Buckley made clear that the risk of corruption arises when an individual makes large contributions to the candidate or officeholder himself. See 424 U. S., at 26–27. Buckley’s analysis of the aggregate limit under FECA was similarly confined. The Court noted that the aggregate limit guarded against an individual’s funneling—through circumvention—“massive amounts of money to a particular candidate.” Id., at 38 (emphasis added). We have reiterated that understanding several times. See, e.g., National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S., at 497 (quid pro quo corruption occurs when “[e]lected officials are influenced to act contrary to their obligations of office by the prospect of financial gain to themselves or infusions of money into their campaigns” (emphasis added)); Citizens Against Rent Control/Coalition for Fair Housing v. Berkeley, 454 U. S. 290, 297 (1981) (Buckley’s holding that contribution limits are permissible “relates to the perception of undue influence of large contributors to a candidate”); McConnell, 540 U. S., at 296 (opinion of Kennedy, J.) (quid pro quo corruption in Buckley involved “contributions that flowed to a particular candidate’s benefit” (emphasis added)).

     Of course a candidate would be pleased with a donor who contributed not only to the candidate himself, but also to other candidates from the same party, to party committees, and to PACs supporting the party. But there is a clear, administrable line between money beyond the base limits funneled in an identifiable way to a candidate—for which the candidate feels obligated—and money within the base limits given widely to a candidate’s party—for which the candidate, like all other members of the party, feels grateful.

     When donors furnish widely distributed support within all applicable base limits, all members of the party or supporters of the cause may benefit, and the leaders of the party or cause may feel particular gratitude. That gratitude stems from the basic nature of the party system, in which party members join together to further common political beliefs, and citizens can choose to support a party because they share some, most, or all of those beliefs. See Tashjian v. Republican Party of Conn., 479 U. S. 208 –216 (1986). To recast such shared interest, standing alone, as an opportunity for quid pro quo corruption would dramatically expand government regulation of the political process. Cf. California Democratic Party v. Jones, 530 U. S. 567 –573 (2000) (recognizing the Government’s “role to play in structuring and monitoring the election process,” but rejecting “the proposition that party affairs are public affairs, free of First Amendment protections”).

     The Government suggests that it is the solicitation of large contributions that poses the danger of corruption, see Tr. of Oral Arg. 29–30, 38–39, 50–51; see also post, at 15–16, 20, but the aggregate limits are not limited to any direct solicitation by an officeholder or candidate. Cf. McConnell, supra, at 298–299, 308 (opinion of Kennedy, J.) (rejecting a ban on “soft money” contributions to national parties, but approving a ban on the solicitation of such contributions as “a direct and necessary regulation of federal candidates’ and officeholders’ receipt of quids”). We have no occasion to consider a law that would specifically ban candidates from soliciting donations—within the base limits—that would go to many other candidates, and would add up to a large sum. For our purposes here, it is enough that the aggregate limits at issue are not directed specifically to candidate behavior.

*  *  *

     For the past 40 years, our campaign finance jurisprudence has focused on the need to preserve authority for the Government to combat corruption, without at the same time compromising the political responsiveness at the heart of the democratic process, or allowing the Government to favor some participants in that process over others. As Edmund Burke explained in his famous speech to the electors of Bristol, a representative owes constituents the exercise of his “mature judgment,” but judgment informed by “the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents.” The Speeches of the Right Hon. Edmund Burke 129–130 (J. Burke ed. 1867). Constituents have the right to support candidates who share their views and concerns. Representatives are not to follow constituent orders, but can be expected to be cognizant of and responsive to those concerns. Such responsiveness is key to the very concept of self-governance through elected officials.

     The Government has a strong interest, no less critical to our democratic system, in combatting corruption and its appearance. We have, however, held that this interest must be limited to a specific kind of corruption—quid pro quo corruption—in order to ensure that the Government’s efforts do not have the effect of restricting the First Amendment right of citizens to choose who shall govern them. For the reasons set forth, we conclude that the aggregate limits on contributions do not further the only governmental interest this Court accepted as legitimate in Buckley. They instead intrude without justification on a citizen’s ability to exercise “the most fundamental First Amendment activities.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 14.

     The judgment of the District Court is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings.

It is so ordered.

Notes

1  There are six authorized national party committees: the Republican National Committee, the Democratic National Committee, the National Republican Senatorial Committee, the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee, the National Republican Congressional Committee, and the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. See .
2  A PAC is a business, labor, or interest group that raises or spends money in connection with a federal election, in some cases by contributing to candidates. A so-called “Super PAC” is a PAC that makes only independent expenditures and cannot contribute to candidates. The base and aggregate limits govern contributions to traditional PACs, but not to independent expenditure PACs. See SpeechNow.org v. Federal Election Comm’n, 599 F. 3d 686, 695–696 (CADC 2010) (en banc).
3  A multicandidate PAC is a PAC with more than 50 contributors that has been registered for at least six months and has made contributions to five or more candidates for federal office. 11 CFR §100.5(e)(3) (2012). PACs that do not qualify as multicandidate PACs must abide by the base limit applicable to individual contributions.
4  The dissent contends that we should remand for development of an evidentiary record before answering the question with which we were presented. See post, at 28–30 (opinion of Breyer, J). But the parties have treated the question as a purely legal one, and the Government has insisted that the aggregate limits can be upheld under the existing record alone. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 43, 55–56. We take the case as it comes to us.
5  See, e.g., Felsenthal, Obama Attends Fundraiser Hosted by Jay-Z, Beyonce, Reuters, Sept. 18, 2012; Coleman, Kid Rock Supports Paul Ryan at Campaign Fundraiser, Rolling Stone, Aug. 25, 2012; Mason, Robert Duvall to Host Romney Fundraiser, L. A. Times, July 25, 2012; Piazza, Hillary Lands 2.5M with Rocket Man, N. Y. Daily News, Apr. 10, 2008, p. 2.
6  The fact that this opinion does not address the base limits also belies the dissent’s concern that we have silently overruled the Court’s holding in McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, . See post, at 12–13. At issue in McConnell was BCRA’s extension of the base limits to so-called “soft money”—previously unregulated contributions to national party committees. See 540 U. S., at 142; see also post, at 31–38 (appendix A to opinion of Breyer, J.) (excerpts from McConnell record discussing unregulated “soft money”). Our holding about the constitutionality of the aggregate limits clearly does not overrule McConnell’s holding about “soft money.”
7  It would be especially odd to regard aggregate limits as essential to enforce base limits when state campaign finance schemes typically include base limits but not aggregate limits. Just eight of the 38 States that have imposed base limits on contributions from individuals to candidates have also imposed aggregate limits (excluding restrictions on a specific subset of donors). See Conn. Gen. Stat. §9–611(c) (2013); Me. Rev. Stat. Ann., Tit. 21–A, §1015(3) (Supp. 2013); Md. Elec. Law Code Ann. §13–226(b) (Lexis Supp. 2013); Mass. Gen. Laws, ch. 55, §7A(a)(5) (West 2012); N. Y. Elec. Law Ann. §14–114(8) (West Supp. 2013); R. I. Gen. Laws §17–25–10.1(a)(1) (Lexis 2013); Wis. Stat. §11.26(4) (2007–2008); Wyo. Stat. Ann. §22–25–102(c)(ii) (2013). The Government presents no evidence concerning the circumvention of base limits from the 30 States with base limits but no aggregate limits.
8  Even those premises are generous because they assume that the donor contributes to non-multicandidate PACs, which are relatively rare. Multicandidate PACs, by contrast, must have more than 50 contributors. 11 CFR §100.5(e)(3). The more contributors, of course, the more the donor’s share in any eventual contribution to Smith is diluted.
9  The Justice Department agrees. As Acting Assistant Attorney General Mythili Raman recently testified before Congress: “We anticipate seeing fewer cases of conduit contributions directly to campaign committees or parties, because individuals or corporations who wish to influence elections or officials will no longer need to attempt to do so through conduit contribution schemes that can be criminally prosecuted. Instead, they are likely to simply make unlimited contributions to Super PACs or 501(c)s.” Hearing on Current Issues in Campaign Finance Law Enforcement before the Subcommittee on Crime and Terrorism of the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, 113th Cong., 1st Sess., 3 (2013).
10  In addition, the percentage of contributions above the aggregate limits that even could be used for circumvention is limited by the fact that many of the modes of potential circumvention can be used only once each election. For example, if one donor gives $2,600 to 100 candidates with safe House seats in the hopes that each candidate will reroute $2,000 to Representative Smith, a candidate in a contested district, no other donor can do the same, because the candidates in the safe seats will have exhausted their permissible contributions to Smith. So there is no risk that the circumvention scheme will repeat itself with multiple other would-be donors to Smith.
 

Concurrence

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

No. 12–536

_________________

SHAUN McCUTCHEON, et al., APPELLANTS v. FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

on appeal from the united states district court for the district of columbia

[April 2, 2014]

 

     Justice Thomas, concurring in the judgment.

     I adhere to the view that this Court’s decision in Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 (1976) (per curiam), denigrates core First Amendment speech and should be overruled. See Randall v. Sorrell, 548 U. S. 230 –267 (2006) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment); Federal Election Comm’n v. Beaumont, 539 U. S. 146 –165 (2003) (Thomas, J., dissenting); Federal Election Comm’n v. Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm., 533 U. S. 431 –466 (2001) (Colorado II) (Thomas, J., dissenting); Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377 –420 (2000) (Thomas, J., dissenting); Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm. v. Federal Election Comm’n, 518 U. S. 604 –640 (1996) (Colorado I ) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment and dissenting in part).

     Political speech is “ ‘the primary object of First Amendment protection’ ” and “the lifeblood of a self-governing people.” Colorado II, supra, at 465–466 (Thomas, J., dissenting). Contributions to political campaigns, no less than direct expenditures, “generate essential political speech” by fostering discussion of public issues and can- didate qualifications. Shrink Missouri, supra, at 412 (Thomas, J., dissenting); see also id., at 410–411. Buckley itself recognized that both contribution and expenditure limits “operate in an area of the most fundamental First Amendment activities” and “implicate fundamental First Amendment interests.” 424 U. S., at 14, 23. But instead of treating political giving and political spending alike, Buckley distinguished the two, embracing a bifurcated standard of review under which contribution limits receive less rigorous scrutiny. Id., at 25.

     As I have explained before, “[t]he analytic foundation of Buckley . . . was tenuous from the very beginning and has only continued to erode in the intervening years.” Shrink Missouri, supra, at 412 (Thomas, J., dissenting). To justify a lesser standard of review for contribution limits, Buckley relied on the premise that contributions are different in kind from direct expenditures. None of the Court’s bases for that premise withstands careful review. The linchpin of the Court’s analysis was its assertion that “[w]hile contributions may result in political expression if spent by a candidate or an association to present views to the voters, the transformation of contributions into political debate involves speech by someone other than the contributor.” 424 U. S., at 21. But that “ ‘speech by proxy’ ” rationale quickly breaks down, given that “[e]ven in the case of a direct expenditure, there is usually some go-between that facilitates the dissemination of the spender’s message—for instance, an advertising agency or a television station.” Colorado I, supra, at 638–639 (opinion of Thomas, J.). Moreover, we have since rejected the “ ‘proxy speech’ ” approach as affording insufficient First Amendment protection to “the voices of those of modest means as opposed to those sufficiently wealthy to be able to buy expensive media ads with their own resources.” Federal Election Comm’n v. National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S. 480, 495 (1985) ; see Shrink Missouri, supra, at 413–414 (Thomas, J., dissenting).

     The remaining justifications Buckley provided are also flawed. For example, Buckley claimed that contribution limits entail only a “marginal” speech restriction because “[a] contribution serves as a general expression of support for the candidate and his views, but does not communicate the underlying basis for the support.” 424 U. S., at 20, 21. But this Court has never required a speaker to explain the reasons for his position in order to obtain full First Amendment protection. Instead, we have consistently held that speech is protected even “when the underlying basis for a position is not given.” Shrink Missouri, supra, at 415, n. 3 (Thomas, J., dissenting); see, e.g., City of Ladue v. Gilleo, 512 U. S. 43, 46 (1994) (sign reading “For Peace in the Gulf”); Texas v. Johnson, 491 U. S. 397 –416 (1989) (flag burning); Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503 –511 (1969) (black armband signifying opposition to Vietnam War); see also Colorado I, supra, at 640 (opinion of Thomas, J.) (“Even a pure message of support, unadorned with reasons, is valuable to the democratic process”)

     Equally unpersuasive is Buckley’s suggestion that contribution limits warrant less stringent review because “[t]he quantity of communication by the contributor does not increase perceptibly with the size of his contribution,” and “[a]t most, the size of the contribution provides a very rough index of the intensity of the contributor’s support for the candidate.” 424 U. S., at 21. Contributions do in- crease the quantity of communication by “amplifying the voice of the candidate” and “help[ing] to ensure the dissemination of the messages that the contributor wishes to convey.” Shrink Missouri, supra, at 415 (Thomas, J., dissenting). They also serve as a quantifiable metric of the intensity of a particular contributor’s support, as demonstrated by the frequent practice of giving different amounts to different candidates. Buckley simply failed to recognize that “we have accorded full First Amendment protection to expressions of intensity.” Id., at 415, n. 3; see also Cohen v. California, 403 U. S. 15 –26 (1971) (protecting the use of an obscenity for emphasis).

     Although today’s decision represents a faithful application of our precedents, the plurality’s discussion of Buckley omits any reference to these discarded rationales. Instead, the plurality alludes only to Buckley’s last remaining reason for devaluing political contributions relative to expenditures. See ante, at 8 (quoting Buckley, 424 U. S., at 21). The relevant sentence from Buckley reads as follows:

“A limitation on the amount of money a person may give to a candidate or campaign organization thus involves little direct restraint on his political commu- nication, for it permits the symbolic expression of support evidenced by a contribution but does not in any way infringe the contributor’s freedom to discuss candidates and issues.” Ibid.

That proposition, read in full, cannot be squared with a key premise of today’s decision.

     Among the Government’s justifications for the aggregate limits set forth in the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA) is that “an individual can engage in the ‘symbolic act of contributing’ to as many entities as he wishes.” Brief for Appellee 20. That is, the Government contends that aggregate limits are constitutional as long as an individual can still contribute some token amount (a dime, for example) to each of his preferred candidates. The plurality, quite correctly, rejects that argument, noting that “[i]t is no answer to say that the individual can simply contribute less money to more people.” Ante, at 16. That is so because “[t]o require one person to contribute at lower levels than others because he wants to support more candidates or causes is to impose a special burden on broader participation in the democratic process.” Ibid.

     What the plurality does not recognize is that the same logic also defeats the reasoning from Buckley on which the plurality purports to rely. Under the plurality’s analysis, limiting the amount of money a person may give to a candidate does impose a direct restraint on his political communication; if it did not, the aggregate limits at issue here would not create “a special burden on broader participation in the democratic process.” Ibid. I am wholly in agreement with the plurality’s conclusion on this point: “[T]he Government may not penalize an individual for ‘robustly exercis[ing]’ his First Amendment rights.” Ibid. (quoting Davis v. Federal Election Comm’n, 554 U. S. 724, 739 (2008) ). I regret only that the plurality does not acknowledge that today’s decision, although purporting not to overrule Buckley, continues to chip away at its footings.

     In sum, what remains of Buckley is a rule without a rationale. Contributions and expenditures are simply “two sides of the same First Amendment coin,” and our ef- forts to distinguish the two have produced mere “word games” rather than any cognizable principle of constitutional law. Buckley, supra, at 241, 244 (Burger, C. J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). For that reason, I would overrule Buckley and subject the aggregate limits in BCRA to strict scrutiny, which they would surely fail. See Colorado I, 518 U. S., at 640–641 (opinion of Thomas, J.) (“I am convinced that under traditional strict scrutiny, broad prophylactic caps on both spending and giving in the political process . . . are unconstitutional”).

     This case represents yet another missed opportunity to right the course of our campaign finance jurisprudence by restoring a standard that is faithful to the First Amendment. Until we undertake that reexamination, we remain in a “halfway house” of our own design. Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 410 (Kennedy, J., dissenting). For these reasons, I concur only in the judgment.

 

Dissent

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

No. 12–536

_________________

SHAUN McCUTCHEON, et al., APPELLANTS v. FEDERAL ELECTION COMMISSION

on appeal from the united states district court for the district of columbia

[April 2, 2014]

     Justice Breyer, with whom Justice Ginsburg, Justice Sotomayor, and Justice Kagan join, dissenting.

     Nearly 40 years ago in Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 (1976) (per curiam), this Court considered the constitutionality of laws that imposed limits upon the overall amount a single person can contribute to all federal candidates, political parties, and committees taken together. The Court held that those limits did not violate the Constitution. Id., at 38; accord, McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n, 540 U. S. 93 , n. 40, 152–153, n. 48 (2003) (citing with approval Buckley’s aggregate limits holding).

     The Buckley Court focused upon the same problem that concerns the Court today, and it wrote:

“The overall $25,000 ceiling does impose an ultimate restriction upon the number of candidates and committees with which an individual may associate himself by means of financial support. But this quite modest restraint upon protected political activity serves to prevent evasion of the $1,000 contribution limitation by a person who might otherwise contribute massive amounts of money to a particular candidate through the use of unearmarked contributions to political committees likely to contribute to that candidate, or huge contributions to the candidate’s political party. The limited, additional restriction on associa-tional freedom imposed by the overall ceiling is thus no more than a corollary of the basic individual contribution limitation that we have found to be constitutionally valid.” 424 U. S., at 38.

     Today a majority of the Court overrules this holding. It is wrong to do so. Its conclusion rests upon its own, not a record-based, view of the facts. Its legal analysis is faulty: It misconstrues the nature of the competing constitutional interests at stake. It understates the importance of protecting the political integrity of our governmental insti- tutions. It creates a loophole that will allow a single individual to contribute millions of dollars to a political party or to a candidate’s campaign. Taken together with Citizens United v. Federal Election Comm’n, 558 U. S. 310 (2010) , today’s decision eviscerates our Nation’s campaign finance laws, leaving a remnant incapable of dealing with the grave problems of democratic legitimacy that those laws were intended to resolve.

I

     The plurality concludes that the aggregate contribution limits “ ‘unnecessar[ily] abridg[e]’ ” First Amendment rights. Ante, at 8, 30 (quoting Buckley, supra, at 25). It notes that some individuals will wish to “spen[d] ‘substantial amounts of money in order to communicate [their] political ideas through sophisticated’ means.” Ante, at 14–15 (quoting Federal Election Comm’n v. National Conservative Political Action Comm., 470 U. S. 480, 493 (1985) (NCPAC)). Aggregate contribution ceilings limit an individual’s ability to engage in such “broader participation in the democratic process,” while insufficiently advancing any legitimate governmental objective. Ante, at 16, 21–29. Hence, the plurality finds, they violate the Constitution.

     The plurality’s conclusion rests upon three separate but related claims. Each is fatally flawed. First, the plurality says that given the base limits on contributions to candi-dates and political committees, aggregate limits do not further any independent governmental objective worthy of protection. And that is because, given the base limits, “[s]pending large sums of money in connection with elections” does not “give rise to . . . corruption.” Ante, at 19. In making this argument, the plurality relies heavily upon a narrow definition of “corruption” that excludes efforts to obtain “ ‘influence over or access to’ elected officials or political parties. ” Ibid. (quoting Citizens United, supra, at 359); accord, ante, at 18–20, 22–29.

     Second, the plurality assesses the instrumental objective of the aggregate limits, namely, safeguarding the base limits. It finds that they “do not serve that function in any meaningful way.” Ante, at 22.  That is because, even without the aggregate limits, the possibilities for circumventing the base limits are “implausible” and “divorced from reality.” Ante, at 23, 24, 28.

     Third, the plurality says the aggregate limits are not a “ ‘reasonable’ ” policy tool. Rather, they are “poorly tailored to the Government’s interest in preventing circumvention of the base limits.” Ante, at 30 (quoting Board of Trustees of State Univ. of N. Y. v. Fox, 492 U. S. 469, 480 (1989) ). The plurality imagines several alternative regulations that it says might just as effectively thwart circumvention. Accordingly, it finds, the aggregate caps are out of “ ‘proportion to the [anticorruption] interest served.’ ” Ante, at 30 (quoting Fox, supra, at 480).

II

     The plurality’s first claim—that large aggregate contributions do not “give rise” to “corruption”—is plausible only because the plurality defines “corruption” too narrowly. The plurality describes the constitutionally permissible objective of campaign finance regulation as follows: “Congress may target only a specific type of corruption—‘quid pro quo’ corruption.” Ante, at 19. It then defines quid pro quo corruption to mean no more than “a direct exchange of an official act for money”—an act akin to bribery. Ante, at 2–3. It adds specifically that corruption does not include efforts to “garner ‘influence over or access to’ elected officials or political parties.” Ante, at 19 (quoting Citizens United, supra, at 359). Moreover, the Government’s efforts to prevent the “appearance of corruption” are “equally confined to the appearance of quid pro quo corruption,” as narrowly defined. Ante, at 19. In the plurality’s view, a federal statute could not prevent an individual from writing a million dollar check to a political party (by donating to its various committees), because the rationale for any limit would “dangerously broade[n] the circumscribed definition of quid pro quo corruption articulated in our prior cases.” Ante, at 37.

     This critically important definition of “corruption” is inconsistent with the Court’s prior case law (with the possible exception of Citizens United, as I will explain below). It is virtually impossible to reconcile with this Court’s decision in McConnell, upholding the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA). And it misun- derstands the constitutional importance of the interests at stake. In fact, constitutional interests—indeed, First Amendment interests—lie on both sides of the legal equation.

A

     In reality, as the history of campaign finance reform shows and as our earlier cases on the subject have recognized, the anticorruption interest that drives Congress to regulate campaign contributions is a far broader, more important interest than the plurality acknowledges. It is an interest in maintaining the integrity of our public governmental institutions. And it is an interest rooted in the Constitution and in the First Amendment itself.

     Consider at least one reason why the First Amendment protects political speech. Speech does not exist in a vac- uum. Rather, political communication seeks to secure government action. A politically oriented “marketplace of ideas” seeks to form a public opinion that can and will influence elected representatives.

     This is not a new idea. Eighty-seven years ago, Justice Brandeis wrote that the First Amendment’s protection of speech was “essential to effective democracy.” Whitney v. California, 274 U. S. 357, 377 (1927) (concurring opinion). Chief Justice Hughes reiterated the same idea shortly thereafter: “A fundamental principle of our constitutional system” is the “maintenance of the opportunity for free political discussion to the end that government may be responsive to the will of the people.” Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359, 369 (1931) (emphasis added). In Citizens United, the Court stated that “[s]peech is an essential mechanism of democracy, for it is the means to hold officials accountable to the people.” 558 U. S., at 339 (emphasis added).

     The Framers had good reason to emphasize this same connection between political speech and governmental action. An influential 18th-century continental philosopher had argued that in a representative democracy, the people lose control of their representatives between elections, during which interim periods they were “in chains.” J. Rousseau, An Inquiry Into the Nature of the Social Contract 265–266 (transl. 1791).

     The Framers responded to this criticism both by requiring frequent elections to federal office, and by enacting a First Amendment that would facilitate a “chain of communication between the people, and those, to whom they have committed the exercise of the powers of government.” J. Wilson, Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States of America 30–31 (1792). This “chain” would establish the necessary “communion of interests and sympathy of sentiments” between the people and their representatives, so that public opinion could be channeled into effective governmental action. The Federalist No. 57, p. 386 (J. Cooke ed. 1961) (J. Madison); accord, T. Benton, 1 Abridgement of the Debates of Congress, from 1789 to 1856, p. 141 (1857) (explaining that the First Amendment will strengthen American democracy by giving “ ‘the people’ ” a right to “ ‘publicly address their representatives,’ ” “ ‘privately advise them,’ ” or “ ‘declare their sentiments by petition to the whole body’ ” (quoting James Madison)). Accordingly, the First Amendment advances not only the individual’s right to engage in political speech, but also the public’s interest in preserving a democratic order in which collective speech matters.

     What has this to do with corruption? It has everything to do with corruption. Corruption breaks the constitutionally necessary “chain of communication” between the people and their representatives. It derails the essential speech-to-government-action tie. Where enough money calls the tune, the general public will not be heard. Insofar as corruption cuts the link between political thought and political action, a free marketplace of political ideas loses its point. That is one reason why the Court has stressed the constitutional importance of Congress’ concern that a few large donations not drown out the voices of the many. See, e.g., Buckley, 424 U. S., at 26–27.

     That is also why the Court has used the phrase “subversion of the political process” to describe circumstances in which “[e]lected officials are influenced to act contrary to their obligations of office by the prospect of financial gain to themselves or infusions of money into their campaigns.” NCPAC, 470 U. S., at 497. See also Federal Election Comm’n v. National Right to Work Comm., 459 U. S. 197, 208 (1982) (the Government’s interests in preventing corruption “directly implicate the integrity of our electoral process” (internal quotation marks and citation omitted)). See generally R. Post, Citizens Divided: Campaign Fi-nance Reform and the Constitution 7–16, 80–94 (forthcoming 2014) (arguing that the efficacy of American democ- racy depends on “electoral integrity” and the responsiveness of public officials to public opinion).

     The “appearance of corruption” can make matters worse. It can lead the public to believe that its efforts to communicate with its representatives or to help sway public opinion have little purpose. And a cynical public can lose interest in political participation altogether. See Nixon v. Shrink Missouri Government PAC, 528 U. S. 377, 390 (2000) (“[T]he cynical assumption that large donors call the tune could jeopardize the willingness of voters to take part in democratic governance”). Democracy, the Court has often said, cannot work unless “the people have faith in those who govern.” United States v. Mississippi Valley Generating Co., 364 U. S. 520, 562 (1961) .

     The upshot is that the interests the Court has long described as preventing “corruption” or the “appearance of corruption” are more than ordinary factors to be weighed against the constitutional right to political speech. Rather, they are interests rooted in the First Amendment it- self. They are rooted in the constitutional effort to create a democracy responsive to the people—a government where laws reflect the very thoughts, views, ideas, and sentiments, the expression of which the First Amendment protects. Given that end, we can and should understand campaign finance laws as resting upon a broader and more significant constitutional rationale than the plural- ity’s limited definition of “corruption” suggests. We should see these laws as seeking in significant part to strengthen, rather than weaken, the First Amendment. To say this is not to deny the potential for conflict between (1) the need to permit contributions that pay for the diffusion of ideas, and (2) the need to limit payments in order to help maintain the integrity of the electoral process. But that conflict takes place within, not outside, the First Amendment’s boundaries.

B

     Since the kinds of corruption that can destroy the link between public opinion and governmental action extend well beyond those the plurality describes, the plurality’s notion of corruption is flatly inconsistent with the basic constitutional rationale I have just described. Thus, it should surprise no one that this Court’s case law (Citizens United excepted) insists upon a considerably broader definition.

     In Buckley, for instance, the Court said explicitly that aggregate limits were constitutional because they helped “prevent evasion . . . [through] huge contributions to the candidate’s political party,” 424 U. S., at 26 (the contrary to what the plurality today seems to believe, see ante, at 36–39). Moreover, Buckley upheld the base limits in significant part because they helped thwart “the appearance of corruption stemming from public awareness of the opportunities for abuse inherent in a regime of large individual financial contributions.” 424 U. S., at 27 (emphasis added). And it said that Congress could reasonably conclude that criminal laws forbidding “the giving and taking of bribes” did not adequately “deal with the reality or appearance of corruption.” Id., at 28. Bribery laws, the Court recognized, address “only the most blatant and specific attempts of those with money to influence governmental action.” Ibid. The concern with corruption extends further.

     Other cases put the matter yet more strongly. In Beaumont, for example, the Court found constitutional a ban on direct contributions by corporations because of the need to prevent corruption, properly “understood not only as quid pro quo agreements, but also as undue influence on an officeholder’s judgment.” Federal Election Comm’n v. Beaumont, 539 U. S. 146 –156 (2003). In Federal Election Comm’n v. Colorado Republican Federal Campaign Comm., 533 U. S. 431 –460 (2001) (Colo- rado II ), the Court upheld limits imposed upon coordinated expenditures among parties and candidates because it found they thwarted corruption and its appearance, again understood as including “undue influence” by wealthy donors. In Shrink Missouri, the Court upheld limitations imposed by the Missouri Legislature upon contributions to state political candidates, not only because of the need to prevent bribery, but also because of “the broader threat from politicians too compliant with the wishes of large contributors.” 528 U. S., at 389.

C

     Most important, in McConnell, this Court considered the constitutionality of the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002, an Act that set new limits on “soft money” contributions to political parties. “Soft money” referred to funds that, prior to BCRA, were freely donated to parties for activities other than directly helping elect a federal candidate—activities such as voter registration, “get out the vote” drives, and advertising that did not expressly advocate a federal candidate’s election or defeat. 540 U. S., at 122–124. BCRA imposed a new ban on soft money contributions to national party committees, and greatly curtailed them in respect to state and local parties. Id., at 133–134, 161–164.

     The Court in McConnell upheld these new contribution restrictions under the First Amendment for the very reason the plurality today discounts or ignores. Namely, the Court found they thwarted a significant risk of cor- ruption—understood not as quid pro quo bribery, but as privileged access to and pernicious influence upon elected representatives.

     In reaching its conclusion in McConnell, the Court relied upon a vast record compiled in the District Court. That record consisted of over 100,000 pages of material and included testimony from more than 200 witnesses. See 251 F. Supp. 2d 176, 209 (DC 2003) (per curiam). What it showed, in detail, was the web of relationships and un- derstandings among parties, candidates, and large donors that underlies privileged access and influence. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 146–152, 154–157, 167–171, 182–184. The District Judges in McConnell made clear that the record did “not contain any evidence of bribery or vote buying in exchange for donations of nonfederal money.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 481 (opinion of Kollar-Kotelly, J.) (emphasis added). Indeed, no one had identified a “single discrete instance of quid pro quo corruption” due to soft money. Id., at 395 (opinion of Henderson, J.). But what the record did demonstrate was that enormous soft money contributions, ranging between $1 million and $5 million among the largest donors, enabled wealthy contributors to gain disproportionate “access to federal lawmakers” and the ability to “influenc[e] legislation.” Id., at 481 (opinion of Kollar-Kotelly, J.). There was an indisputable link between generous political donations and opportunity after opportunity to make one’s case directly to a Member of Congress.

     Testimony by elected officials supported this conclusion. See, e.g., ibid. (“ ‘Large donors of both hard and soft money receive special treatment’ ” (Sen. Simpson)); id., at 482 (“ ‘Donations, including soft money donations to political parties, do affect how Congress operates. It’s only natural, and happens all too often, that a busy Senator with 10 minutes to spare will spend those minutes returning the call of a large soft money donor’ ” (Sen. Boren)); id., at 496 (“ ‘At a minimum, large soft money donations purchase an opportunity for the donors to make their case to elected officials . . .’ ” (Sen. McCain)). Furthermore, testimony from party operatives showed that national political parties had created “major donor programs,” through which they openly “offer[ed] greater access to federal office holders as the donations gr[e]w larger.” Id., at 502. I have placed in Appendix A more examples of the kind of evidence that filled the District Court record in McConnell.

     This Court upheld BCRA’s limitations on soft money contributions by relying on just the kind of evidence I have described. We wrote:

“The evidence in the record shows that candidates and donors alike have in fact exploited the soft-money loophole, the former to increase their prospects of election and the latter to create debt on the part of officeholders . . . . Plaintiffs argue that without concrete evidence of an instance in which a federal officeholder has actually switched a vote [in exchange for soft money] . . . , Congress has not shown that there exists real or apparent corruption. . . . [P]laintiffs conceive of corruption too narrowly. Our cases have firmly established that Congress’ legitimate interest extends beyond preventing simple cash-for-votes corruption to curbing ‘undue influence on an officeholder’s judgment, and the appearance of such influence.’ ” 540 U. S., at 146, 149–150 (quoting Colorado II, 533 U. S., at 441; emphasis added; paragraphs and paragraph breaks omitted).

We specifically rejected efforts to define “corruption” in ways similar to those the plurality today accepts. We added:

“Just as troubling to a functioning democracy as classic quid pro quo corruption is the danger that officeholders will decide issues not on the merits or the desires of their constituencies, but according to the wishes of those who have made large financial contributions valued by the officeholder.” 540 U. S., at 153.

Insofar as today’s decision sets forth a significantly nar-rower definition of “corruption,” and hence of the public’s interest in political integrity, it is flatly inconsistent with McConnell.

D

     One case, however, contains language that offers the plurality support. That case is Citizens United. There, as the plurality points out, ante, at 19, the Court said that “[w]hen Buckley identified a sufficiently important governmental interest in preventing corruption or the appearance of corruption, that interest was limited to quid pro quo corruption.” 558 U. S., at 359. Further, the Court said that quid pro quo corruption does not include “influence over or access to elected officials,” because “ ‘generic favoritism or influence theory . . . is at odds with standard First Amendment analyses.’ ” Ibid. (quoting McConnell, supra, at 296 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part)).

     How should we treat these statements from Citizens United now? They are not essential to the Court’s holding in the case—at least insofar as it can be read to require federal law to treat corporations and trade unions like individuals when they independently pay for, e.g., television advertising during the last 60 days of a federal election. Citizens United, supra, at 365. Taken literally, the statements cited simply refer to and characterize still-earlier Court cases. They do not require the more absolute reading that the plurality here gives them.

     More than that. Read as the plurality reads them today, the statements from Citizens United about the proper contours of the corruption rationale conflict not just with language in the McConnell opinion, but with McConnell’s very holding. See supra, at 9–11. Did the Court in Citizens United intend to overrule McConnell? I doubt it, for if it did, the Court or certainly the dissent would have said something about it. The total silence of all opinions in Citizens United with respect to this matter argues strongly in favor of treating the language quoted above as dic- tum, as an overstatement, or as limited to the context in which it appears. Citizens United itself contains language that supports the last mentioned reading, for it says that “[Buckley] did not extend this rationale [about the reality or appearance of corruption] to independent expenditures, and the Court does not do so here.” 558 U. S., at 357 (emphasis added). And it adds that, while “[t]he BCRA record establishes that certain donations to political parties, called ‘soft money,’ were made to gain access to elected officials,” “[t]his case, however, is about independent expenditures, not soft money.” Id., at 360–361 (emphasis added).

     The plurality’s use of Citizens United’s narrow definition of corruption here, however, is a different matter. That use does not come accompanied with a limiting context (independent expenditures by corporations and unions) or limiting language. It applies to the whole of campaign finance regulation. And, as I have pointed out, it is flatly inconsistent with the broader definition of corruption upon which McConnell’s holding depends.

     So: Does the Court intend today to overrule McConnell? Or does it intend to leave McConnell and BCRA in place? The plurality says the latter. Ante, at 20–21, n. 6 (“Our holding about the constitutionality of the aggregate limits clearly does not overrule McConnell’s holding about ‘soft money’ ”). But how does the plurality explain its rejection of the broader definition of corruption, upon which McConnell’s holding depends? Compare ante, at 18–21, with McConnell, 540 U. S., at 146, 149–153.

III

     The plurality invalidates the aggregate contribution limits for a second reason. It believes they are no longer needed to prevent contributors from circumventing federal limits on direct contributions to individuals, political parties, and political action committees. Ante, at 22–29. Cf. Buckley, 424 U. S., at 38 (aggregate limits “prevent evasion” of base contribution limits). Other “campaign finance laws,” combined with “experience” and “common sense,” foreclose the various circumvention scenarios that the Government hypothesizes. Ante, at 28. Accordingly, the plurality concludes, the aggregate limits provide no added benefit.

     The plurality is wrong. Here, as in Buckley, in the absence of limits on aggregate political contributions, donors can and likely will find ways to channel millions of dollars to parties and to individual candidates, producing precisely the kind of “corruption” or “appearance of corruption” that previously led the Court to hold aggregate limits constitutional. Those opportunities for circumvention will also produce the type of corruption that concerns the plurality today. The methods for using today’s opinion to evade the law’s individual contribution limits are complex, but they are well known, or will become well known, to party fundraisers. I shall describe three.

A

     Example One: Gifts for the Benefit of the Party. Campaign finance law permits each individual to give $64,800 over two years to a national party committee. 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(1)(B); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532 (2013). The two major political parties each have three national committees. Ante, at 4, n. 1. Federal law also entitles an individual to give $20,000 to a state party committee over two years. §441a(a)(1)(D). Each major political party has 50 such committees. Those individual limits mean that, in the absence of any aggregate limit, an individual could legally give to the Republican Party or to the Democratic Party about $1.2 million over two years. See Appendix B, Table 1, infra, at 39. To make it easier for contributors to give gifts of this size, each party could create a “Joint Party Committee,” comprising all of its national and state party committees. The titular heads could be the Speaker of the House of Representatives and the Minority Leader of the House. A contributor could then write a single check to the Joint Party Committee—and its staff would divide the funds so that each constituent unit receives no more than it could obtain from the contributor directly ($64,800 for a national committee over two years, $20,000 for a state committee over the same). Before today’s decision, the total size of Rich Donor’s check to the Joint Party Committee was capped at $74,600—the aggregate limit for donations to political parties over a 2-year election cycle. See §441a(a)(3)(B); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532. After today’s decision, Rich Donor can write a single check to the Joint Party Committee in an amount of about $1.2 million.

     Will political parties seek these large checks? Why not? The recipient national and state committees can spend the money to buy generic party advertisements, say television commercials or bumper stickers saying “Support Republicans,” “Support Democrats,” or the like. They also can transfer the money to party committees in battleground States to increase the chances of winning hotly contested seats. See §441a(a)(4) (permitting national or state po- litical committees to make unlimited “transfers” to other committees “of the same political party”).

     Will party officials and candidates solicit these large contributions from wealthy donors? Absolutely. Such con- tributions will help increase the party’s power, as well as the candidate’s standing among his colleagues.

     Will elected officials be particularly grateful to the large donor, feeling obliged to provide him special access and influence, and perhaps even a quid pro quo legislative favor? That is what we have previously believed. See McConnell, 540 U. S., at 182 (“Large soft-money donations at a candidate’s or officeholder’s behest give rise to all of the same corruption concerns posed by contributions made directly to the candidate or officeholder”); id., at 308 (opinion of Kennedy, J.) (“The making of a solicited gift is a quid both to the recipient of the money and to the one who solicits the payment”); Colorado II, 533 U. S., at 460, n. 23 (explaining how a candidate can “become a player [in his party] beyond his own race” by “directing donations to the party and making sure that the party knows who raised the money,” and that “the donor’s influence is multiplied” in such instances). And, as the statements collected in Appendix A, infra, make clear, we have believed this with good reason.

     Example Two: Donations to Individual Candidates (The $3.6 Million Check). The first example significantly understates the problem. That is because federal election law also allows a single contributor to give $5,200 to each party candidate over a 2-year election cycle (assuming the candidate is running in both a primary and a general election). §441a(a)(1)(A); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532. There are 435 party candidates for House seats and 33 party candidates for Senate seats in any given election year. That makes an additional $2.4 million in allowable contributions. Thus, without an aggregate limit, the law will permit a wealthy individual to write a check, over a 2-year election cycle, for $3.6 million—all to benefit his political party and its candidates. See Appendix B, Table 2(a), infra, at 39.

     To make it easier for a wealthy donor to make a contribution of this size, the parties can simply enlarge the composition of the Joint Party Committee described in Example One, so that it now includes party candidates. And a party can proliferate such joint entities, perhaps calling the first the “Smith Victory Committee,” the second the “Jones Victory Committee,” and the like. See 11 CFR §102.17(c)(5) (2012). (I say “perhaps” because too transparent a name might call into play certain earmarking rules. But the Federal Election Commission’s (FEC) database of joint fundraising committees in 2012 shows similarly named entities, e.g., “Landrieu Wyden Victory Fund,” etc.).

     As I have just said, without any aggregate limit, the law will allow Rich Donor to write a single check to, say, the Smith Victory Committee, for up to $3.6 million. This check represents “the total amount that the contributor could contribute to all of the participants” in the Committee over a 2-year cycle. §102.17(c)(5). The Committee would operate under an agreement that provides a “for- mula for the allocation of fundraising proceeds” among its constituent units. §102.17(c)(1). And that “formula” would divide the proceeds so that no committee or can- didate receives more than it could have received from Rich Donor directly—$64,800, $20,000, or $5,200. See §102.17(c)(6).

     So what is wrong with that? The check is considerably larger than Example One’s check. But is there anything else wrong? The answer is yes, absolutely. The law will also permit a party and its candidates to shift most of Rich Donor’s contributions to a single candidate, say Smith. Here is how:

     The law permits each candidate and each party committee in the Smith Victory Committee to write Candidate Smith a check directly. For his primary and general elections combined, they can write checks of up to $4,000 (from each candidate’s authorized campaign committee) and $10,000 (from each state and national committee). 2 U. S. C. §§432(e)(3)(B), 441a(a)(2)(A); 11 CFR §110.3(b). This yields a potential $1,872,000 (from candidates) plus $530,000 (from party committees). Thus, the law permits the candidates and party entities to redirect $2.37 million of Rich Donor’s $3.6 million check to Candidate Smith. It also permits state and national committees to contribute to Smith’s general election campaign through making coordinated expenditures—in amounts that range from $46,600 to $2.68 million for a general election (depending upon the size of Smith’s State and whether he is running for a House or Senate seat). 78 Fed. Reg. 8530–8532. See Appendix B, Table 2(b), infra, at 40.

     The upshot is that Candidate Smith can receive at least $2.37 million and possibly the full $3.6 million contributed by Rich Donor to the Smith Victory Committee, even though the funds must first be divided up among the constituent units before they can be rerouted to Smith. Nothing requires the Smith Victory Committee to explain in advance to Rich Donor all of the various transfers that will take place, and nothing prevents the entities in the Committee from informing the donor and the receiving candidate after the fact what has transpired. Accordingly, the money can be donated and rerouted to Candidate Smith without the donor having violated the base limits or any other FEC regulation. And the evidence in the McConnell record reprinted in Appendix A, infra—with respect to soft money contributions—makes clear that Candidate Smith will almost certainly come to learn from whom he has received this money.

     The parties can apply the same procedure to other large donations, channeling money from Rich Donor Two to Candidate Jones. If 10 or 20 candidates face particularly tight races, party committees and party candidates may work together to channel Rich Donor One’s multimillion dollar contribution to the Most Embattled Candidate (e.g., Candidate Smith), Rich Donor Two’s multimillion dollar contribution to the Second Most Embattled Candidate (e.g., Candidate Jones), and so on down the line. If this does not count as evasion of the base limits, what does? Present aggregate limits confine the size of any individual gift to $123,200. Today’s opinion creates a loophole measured in the millions.

     Example Three: Proliferating Political Action Commit-tees (PACs). Campaign finance law prohibits an individual from contributing (1) more than $5,200 to any candidate in a federal election cycle, and (2) more than $5,000 to a PAC in a calendar year. 2 U. S. C. §§441a(a)(1)(A), (C); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532. It also prohibits (3) any PAC from contributing more than $10,000 to any candidate in an election cycle. §441(a)(2)(A). But the law does not prohibit an individual from contributing (within the current $123,200 biannual aggregate limit) $5,000 to each of an unlimited total number of PACs. And there, so to speak, lies the rub.

     Here is how, without any aggregate limits, a party will be able to channel $2 million from each of ten Rich Do- nors to each of ten Embattled Candidates. Groups of party supporters—individuals, corporations, or trade unions—create 200 PACs. Each PAC claims it will use the funds it raises to support several candidates from the party, though it will favor those who are most endangered. (Each PAC qualifies for “multicandidate” status because it has received contributions from more than 50 persons and has made contributions to five federal candidates at some point previously. §441a(a)(4); 11 CFR §100.5(e)(3)). Over a 2-year election cycle, Rich Donor One gives $10,000 to each PAC ($5,000 per year)—yielding $2 million total. Rich Donor 2 does the same. So, too, do the other eight Rich Donors. This brings their total donations to $20 million, disbursed among the 200 PACs. Each PAC will have collected $100,000, and each can use its money to write ten checks of $10,000—to each of the ten most Embattled Candidates in the party (over two years). See Appendix B, Table 3, infra, at 41. Every Embattled Candidate, receiving a $10,000 check from 200 PACs, will have collected $2 million.

     The upshot is that ten Rich Donors will have contrib- uted $2 million each, and ten Embattled Candidates will have collected $2 million each. In this example, unlike Example Two, the recipient candidates may not know which of the ten Rich Donors is personally responsible for the $2 million he or she receives. But the recipient candidate is highly likely to know who the ten Rich Donors are, and to feel appropriately grateful. Moreover, the ability of a small group of donors to contribute this kind of money to threatened candidates is not insignificant. In the example above—with ten Rich Donors giving $2 million each, and ten Embattled Candidates receiving $2 million each—the contributions would have been enough to finance a considerable portion of, and perhaps all of, the candidates’ races in the 2012 elections. See Appendix C, Table 1, infra, at 42 (showing that in 2012, the average winning House candidate spent $1.6 million and the average winning Senate candidate spent $11.5 million).

B

     The plurality believes that the three scenarios I have just depicted either pose no threat, or cannot or will not take place. It does not believe the scenario depicted in Example One is any cause for concern, because it involves only “general, broad-based support of a political party.” Ante, at 37. Not so. A candidate who solicits a multimillion dollar check for his party will be deeply grateful to the checkwriter, and surely could reward him with a quid pro quo favor. The plurality discounts the scenarios depicted in Example Two and Example Three because it finds such circumvention tactics “illegal under current campaign finance laws,” “implausible,” or “divorced from reality.” Ante, at 23, 24, 28. But they are not.

     The plurality’s view depends in large part upon its claim that since this Court decided Buckley in 1976, changes in either statutory law or in applicable regulations have come to make it difficult, if not impossible, for these circumvention scenarios to arise. Hence, it concludes, there is no longer a need for aggregate contribution limits. See ante, at 11–13, 22–29. But a closer examination of the five legal changes to which the plurality points makes clear that those changes cannot effectively stop the abuses that I have depicted.

     First, the plurality points out that in 1976 (a few months after this Court decided Buckley) Congress “added limits on contributions to political committees,” i.e., to PACs. Ante, at 11; accord, 90Stat. 487 (codified at 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(1)(C)). But Example Three, the here-relevant example, takes account of those limits, namely, $5,000 to a PAC in any given year. And it shows that the per-PAC limit does not matter much when it comes to the potential for circumvention, as long as party supporters can create dozens or hundreds of PACs. Federal law places no upper limit on the number of PACs supporting a party or a group of party candidates that can be established. And creating a PAC is primarily a matter of paperwork, a knowledgeable staff person, and a little time.

     Second, the plurality points out that in 1976, Congress “also added an antiproliferation rule prohibiting donors from creating or controlling multiple affiliated political committees.” Ante, at 12. The rule provides that “all contributions made by political committees established or financed or maintained or controlled” by the same corporation, labor organization, person, or group of persons, “shall be considered to have been made by a single political committee.” §441a(a)(5). But different supporters can create different PACs. Indeed, there were roughly 2,700 “nonconnected” PACs (i.e., PACs not connected to a spe- cific corporation or labor union) operating during the 2012 elections. Ante, at 24. In a future without aggregate contribution limits, far more nonconnected PACs will likely appear. The plurality also notes that the FEC can examine certain “ ‘circumstantial factors,’ ” such as “ ‘common or overlapping membership’ ” or “ ‘similar patterns of contributions,’ ” to determine whether a group of PACs are affiliated. Ante, at 25 (quoting 11 CFR §100.5(g)(4)(ii)). But the ultimate question in the affiliation inquiry is whether “one committee or organization [has] been established, financed, maintain or controlled by another committee or sponsoring organization.” Ibid. Just because a group of multicandidate PACs all support the same party and all decide to donate funds to a group of endangered candidates in that party does not mean they will qualify as “affiliated” under the relevant definition. This rule appears inadequate to stop the sort of circumvention depicted in Example Three.

     Third, the plurality says that a post-Buckley regulation has strengthened the statute’s earmarking provision. Ante, at 12. Namely, the plurality points to a rule pro- mulgated by the FEC in 1976, specifying that earmarking includes any “designation ‘whether direct or indirect, express or implied, oral or written.’ ” Ibid. (quoting 11 CFR §110.6(b)); accord, 41 Fed. Reg. 35950 (1976). This means that if Rich Donor were to give $5,000 to a PAC while “designat[ing]” (in any way) that the money go to Candidate Smith, those funds must count towards Rich Donor’s total allowable contributions to Smith—$5,200 per election cycle. But the virtually identical earmarking provision in effect when this Court decided Buckley would have required the same thing. That provision also counted, when applying the base contribution limits, “all contri- butions made by a person, either directly or indirectly, on behalf of a particular candidate, including contributions which are in any way earmarked or otherwise directed through an intermediary or conduit to a candidate.” 88Stat. 1264; accord, 2 U. S. C. §441a(a)(8) (same). What is the difference?

     Fourth, the plurality points out that the FEC’s regulations “specify that an individual who has contributed to a particular candidate committee may not also contribute to a single-candidate committee for that candidate.” Ante, at 12–13 (citing 11 CFR §110.1(h)(1); emphasis added). The regulations, however, do not prevent a person who has contributed to a candidate from also contributing to multicandidate committees that support the candidate. Indeed, the rules specifically authorize such contributions. See §110.1(h) (“A person may contribute to a candidate . . . and also contribute to a political committee which has sup- ported, or anticipates supporting, the same candidate in the same election,” as long as the political committee is “not the candidate’s principal campaign committee” or a “single candidate committee” (emphasis added)). Example Three illustrates the latter kind of contribution. And briefs before us make clear that the possibility for circumventing the base limits through making such contributions is a realistic, not an illusory, one. See Brief for Appellee 36 (demonstrating that many PACs today explain in their public materials just what fairly small group of candidates they intend to support); Brief for Americans for Campaign Reform as Amicus Curiae 14–15 (similar).

     Fifth, the plurality points to another FEC regulation (also added in 1976), which says that “an individual who has contributed to a candidate” may not “also contribute to a political committee that has supported or anticipates supporting the same candidate if the individual knows that ‘a substantial portion [of his contribution] will be contributed to, or expended on behalf of,’ that candidate.” Ante, at 13 (quoting 11 CFR §110.1(h)(2); brackets in original); accord, 41 Fed. Reg. 35948. This regulation is important, for in principle, the FEC might use it to prevent the circumstances that Examples Two and Three set forth from arising. And it is not surprising that the plurality relies upon the existence of this rule when it describes those circumstances as “implausible,” “illegal,” or “divorced from reality.” Ante, at 23, 24, 28.

     In fact, however, this regulation is not the strong anti-circumvention weapon that the plurality imagines. Despite the plurality’s assurances, it does not “disarm” the possibilities for circumvention. Ante, at 23. That is because the regulation requires a showing that donors have “knowledge that a substantial portion” of their contributions will be used by a PAC to support a candidate to whom they have already contributed. §110.1(h)(2) (emphasis added). And “knowledge” is hard to prove.

     I have found nine FEC cases decided since the year 2000 that refer to this regulation. In all but one, the FEC failed to find the requisite “knowledge”—despite the presence of Example Two or Example Three circumstances. See Factual and Legal Analysis, In re: Transfund PAC, Matter Under Review (MUR) 6221, p. 11 (FEC, June 7, 2010) (although the donor “might reasonably infer that some portion of his contribution” to a candidate’s Leadership PAC would be used to support the candidate, “such an inference alone does not suggest that [he] had ‘actual knowledge’ ” of such); Factual and Legal Analysis, In re: John Shadegg’s Friends, MUR 5968, pp. 3, 6–7 (FEC, Nov. 10, 2008) (“[T]here is no basis on which to conclude that [the donors] knew that the funds they contributed to LEAD PAC would be used to support the Shadegg Committee” even though Congressman Shadegg solicited the donations and LEAD PAC was Congressman Shadegg’s Leadership PAC); Factual and Legal Analysis, In re: Walberg for Congress, MUR 5881, pp. 6, 9–11 (FEC, Aug. 15, 2007) (finding seven contributors, who gave to a candidate and to a PAC that provided 86% of the candidate’s financing, had not shown “knowledge”); Factual and Legal Analysis, In re: Matt Brown for Senate, MUR 5732, p. 11 (FEC, Apr. 4, 2007) (“Though it may be reasonable to infer that the individual donors solicited by Brown gave to the State Parties under the assumption that some portion of their contribution might then be donated to the Brown Committee, such an inference alone is insufficient to find reason to believe 11 CFR §110.1(h) has been violated”); First General Counsel’s Report, In re: Liffrig for Senate, MUR 5678, pp. 8–9 (FEC, Nov. 27, 2006) (similar); First General Counsel’s Report, In re: Nesbitt, MUR 5445, pp. 11–12 (FEC, Feb. 2, 2005) (similar); First General Counsel’s Report, In re: Keystone Corp., MUR 5019, pp. 23–29 (FEC, Feb. 5, 2001) (similar); General Counsel’s Report #2, In re: Boston Capital Corp., MUR 4538, pp. 17–18 (FEC, Mar. 10, 2000) (recommending the FEC take no action with respect to the §110.1(h) issue). Given this record of FEC (in)activity, my reaction to the plurality’s reliance upon agency enforcement of this rule (as an adequate substitute for Congress’ aggregate limits) is like Oscar Wilde’s after reading Dickens’ account of the death of Little Nell: “One must have a heart of stone,” said Wilde, “to read [it] without laughing.” Oxford Dictionary of Humorous Quotations 86 (N. Sherrin 2d ed. 2001).

     I have found one contrary example—the single example to which the plurality refers. Ante, at 25 (citing Conciliation Agreement, In re Riley, MURs 4568, 4633, 4634, 4736 (FEC, Dec. 19, 2001)). In that case, the FEC found prob- able cause to believe that three individual contributors to several PACs had the requisite “knowledge” that the PACs would use a “substantial portion” of their contributions to support a candidate to whom they had already contributed—Sam Brownback, a candidate for the Senate (for two of the contributors), and Robert Riley, a candidate for the House (for the third). The individuals had made donations to several PACs operating as a network, under the direction of a single political consulting firm. The two contributors to Sam Brownback were his parents-in-law, and the FEC believed they might be using the PAC network to channel extra support to him. The contributor to Robert Riley was his son, and the FEC believed he might be doing the same. The facts in this case are unusual, for individ- ual contributors are not typically relatives of the candidates they are seeking to support, and ordinary PACs do not tend to work in coordination under the direction of a con-sulting firm. In any event, this single swallow cannot make the plurality’s summer.

     Thus, it is not surprising that throughout the many years this FEC regulation has been in effect, political parties and candidates have established ever more joint fundraising committees (numbering over 500 in the last federal elections); candidates have established ever more “Leadership PACs” (numbering over 450 in the last elections); and party supporters have established ever more multicandidate PACs (numbering over 3,000 in the last elections). See Appendix C, Tables 2–3, infra, at 42–43; FEC, 2014 Committee Summary (reporting the number of “qualified” (or multicandidate) PACs in 2012), online at http://www.fec.gov/data/CommitteeSummary.do (all Internet materials as visited Mar. 28, 2014, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file).

     Using these entities, candidates, parties, and party supporters can transfer and, we are told, have transferred large sums of money to specific candidates, thereby avoiding the base contribution limits in ways that Examples Two and Three help demonstrate. See Brief for Appellee 38–39, 53–54; Brief for Campaign Legal Center, et al. as Amici Curiae 12–15; Brief of Democratic Members of the United States House of Representatives as Amici Curiae 28–29. They have done so without drawing FEC prosecution—at least not according to my (and apparently the plurality’s) search of publicly available records. That is likely because in the real world, the methods of achieving circumvention are more subtle and more complex than our stylized Examples Two and Three depict. And persons have used these entities to channel money to candidates without any individual breaching the current aggregate $123,200 limit. The plurality now removes that limit, thereby permitting wealthy donors to make aggregate contributions not of $123,200, but of several millions of dollars. If the FEC regulation has failed to plug a small hole, how can it possibly plug a large one?

IV

     The plurality concludes that even if circumvention were a threat, the aggregate limits are “poorly tailored” to ad- dress it. Ante, at 30. The First Amendment requires “ ‘a fit that is . . . reasonable,’ ” and there is no such “fit” here because there are several alternative ways Congress could prevent evasion of the base limits. Ibid. (quoting Fox, 492 U. S., at 480). For instance, the plurality posits, Congress (or the FEC) could “tighten . . . transfer rules”; it could require “contributions above the current aggregate limits to be deposited into segregated, nontransferable accounts and spent only by their recipients”; it could define “how many candidates a PAC must support in order to ensure that ‘a substantial portion’ of a donor’s contribution is not rerouted to a certain candidate”; or it could prohibit “donors who have contributed the current maximum sums from further contributing to political committees that have indicated they will support candidates to whom the donor has already contributed.” Ante, at 33–35 (quoting 11 CFR §110.1(h)(2)).

     The plurality, however, does not show, or try to show, that these hypothetical alternatives could effectively replace aggregate contribution limits. Indeed, it does not even “opine on the validity of any particular proposal,” ante, at 35—presumably because these proposals themselves could be subject to constitutional challenges. For the most part, the alternatives the plurality mentions were similarly available at the time of Buckley. Their hypothetical presence did not prevent the Court from upholding aggregate limits in 1976. How can their continued hypothetical presence lead the plurality now to conclude that aggregate limits are “poorly tailored?” See ante, at 30. How can their continued hypothetical presence lead the Court to overrule Buckley now?

     In sum, the explanation of why aggregate limits are needed is complicated, as is the explanation of why other methods will not work. But the conclusion is simple: There is no “substantial mismatch” between Congress’ legitimate objective and the “means selected to achieve it.” Ante, at 10. The Court, as in Buckley, should hold that aggregate contribution limits are constitutional.

V

     The District Court in this case, holding that Buckley foreclosed McCutcheon’s constitutional challenge to the aggregate limits, granted the Government’s motion to dismiss the complaint prior to a full evidentiary hearing. See 893 F. Supp. 2d 133, 140–141 (DC 2012). If the plurality now believes the District Court was wrong, then why does it not return the case for the further evidentiary development which has not yet taken place?

     In the past, when evaluating the constitutionality of campaign finance restrictions, we have typically relied upon an evidentiary record amassed below to determine whether the law served a compelling governmental objective. And, typically, that record contained testimony from Members of Congress (or state legislators) explaining why Congress (or the legislature) acted as it did. See, e.g., McConnell, 540 U. S., at 147–154 (upholding federal restrictions on soft money by drawing on an extensive District Court record that contained declarations from current and former Members of Congress); Colorado II, 533 U. S., at 457–465 (upholding federal limits on coordinated expenditures between parties and candidates on the basis of a summary judgment record that contained declarations from party operatives, fundraisers, and Members of Congress); Shrink Missouri, 528 U. S., at 393 (upholding Missouri’s contribution limits on the basis of the lower court record, which contained similar declarations). If we are to overturn an act of Congress here, we should do so on the basis of a similar record.

     For one thing, an evidentiary record can help us determine whether or the extent to which we should defer to Congress’ own judgments, particularly those reflecting a balance of the countervailing First Amendment interests I have described. Determining whether anticorruption objectives justify a particular set of contribution limits requires answering empirically based questions, and ap- plying significant discretion and judgment. To what extent will unrestricted giving lead to corruption or its appearance? What forms will any such corruption take? To what extent will a lack of regulation undermine public confidence in the democratic system? To what extent can regulation restore it?

     These kinds of questions, while not easily answered, are questions that Congress is far better suited to resolve than are judges. Thus, while court review of contribution limits has been and should be “rigorous,” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 29, we have also recognized that “deference to legislative choice is warranted.” Beaumont, 539 U. S., at 155. And that deference has taken account of facts and circumstances set forth in an evidentiary record.

     For another thing, a comparison of the plurality’s opinion with this dissent reveals important differences of opinion on fact-related matters. We disagree, for example, on the possibilities for circumvention of the base limits in the absence of aggregate limits. We disagree about how effectively the plurality’s “alternatives” could prevent evasion. An evidentiary proceeding would permit the parties to explore these matters, and it would permit the courts to reach a more accurate judgment. The plurality rationalizes its haste to forgo an evidentiary record by noting that “the parties have treated the question as a purely legal one.” Ante, at 14, n.  4. But without a doubt, the legal question—whether the aggregate limits are closely drawn to further a compelling governmental inter-est—turns on factual questions about whether corruption, in the absence of such limits, is a realistic threat to our democracy. The plurality itself spends pages citing figures about campaign spending to defend its “legal” conclusion. Ante, at 24–26, 27–28, 30–32. The problem with such reasoning is that this Court’s expertise does not lie in marshaling facts in the primary instance. That is why in the past, when answering similar questions about the constitutionality of restrictions on campaign contributions, we have relied on an extensive evidentiary record produced below to inform our decision.

     Without further development of the record, however, I fail to see how the plurality can now find grounds for overturning Buckley. The justification for aggregate contribution restrictions is strongly rooted in the need to assure political integrity and ultimately in the First Amendment itself. Part II, supra. The threat to that integrity posed by the risk of special access and influence remains real. Part III, supra. Even taking the plurality on its own terms and considering solely the threat of quid pro quo corruption (i.e., money-for-votes exchanges), the aggregate limits are a necessary tool to stop circumvention. Ibid. And there is no basis for finding a lack of “fit” between the threat and the means used to combat it, namely the aggregate limits. Part IV, supra.

     The plurality reaches the opposite conclusion. The re- sult, as I said at the outset, is a decision that substitutes judges’ understandings of how the political process works for the understanding of Congress; that fails to recognize the difference between influence resting upon public opinion and influence bought by money alone; that overturns key precedent; that creates huge loopholes in the law; and that undermines, perhaps devastates, what remains of campaign finance reform.

     With respect, I dissent.

APPENDIXES

A

Existence of Large Donations

Expert Report: “During the 1996 election cycle, the top 50 nonfederal money donors made contributions ranging from $530,000 to $3,287,175. . . . Soft money financing of party campaigning exploded in the 2000 election cycle. Soft money spending by the national parties reached $498 million, now 42% of their total spending. Raising a half billion dollars in soft money [in 2000] took a major effort by the national parties and elected officials, but they had the advantage of focusing their efforts on large donors. . . . The top 50 soft money donors . . . each contributed between $955,695 and $5,949,000.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 440 (opinion of Kollar-Kotelly, J.) (citing T. Mann Expert Report, pp. 22, 24–25)

Candidate Solicitation of Large Donations

Judicial Finding of Fact: “It is a common practice for Members of Congress to be involved in raising both federal and non-federal dollars for the national party committees, sometimes at the parties’ request. The personal involvement of high-ranking Members of Congress is a major component of raising federal and nonfederal funds.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 471.

Senator Paul Simon: “ ‘While I was in Congress, the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee (DCCC) and the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee (DSCC) would ask Members to make phone calls seeking contributions to the party. They would assign me a list of names, people I had not known previously, and I would just go down the list. I am certain they did this because they found it more effective to have Members make calls.’ ” Ibid. (quoting Simon Decl. ¶7).

Senator John McCain: “ ‘[T]he parties encourage Members of Congress to raise large amounts of soft money to benefit their own and others’ re-election. At one recent caucus meeting, a Member of Congress was praised for raising $1.3 million dollars for the party. James Greenwood, a Republican Congressman from Pennsylvania, recently told the New York Times that House leaders consider soft money fundraising prowess in assigning chairmanships and other sought-after jobs. . . . I share Mr. Greenwood’s concerns.’ ” Id., at 476 (quoting McCain Decl. ¶7).

Representative Christopher Shays: “ ‘Soft money is raised directly by federal candidates, officeholders, and national political party leaders. National party officials often raise these funds by promising donors access to elected officials. The national parties and national congressional campaign committees also request that Members of Congress make the calls to soft money donors to solicit more funds.’ ” Id., at 471 (quoting Shays Decl. ¶18).

Representative Marty Meehan: “ ‘Members of Congress raise money for the national party committees, and I have been involved in such fund-raising for the Democratic Party. At the request of the Party Members of Congress go to the [DCCC] and call prospective donors from lists provided by the Party to ask them to participate in Party events, such as DCCC dinners or Democratic National Committee (DNC) dinners. These lists typically consist of persons who have contributed to the Democratic Party in the past.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 471 (quoting Meehan Decl. in Republican National Committee v. FEC, No. 98–CV–1207 (DC), ¶6).

 

Lobbyist: “ ‘Even though soft money contributions often go to political parties, the money is given so that the contributors can be close to, and recognized by, Members, Presidents, and Administration officials who have power. Mem- bers, not party staffers or party chairs, raise much of the large soft money contributions.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 472 (quoting Robert Rozen Decl. ¶15, a partner in a lobbying firm).

Senator Fred Thompson: “ ‘We have gone from basically a small donor system . . . where the average person believed they had a stake, believed they had a voice, to one of extremely large amounts of money, where you are not a player unless you are in the $100,000 or $200,000 range [or more] . . . .’ ” Id., at 433 (quoting 147 Cong. Rec. 4622 (2001)).

Former DNC official: “Former DNC and DSCC official and current lobbyist Robert Hickmott testifies that even incumbents with safe seats have incentives to raise money for the parties. He explains: ‘Incumbents who were not raising money for themselves because they were not up for reelection would sometimes raise money for other Senators, or for challengers. They would send $20,000 to the DSCC and ask that it be entered on another candidate’s tally. They might do this, for example, if they were planning to run for a leadership position and wanted to obtain support from the Senators they assisted. This would personally benefit them, in addition to doing their part to help retain Democratic control of the Senate, which would preserve the legislative power of all Democratic senators.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 475–476 (quoting Hickmott Decl., Exh. A ¶18).

Judicial Finding of Fact: “The DSCC maintains a ‘credit’ program that credits nonfederal money raised by a Senator or candidate to that Senator or candidate’s state party. Amounts credited to a state party can reflect that the Senator or candidate solicited the donation, or can serve as a donor’s sign of tacit support for the state party or the Senate candidate.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 477 (citation omitted).

Judicial Finding of Fact: “Federal candidates also raise nonfederal money through joint fundraising committees formed with national committees. One common method of joint fundraising is for a national congressional committee to form a separate joint fundraising committee with a federal candidate committee. . . . Two experts characterize the joint fundraising system as one ‘in which Senate candidates in effect raise[ ] soft money for use in their own races.’ ” Id., at 478 (quoting J. Krasno and F. Sorauf Expert Report, p. 13; citation omitted).

Donor Access and Influence

Judicial Finding of Fact: “The fact that Members of Congress are intimately involved in the raising of money for the political parties, particularly unlimited nonfederal money donations, creates opportunities for corruption. The record does not contain any evidence of bribery or vote buying in exchange for donations of nonfederal money; however, the evidence presented in this case convincingly demonstrates that large contributions, particularly those nonfederal contributions surpassing the federal limits, provide donors access to federal lawmakers which is a critical ingredient for influencing legislation, and which the Supreme Court has determined constitutes corruption.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 481.

Judicial Finding of Fact: “Individual donors testify that contributions provide access to influence federal officeholders on issue of concern to them.” Id., at 498.

Political donor: “ ‘I’ve been involved in political fundraising long enough to remember when soft money had little value to federal candidates. . . . [I]n recent election cycles, Members and national committees have asked soft money donors to write soft money checks to state and national parties solely in order to assist federal campaigns. Most soft money donors don’t ask and don’t care why the money is going to a particular state party, a party with which they may have no connection. What matters is that the donor has done what the Member asked.’ ” Id., at 472 (quoting Wade Randlett, Chief Executive Officer, Dashboard Technology, Decl. ¶¶6–9).

Political donor: “ ‘As a result of my $500,000 soft money donation to the DNC, I was offered the chance to at- tend events with the President, including events at the White House, a number of times. I was offered special ac- cess. . . .’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 499 (quoting Arnold Hiatt Decl. ¶9).

Senator Alan Simpson: “ ‘Too often, Members’ first thought is not what is right or wrong or what they believe, but how will it affect fundraising. Who, after all, can seriously contend that a $100,000 donation does not alter the way one thinks about—and quite possibly votes on—an issue? . . . When you don’t pay the piper that finances your campaigns, you will never get any more money from that piper. Since money is the mother’s milk of politics, you never want to be in that situation.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 481 (quoting Simpson Decl. ¶10).

Senator Alan Simpson: “ ‘Large donors of both hard and soft money receive special treatment. No matter how busy a politician may be during the day, he or she will always make time to see donors who gave large amounts of money. Staffers who work for Members know who the big donors are, and those people always get their phone calls returned first and are allowed to see the Member when others are not.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 481–482 (quoting Simpson Decl. ¶9).

Senator David Boren: “ ‘Donations, including soft money donations to political parties, do affect how Congress operates. It’s only natural, and happens all too often, that a busy Senator with 10 minutes to spare will spend those minutes returning the call of a large soft money donor rather than the call of any other constituent. . . . I know from my first-hand experience and from my interactions with other Senators that they did feel beholden to large donors.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 482 (quoting Boren Decl. ¶¶7–8).

Senator Dale Bumpers: “[Senator Bumpers] had ‘heard that some Members even keep lists of big donors in their offices,’ and [stated] that ‘you cannot be a good Democratic or good Republican Member and not be aware of who gave money to the party.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 487 (quoting Bumpers Decl. ¶¶18, 20).

Representative Christopher Shays: “ ‘The candidates know who makes these huge contributions and what these donors expect. Candidates not only solicit these funds themselves, they meet with big donors who have important issues pending before the government; and sometimes, the candidates’ or the party’s position appear to change after such meetings.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 487 (quoting 148 Cong Rec. 1305 (2002)).

Senator Warren Rudman: “ ‘Large soft money contri-butions in fact distort the legislative process. They affect what gets done and how it gets done. They affect whom Senators and House members see, whom they spend their time with, what input they get . . . .’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 496 (quoting Rudman Decl. ¶¶7, 9).

Senator Paul Simon: “ ‘While I realize some argue donors don’t buy favors, they buy access. That access is the abuse and it affects all of us. . . . You feel a sense of gratitude for their support. . . . Because few people can afford to give over $20,000 or $25,000 to a party committee, those people who can will receive substantially better access to elected federal leaders than people who can only afford smaller contributions or can not afford to make any contributions. When you increase the amount that people are allowed to give, or let people give without limit to the parties, you increase the danger of unfair access.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 496 (quoting Simon Decl. ¶16).

Senator John McCain: “ ‘At a minimum, large soft money donations purchase an opportunity for the donors to make their case to elected officials . . . in a way average citizens cannot.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 496 (quoting McCain Decl. ¶6).

Senator Warren Rudman: “ ‘I understand that those who opposed passage of the Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act, and those who now challenge its constitutionality in Court, dare elected officials to point to specific [instances of vote buying]. I think this misses the point altogether. [The access and influence accorded large donors] is inherently, endemically, and hopelessly corrupting. You can’t swim in the ocean without getting wet; you can’t be part of this system without getting dirty.’ ” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 481 (quoting Rudman Decl. ¶10).

Judicial Finding of Fact: “Lobbyists state that their clients make donations to political parties to achieve access.” 251 F. Supp. 2d, at 489.

Letter from Republican National Committee (RNC) staffer: “ ‘As you know, [this executive] has been very generous to the RNC. If there is any way you can assist [in obtaining an appointment with an important Senator], it would be greatly appreciated.’ ” Id., at 501 (quoting Memorandum from Tim Barnes, RNC, to Royal Roth).

Letter from RNC: “[The] letter from RNC to Senator Hagel staffer [asks] Senator Hagel to meet with a donor for four ‘key’ reasons including: . . . ‘[h]e just contributed $100,000 to the RNC.’ ” Ibid. (quoting a letter in the judicial record).

Judicial Finding of Fact: “The political parties have structured their donation programs so that donors are encouraged to contribute larger amounts in order to get access to more exclusive and intimate events at which Members or Congress are present. The evidence also shows that the parties use the enticement of access to secure larger donations. ” Id., at 502 (quoting a document in the judicial record).

B

Table 1: Donations to Support the Party

Base Limit

(per year)

Number

(committees)

Years

Total Contributions (per 2-year cycle)

National Party Committees

$32,400

     3

2

     $194,400

State Party Committees

     $10,000

50

2

     $1,000,000

Total

$1,194,400

     Source: See 2 U. S. C. §§441a(a)(1)(B), (D); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532.

Table 2(a): The $3.6 Million Check

Base Limit

(per year/ election)

Number

(committees/ candidates)

Years

or Elections

Total Contribu-tions

(per 2-year cycle)

National Party Committees

$32,400

     3

2

     $194,400

State Party Committees

     $10,000

     50

2

     $1,000,000

Candidates (Senate)

     $2,600

     33

2

     $171,600

Candidates (House)

     $2,600

435

2

     $2,262,000

Total

$3,628,000

     Source: See 2 U. S. C. §§441a(a)(1)(A), (B), (D); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532.

 

Table 2(b): Circumvention of the $3.6 Million Check

Direct Contributions to Candidate (per election)

Number

(committees/ candidates)

Elec-tions

Total Direct Contributions (per 2-year cycle)

National Party Committees

$5,000

     3

2

     $30,0001

State Party Committees

     $5,000

     50

2

     $500,000

Candidates (Senate)

     $2,000

     33     

2

     $132,000

Candidates (House)

     $2,000

     435

2

     $1,740,000

Total Direct Contributions

$2,372,000

Independent Expenditures (IEs)

(per general election)

Elec-tions

Total IEs (per general election)

House Candidate

Senate Candidate

National Party Committees

$46,600 (min)2

$94,100 (min)3

1

$46,600–

     $93,100

(min)

State Party Committees

     $46,600

(min)2

$94,100 (min)3

1

$46,600–$93,100 (min)

Total IEs

     $46,600

(min)2

$94,100 (min)3

$46,600–$93,100 (min)

     1 $45,400 for a Senate candidate. §441a(h); 78 Fed. Reg. 8532.

     2 If the State has more than one House seat, this figure is $46,600. If it has one House seat, this figure is $93,100. Id., at 8531.

     3 This figure ranges from $93,100 (Del.) to $2,68 million (Cal.), depending on the State’s population. Ibid.

     Source: See 2 U. S. C. §§432(e)(3)(B), 441a(a)(2)(A); 11 CFR §110.3(b); 78 Fed. Reg. 8530–8532.

 

Table 3: Proliferating PACs

 

Base Limit (per year)

Number (PACs)

Years

Total Contributions (per 2-year cycle)

Rich Donor One

$5,000

200

2

$2,000,000

Rich Donor Two

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Three

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Four

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Five

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Six

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Seven

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Eight

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Nine

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Rich Donor Ten

     $5,000

200

2

     $2,000,000

Total Contributions to PACs (by 10 Donors)

$20,000,000

Total Contributions by Each Donor

$2,000,000

 

Base Limit (per election)

Number (candi-dates)

Elec-tions

 

PAC One

$5,000

10

2

     $100,000

PAC Two

     $5,000

10

2

     $100,000

PAC Three

     $5,000

10

2

     $100,000

. . .

etc.

etc.

etc.

etc.

PAC 200

     $5,000

10

2

     $100,000

Total Contributions by PACs (to 10 Candidates)

$20,000,000

Total Contributions to Each Candidate

$2,000,000

     Source: 2 U. S. C. §§441a(a)(1)(C), 441a(a)(2)(A).

C

Table 1: Costs of a Federal Seat

 

2012 Elections

House

 

Average House Winner Spent

     $1,567,293

Average House Loser Spent

     $496,637

Average Winner's Receipts from PACs

     $665,728

Senate

Average Senate Winner Spent

     $11,474,077

Average Senate Loser Spent

$7,435,446

Average Winner's Receipts from PACs

     $2,185,650

     Source: Center for Responsive Politics, Election Stats, online at

http://www.opensecrets.org/bigpicture/elec_stats.php.

Table 2: Leadership PACs

 

Number of Leadership PACs

(contributing to federal candidates)

Total Contributed (to federal candidates)

2000 Elections

175

$17,000,000

2002 Elections

228

     $25,000,000

2004 Elections

274

     $30,700,000

2006 Elections

336

     $44,700,000

2008 Elections

378

     $40,600,000

2010 Elections

396

     $44,000,000

2012 Elections

456

     $46,400,000

     Source: Center for Responsive Politics, Leadership PACs, online at

http://www.opensecrets.org/pacs.

 

Table 3: Joint Fundraising Committees

 

Number of Joint Fundraising Committees

“Senate” Related

“House”

Related

2008 Elections

269

31

34

2010 Elections

367

37

60

2012 Elections

508

67

89

     Source: Federal Election Commission, online at

http://www.fec.gov/data/CommitteeSummary.do.

15.37 Minnesota Voters Alliance v. Mansky 15.37 Minnesota Voters Alliance v. Mansky

585 U.S. ___ (2018)

Syllabus

NOTE: Where it is feasible, a syllabus (headnote) will be released, as is being done in connection with this case, at the time the opinion is issued. The syllabus constitutes no part of the opinion of the Court but has been prepared by the Reporter of Decisions for the convenience of the reader. See United States v. Detroit Timber & Lumber Co., 200 U. S. 321, 337.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

Syllabus

Minnesota Voters Alliance et al. v. Mansky et al.

certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the eighth circuit

No. 16–1435. Argued February 28, 2018—Decided June 14, 2018

Minnesota law prohibits individuals, including voters, from wearing a “political badge, political button, or other political insignia” inside a polling place on Election Day. Minn. Stat. §211B.11(1) (Supp. 2017). This “political apparel ban” covers articles of clothing and accessories with political insignia upon them. State election judges have the authority to decide whether a particular item falls within the ban. Violators are subject to a civil penalty or prosecution for a petty misdemeanor.

Days before the November 2010 election, petitioner Minnesota Voters Alliance (MVA) and other plaintiffs challenged the ban in Federal District Court on First Amendment grounds. In response to the lawsuit, the State distributed an Election Day Policy to election officials providing guidance on enforcement of the ban. The Election Day Policy specified examples of prohibited apparel to include items displaying the name of a political party, items displaying the name of a candidate, items supporting or opposing a ballot question, “[i]ssue oriented material designed to influence or impact voting,” and “[m]aterial promoting a group with recognizable political views.” App. to Pet. for Cert. I–1 to I–2. On Election Day, some voters ran into trouble with the ban, including petitioner Andrew Cilek, who allegedly was turned away from the polls for wearing a “Please I. D. Me” button and a T-shirt bearing the words “Don’t Tread on Me” and a Tea Party Patriots logo.

MVA and the other plaintiffs argued that the ban was unconstitutional both on its face and as applied to their particular items of apparel. The District Court granted the State’s motion to dismiss, and the Eighth Circuit affirmed the dismissal of the facial challenge and remanded the case for further proceedings on the as-applied challenge. The District Court granted summary judgment to the State on the as-applied challenge, and the Eighth Circuit affirmed. MVA, Cilek, and petitioner Susan Jeffers (collectively MVA) petitioned for review of their facial First Amendment claim only.

Held: Minnesota’s political apparel ban violates the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment. Pp. 7–19.

(a) Because the political apparel ban applies only in a specific location—the interior of a polling place—it implicates the Court’s “ ‘forum based’ approach for assessing restrictions that the government seeks to place on the use of its property.” International Soc. for Krishna Consciousness, Inc. v. Lee, 505 U. S. 672, 678. A polling place in Minnesota qualifies as a nonpublic forum under the Court’s precedents. As such it may be subject to content-based restrictions on speech, see, e.g.Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Ed. Fund, Inc., 473 U. S. 788, 806–811, so long as the restrictions are “reasonable and not an effort to suppress expression merely because public officials oppose the speaker’s view,” Perry Ed. Assn. v. Perry Local Educators’ Assn., 460 U. S. 37, 46. Because the text of the statute makes no distinction based on the speaker’s political persuasion, the question is whether the apparel ban is “reasonable in light of the purpose served by the forum”: voting. Cornelius, 473 U. S., at 806. Pp. 7–9.

(b) Minnesota’s prohibition on political apparel serves a permissible objective. In Burson v. Freeman, 504 U. S. 191, the Court upheld a Tennessee law imposing a 100-foot zone around polling place entrances in which no person could solicit votes, distribute campaign materials, or “display . . . campaign posters, signs or other campaign materials.” 504 U. S., at 193–194 (plurality opinion). In finding that the law withstood even strict scrutiny, the Burson plurality—whose analysis was endorsed by Justice Scalia’s opinion concurring in the judgment—emphasized the problems of fraud, voter intimidation, confusion, and general disorder that had plagued polling places in the past. Against that historical backdrop, the plurality and Justice Scalia upheld Tennessee’s determination that a campaign-free zone outside the polls was necessary to secure the advantages of the secret ballot and protect the right to vote.

MVA argues that Burson considered only active campaigning outside the polling place by campaign workers and others trying to engage voters approaching the polls, while Minnesota’s ban prohibits passive self-expression by voters themselves when voting. But although the plurality and Justice Scalia in Burson did not expressly address the application of the Tennessee law to apparel—or consider the interior of the polling place as opposed to its environs—the Tennessee law swept broadly to ban even the plain “display” of a campaign-related message, and the Burson Court upheld the law in full. The plurality’s conclusion that the State was warranted in designating an area for the voters as “their own” as they enter the polling place, id., at 210, suggests an interest more significant, not less, within that place.

No basis exists for rejecting Minnesota’s determination that some forms of campaign advocacy should be excluded from the polling place in order to set it aside as “an island of calm in which voters can peacefully contemplate their choices.” Brief for Respondents 43. Casting a vote is a weighty civic act, and the State may reasonably decide that the interior of the polling place should reflect the distinction between voting and campaigning. And while the Court has noted the “nondisruptive” nature of expressive apparel in more mundane settings, see, e.g., Board of Airport Comm’rs of Los Angeles v. Jews for Jesus, Inc., 482 U. S. 569, 576, those observations do not speak to the unique context of a polling place on Election Day. Pp. 9–12.

(c) But the line the State draws must be reasonable. The State therefore must be able to articulate some sensible basis for distinguishing what may come in from what must stay out. The unmoored use of the term “political” in the Minnesota law, combined with haphazard interpretations the State has provided in official guidance and representations to this Court, cause Minnesota’s restriction to fail this test.

The statute does not define the term “political,” a word that can broadly encompass anything “of or relating to government, a government, or the conduct of governmental affairs.” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 1755. The State argues that the apparel ban should be interpreted more narrowly to proscribe “only words and symbols that an objectively reasonable observer would perceive as conveying a message about the electoral choices at issue in [the] polling place.” Brief for Respondents 13. At the same time, the State argues that the category of “political” apparel is not limited to campaign apparel.

The Court considers a State’s authoritative constructions in interpreting a state law. But far from clarifying the indeterminate scope of the provision, Minnesota’s “electoral choices” construction introduces confusing line-drawing problems. For specific examples of what messages are banned under that standard, the State points to the Election Day Policy. The first three categories of prohibited items in the Policy are clear. But the next category—“issue oriented material designed to influence or impact voting”—raises more questions than it answers. The State takes the position that any subject on which a political candidate or party has taken a stance qualifies as an “issue” within the meaning of that category. Such a rule—whose fair enforcement requires an election judge to maintain a mental index of the platforms and positions of every candidate and party on the ballot—is not reasonable.

The next broad category in the Election Day Policy—any item “promoting a group with recognizable political views”—makes matters worse. The State does not confine that category to groups that have endorsed a candidate or taken a position on a ballot question. As a result, any number of associations, educational institutions, businesses, and religious organizations could have an opinion on an “issue confronting voters.” The State represents that the ban is limited to apparel promoting groups with “well-known” political positions. But that requirement only increases the potential for erratic application, as its enforcement may turn in significant part on the background knowledge of the particular election judge applying it.

It is “self-evident” that an indeterminate prohibition carries with it “[t]he opportunity for abuse, especially where [it] has received a virtually open-ended interpretation.” Jews for Jesus, 482 U. S., at 576. The discretion election judges exercise in enforcing the ban must be guided by objective, workable standards. Without them, an election judge’s own politics may shape his views on what counts as “political.” And if voters experience or witness episodes of unfair or inconsistent enforcement of the ban, the State’s interest in maintaining a polling place free of distraction and disruption would be undermined by the very measure intended to further it. Thus, if a State wishes to set its polling places apart as areas free of partisan discord, it must employ a more discernible approach than the one offered by Minnesota here. Pp. 12–19.

849 F. 3d 749, reversed and remanded.

Roberts, C. J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Kennedy, Thomas, Ginsburg, Alito, Kagan, and Gorsuch, JJ., joined. Sotomayor, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Breyer, J., joined.

 

Opinion

NOTICE: This opinion is subject to formal revision before publication in the preliminary print of the United States Reports. Readers are requested to notify the Reporter of Decisions, Supreme Court of the United States, Washington, D. C. 20543, of any typographical or other formal errors, in order that corrections may be made before the preliminary print goes to press.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

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No. 16–1435

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MINNESOTA VOTERS ALLIANCE, et al., PETITIONERS v. JOE MANSKY, et al.

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the eighth circuit

[June 14, 2018]

 

Chief Justice Roberts delivered the opinion of the Court.

Under Minnesota law, voters may not wear a political badge, political button, or anything bearing political insignia inside a polling place on Election Day. The question presented is whether this ban violates the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment.

I

A

Today, Americans going to their polling places on Election Day expect to wait in a line, briefly interact with an election official, enter a private voting booth, and cast an anonymous ballot. Little about this ritual would have been familiar to a voter in the mid-to-late nineteenth century. For one thing, voters typically deposited pri- vately prepared ballots at the polls instead of completing official ballots on-site. These pre-made ballots often took the form of “party tickets”—printed slates of candidate selections, often distinctive in appearance, that political parties distributed to their supporters and pressed upon others around the polls. See E. Evans, A History of the Australian Ballot System in the United States 6–11 (1917) (Evans); R. Bensel, The American Ballot Box in the Mid-Nineteenth Century 14–15 (2004) (Bensel).

The physical arrangement confronting the voter was also different. The polling place often consisted simply of a “voting window” through which the voter would hand his ballot to an election official situated in a separate room with the ballot box. Bensel 11, 13; see, e.g., C. Rowell, Digest of Contested-Election Cases in the Fifty-First Congress 224 (1891) (report of Rep. Lacey) (considering whether “the ability to reach the window and actually tender the ticket to the [election] judges” is “essential in all cases to constitute a good offer to vote”); Holzer, Election Day 1860, Smithsonian Magazine (Nov. 2008), pp. 46, 52 (describing the interior voting window on the third floor of the Springfield, Illinois courthouse where Abraham Lincoln voted). As a result of this arrangement, “the actual act of voting was usually performed in the open,” frequently within view of interested onlookers. Rusk, The Effect of the Australian Ballot Reform on Split Ticket Voting: 1876–1908, Am. Pol. Sci. Rev. 1220, 1221 (1970) (Rusk); see Evans 11–13.

As documented in Burson v. Freeman, 504 U. S. 191 (1992), “[a]pproaching the polling place under this system was akin to entering an open auction place.” Id., at 202 (plurality opinion). The room containing the ballot boxes was “usually quiet and orderly,” but “[t]he public space outside the window . . . was chaotic.” Bensel 13. Electioneering of all kinds was permitted. See id., at 13, 16–17; R. Dinkin, Election Day: A Documentary History 19 (2002). Crowds would gather to heckle and harass voters who appeared to be supporting the other side. Indeed, “[u]nder the informal conventions of the period, election etiquette required only that a ‘man of ordinary courage’ be able to make his way to the voting window.” Bensel 20–21. “In short, these early elections were not a very pleasant spectacle for those who believed in democratic government.” Burson, 504 U. S., at 202 (plurality opinion) (internal quotation marks omitted).

By the late nineteenth century, States began implementing reforms to address these vulnerabilities and improve the reliability of elections. Between 1888 and 1896, nearly every State adopted the secret ballot. See id., at 203–205. Because voters now needed to mark their state-printed ballots on-site and in secret, voting moved into a sequestered space where the voters could “deliberate and make a decision in . . . privacy.” Rusk 1221; see Evans 35; 1889 Minn. Stat. ch. 3, §§27–28, p. 21 (regulating, as part of Minnesota’s secret ballot law, the arrangement of voting compartments inside the polling place). In addition, States enacted “viewpoint-neutral restrictions on election-day speech” in the immediate vicinity of the polls. Burson, 504 U. S., at 214–215 (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment) (by 1900, 34 of 45 States had such restrictions). Today, all 50 States and the District of Columbia have laws curbing various forms of speech in and around polling places on Election Day.

Minnesota’s such law contains three prohibitions, only one of which is challenged here. See Minn. Stat. §211B.11(1) (Supp. 2017). The first sentence of §211B.11(1) forbids any person to “display campaign material, post signs, ask, solicit, or in any manner try to induce or persuade a voter within a polling place or within 100 feet of the building in which a polling place is situ- ated” to “vote for or refrain from voting for a candidate or ballot question.” The second sentence prohibits the distribution of “political badges, political buttons, or other political insignia to be worn at or about the polling place.” The third sentence—the “political apparel ban”—states that a “political badge, political button, or other political insignia may not be worn at or about the polling place.” Versions of all three prohibitions have been on the books in Minnesota for over a century. See 1893 Minn. Laws ch. 4, §108, pp. 51–52; 1912 Minn. Laws, 1st Spec. Sess., ch. 3, p. 24; 1988 Minn. Laws ch. 578, Art. 3, §11, p. 594 (reenacting the prohibitions as part of §211B.11).

There is no dispute that the political apparel ban applies only within the polling place, and covers articles of clothing and accessories with “political insignia” upon them. Minnesota election judges—temporary government employees working the polls on Election Day—have the authority to decide whether a particular item falls within the ban. App. to Pet. for Cert. I–1. If a voter shows up wearing a prohibited item, the election judge is to ask the individual to conceal or remove it. Id., at I–2. If the individual refuses, the election judge must allow him to vote, while making clear that the incident “will be recorded and referred to appropriate authorities.” Ibid. Violators are subject to an administrative process before the Minnesota Office of Administrative Hearings, which, upon finding a violation, may issue a reprimand or impose a civil penalty. Minn. Stat. §§211B.32, 211B.35(2) (2014). That administrative body may also refer the complaint to the county attorney for prosecution as a petty misdemeanor; the maximum penalty is a $300 fine. §§211B.11(4) (Supp. 2017), 211B.35(2) (2014), 609.02(4a) (2016).

B

Petitioner Minnesota Voters Alliance (MVA) is a nonprofit organization that “seeks better government through election reforms.” Pet. for Cert. 5. Petitioner Andrew Cilek is a registered voter in Hennepin County and the executive director of MVA; petitioner Susan Jeffers served in 2010 as a Ramsey County election judge. Five days before the November 2010 election, MVA, Jeffers, and other likeminded groups and individuals filed a lawsuit in Federal District Court challenging the political apparel ban on First Amendment grounds. The groups—calling themselves “Election Integrity Watch” (EIW)—planned to have supporters wear buttons to the polls printed with the words “Please I. D. Me,” a picture of an eye, and a telephone number and web address for EIW. (Minnesota law does not require individuals to show identification to vote.) One of the individual plaintiffs also planned to wear a “Tea Party Patriots” shirt. The District Court denied the plaintiffs’ request for a temporary restraining order and preliminary injunction and allowed the apparel ban to remain in effect for the upcoming election.

In response to the lawsuit, officials for Hennepin and Ramsey Counties distributed to election judges an “Election Day Policy,” providing guidance on the enforcement of the political apparel ban. The Minnesota Secretary of State also distributed the Policy to election officials throughout the State. The Policy specified that examples of apparel falling within the ban “include, but are not limited to”:

“• Any item including the name of a political party in Minnesota, such as the Republican, [Democratic-Farmer-Labor], Independence, Green or Libertar- ian parties.

• Any item including the name of a candidate at any election.

• Any item in support of or opposition to a ballot question at any election.

• Issue oriented material designed to influence or impact voting (including specifically the ‘Please I. D. Me’ buttons).

• Material promoting a group with recognizable political views (such as the Tea Party, MoveOn.org, and so on).” App. to Pet. for Cert. I–1 to I–2.

As alleged in the plaintiffs’ amended complaint and supporting declarations, some voters associated with EIW ran into trouble with the ban on Election Day. One individual was asked to cover up his Tea Party shirt. Another refused to conceal his “Please I. D. Me” button, and an election judge recorded his name and address for possible referral. And petitioner Cilek—who was wearing the same button and a T-shirt with the words “Don’t Tread on Me” and the Tea Party Patriots logo—was twice turned away from the polls altogether, then finally permitted to vote after an election judge recorded his information.

Back in court, MVA and the other plaintiffs (now joined by Cilek) argued that the ban was unconstitutional both on its face and as applied to their apparel. The District Court granted the State’s motions to dismiss, and the Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit affirmed in part and reversed in part. Minnesota Majority v. Mansky, 708 F. 3d 1051 (2013). In evaluating MVA’s facial challenge, the Court of Appeals observed that this Court had previously upheld a state law restricting speech “related to a political campaign” in a 100-foot zone outside a polling place; the Court of Appeals determined that Minnesota’s law likewise passed constitutional muster. Id., at 1056–1058 (quoting Burson, 504 U. S., at 197 (plurality opinion)). The Court of Appeals reversed the dismissal of the plaintiffs’ as-applied challenge, however, finding that the District Court had improperly considered matters outside the pleadings. 708 F. 3d, at 1059. Judge Shepherd concurred in part and dissented in part. In his view, Minnesota’s broad restriction on political apparel did not “rationally and reasonably” serve the State’s asserted interests. Id., at 1062. On remand, the District Court granted summary judgment for the State on the as-applied challenge, and this time the Court of Appeals affirmed. Minnesota Majority v. Mansky, 849 F. 3d 749 (2017).

MVA, Cilek, and Jeffers (hereinafter MVA) petitioned for review of their facial First Amendment claim only. We granted certiorari. 583 U. S. ___ (2017).

II

The First Amendment prohibits laws “abridging the freedom of speech.” Minnesota’s ban on wearing any “political badge, political button, or other political insignia” plainly restricts a form of expression within the protection of the First Amendment.

But the ban applies only in a specific location: the interior of a polling place. It therefore implicates our “ ‘forum based’ approach for assessing restrictions that the government seeks to place on the use of its property.” International Soc. for Krishna Consciousness, Inc. v. Lee, 505 U. S. 672, 678 (1992) (ISKCON). Generally speaking, our cases recognize three types of government-controlled spaces: traditional public forums, designated public forums, and nonpublic forums. In a traditional public forum—parks, streets, sidewalks, and the like—the government may impose reasonable time, place, and manner restrictions on private speech, but restrictions based on content must satisfy strict scrutiny, and those based on viewpoint are prohibited. See Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U. S. 460, 469 (2009). The same standards apply in designated public forums—spaces that have “not traditionally been regarded as a public forum” but which the government has “intentionally opened up for that purpose.” Id., at 469–470. In a nonpublic forum, on the other hand—a space that “is not by tradition or designation a forum for public communication”—the government has much more flexibility to craft rules limiting speech. Perry Ed. Assn. v. Perry Local Educators’ Assn., 460 U. S. 37, 46 (1983). The government may reserve such a forum “for its intended purposes, communicative or otherwise, as long as the regulation on speech is reasonable and not an effort to suppress expression merely because public officials oppose the speaker’s view.” Ibid.

This Court employs a distinct standard of review to assess speech restrictions in nonpublic forums because the government, “no less than a private owner of property,” retains the “power to preserve the property under its control for the use to which it is lawfully dedicated.” Adderley v. Florida, 385 U. S. 39, 47 (1966). “Nothing in the Constitution requires the Government freely to grant access to all who wish to exercise their right to free speech on every type of Government property without regard to the nature of the property or to the disruption that might be caused by the speaker’s activities.” Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Ed. Fund, Inc., 473 U. S. 788, 799–800 (1985). Accordingly, our decisions have long recognized that the government may impose some content-based restrictions on speech in nonpublic forums, including restrictions that exclude political advocates and forms of political advocacy. See id., at 806–811; Greer v. Spock, 424 U. S. 828, 831–833, 838–839 (1976); Lehman v. Shaker Heights, 418 U. S. 298, 303–304 (1974) (plurality opin- ion); id., at 307–308 (Douglas, J., concurring in judgment).

A polling place in Minnesota qualifies as a nonpublic forum. It is, at least on Election Day, government-controlled property set aside for the sole purpose of voting. The space is “a special enclave, subject to greater restriction.” ISKCON, 505 U. S., at 680. Rules strictly govern who may be present, for what purpose, and for how long. See Minn. Stat. §204C.06 (2014). And while the four-Justice plurality in Burson and Justice Scalia’s concurrence in the judgment parted ways over whether the public sidewalks and streets surrounding a polling place qualify as a nonpublic forum, neither opinion suggested that the interior of the building was anything but. See 504 U. S., at 196–197, and n. 2 (plurality opinion); id., at 214–216 (opinion of Scalia, J.).

We therefore evaluate MVA’s First Amendment challenge under the nonpublic forum standard. The text of the apparel ban makes no distinction based on the speaker’s political persuasion, so MVA does not claim that the ban discriminates on the basis of viewpoint on its face. The question accordingly is whether Minnesota’s ban on political apparel is “reasonable in light of the purpose served by the forum”: voting. Cornelius, 473 U. S., at 806.

III

A

We first consider whether Minnesota is pursuing a permissible objective in prohibiting voters from wearing particular kinds of expressive apparel or accessories while inside the polling place. The natural starting point for evaluating a First Amendment challenge to such a restriction is this Court’s decision in Burson, which upheld a Tennessee law imposing a 100-foot campaign-free zone around polling place entrances. Under the Tennessee law—much like Minnesota’s buffer-zone provision—no person could solicit votes for or against a candidate, party, or ballot measure, distribute campaign materials, or “display . . . campaign posters, signs or other campaign materials” within the restricted zone. 504 U. S., at 193–194 (plurality opinion). The plurality found that the law withstood even the strict scrutiny applicable to speech restrictions in traditional public forums. Id., at 211. In his opinion concurring in the judgment, Justice Scalia argued that the less rigorous “reasonableness” standard of review should apply, and found the law “at least reasonable” in light of the plurality’s analysis. Id., at 216.

That analysis emphasized the problems of fraud, voter intimidation, confusion, and general disorder that had plagued polling places in the past. See id., at 200–204 (plurality opinion). Against that historical backdrop, the plurality and Justice Scalia upheld Tennessee’s determination, supported by overwhelming consensus among the States and “common sense,” that a campaign-free zone outside the polls was “necessary” to secure the advantages of the secret ballot and protect the right to vote. Id., at 200, 206–208, 211. As the plurality explained, “[t]he State of Tennessee has decided that [the] last 15 seconds before its citizens enter the polling place should be their own, as free from interference as possible.” Id., at 210. That was not “an unconstitutional choice.” Ibid.

MVA disputes the relevance of Burson to Minnesota’s apparel ban. On MVA’s reading, Burson considered only “active campaigning” outside the polling place by campaign workers and others trying to engage voters approaching the polls. Brief for Petitioners 36–37. Minne- sota’s law, by contrast, prohibits what MVA characterizes as “passive, silent” self-expression by voters themselves when voting. Reply Brief 17. MVA also points out that the plurality focused on the extent to which the restricted zone combated “voter intimidation and election fraud,” 504 U. S., at 208—concerns that, in MVA’s view, have little to do with a prohibition on certain types of voter apparel.

Campaign buttons and apparel did come up in the Burson briefing and argument, but neither the plurality nor Justice Scalia expressly addressed such applications of the law.[1] Nor did either opinion specifically consider the interior of the polling place as opposed to its environs, and it is true that the plurality’s reasoning focused on campaign activities of a sort not likely to occur in an area where, for the most part, only voters are permitted while voting. At the same time, Tennessee’s law swept broadly to ban even the plain “display” of a campaign-related message, and the Court upheld the law in full. The plurality’s conclusion that the State was warranted in designating an area for the voters as “their own” as they enter the polling place suggests an interest more significant, not less, within that place. Id., at 210.

In any event, we see no basis for rejecting Minnesota’s determination that some forms of advocacy should be excluded from the polling place, to set it aside as “an island of calm in which voters can peacefully contemplate their choices.” Brief for Respondents 43. Casting a vote is a weighty civic act, akin to a jury’s return of a verdict, or a representative’s vote on a piece of legislation. It is a time for choosing, not campaigning. The State may reasonably decide that the interior of the polling place should reflect that distinction.

To be sure, our decisions have noted the “nondisruptive” nature of expressive apparel in more mundane settings. Board of Airport Comm’rs of Los Angeles v. Jews for Jesus, Inc., 482 U. S. 569, 576 (1987) (so characterizing “the wearing of a T-shirt or button that contains a political message” in an airport); Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School Dist., 393 U. S. 503, 508 (1969) (students wearing black armbands to protest the Vietnam War engaged in “silent, passive expression of opinion, unaccompanied by any disorder or disturbance”). But those observations do not speak to the unique context of a polling place on Election Day. Members of the public are brought together at that place, at the end of what may have been a divisive election season, to reach considered decisions about their government and laws. The State may reasonably take steps to ensure that partisan discord not follow the voter up to the voting booth, and distract from a sense of shared civic obligation at the moment it counts the most. That interest may be thwarted by displays that do not raise significant concerns in other situations.

Other States can see the matter differently, and some do.[2] The majority, however, agree with Minnesota that at least some kinds of campaign-related clothing and accessories should stay outside. [3] That broadly shared judgment is entitled to respect. Cf. Burson, 504 U. S., at 206 (plurality opinion) (finding that a “widespread and time-tested consensus” supported the constitutionality of campaign buffer zones).

Thus, in light of the special purpose of the polling place itself, Minnesota may choose to prohibit certain apparel there because of the message it conveys, so that voters may focus on the important decisions immediately at hand.

B

But the State must draw a reasonable line. Although there is no requirement of narrow tailoring in a nonpublic forum, the State must be able to articulate some sensible basis for distinguishing what may come in from what must stay out. See Cornelius, 473 U. S., at 808–809. Here, the unmoored use of the term “political” in the Minnesota law, combined with haphazard interpretations the State has provided in official guidance and representations to this Court, cause Minnesota’s restriction to fail even this forgiving test.

Again, the statute prohibits wearing a “political badge, political button, or other political insignia.” It does not define the term “political.” And the word can be expansive. It can encompass anything “of or relating to government, a government, or the conduct of governmental affairs,” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 1755 (2002), or anything “[o]f, relating to, or dealing with the structure or affairs of government, politics, or the state,” American Heritage Dictionary 1401 (3d ed. 1996). Under a literal reading of those definitions, a button or T-shirt merely imploring others to “Vote!” could qualify.

The State argues that the apparel ban should not be read so broadly. According to the State, the statute does not prohibit “any conceivably ‘political’ message” or cover “all ‘political’ speech, broadly construed.” Brief for Respondents 21, 23. Instead, the State interprets the ban to proscribe “only words and symbols that an objectively reasonable observer would perceive as conveying a message about the electoral choices at issue in [the] polling place.” Id., at 13; see id., at 19 (the ban “applies not to any message regarding government or its affairs, but to messages relating to questions of governmental affairs facing voters on a given election day”).

At the same time, the State argues that the category of “political” apparel is not limited to campaign apparel. After all, the reference to “campaign material” in the first sentence of the statute—describing what one may not “display” in the buffer zone as well as inside the polling place—implies that the distinct term “political” should be understood to cover a broader class of items. As the State’s counsel explained to the Court, Minnesota’s law “expand[s] the scope of what is prohibited from campaign speech to additional political speech.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 50.

We consider a State’s “authoritative constructions” in interpreting a state law. Forsyth County v. Nationalist Movement, 505 U. S. 123, 131 (1992). But far from clarifying the indeterminate scope of the political apparel provision, the State’s “electoral choices” construction introduces confusing line-drawing problems. Cf. Jews for Jesus, 482 U. S., at 575–576 (a resolution banning all “ First Amendment activities” in an airport could not be saved by a “murky” construction excluding “airport-related” activity).

For specific examples of what is banned under its standard, the State points to the 2010 Election Day Pol- icy—which it continues to hold out as authoritative guidance regarding implementation of the statute. See Brief for Respondents 22–23. The first three examples in the Policy are clear enough: items displaying the name of a political party, items displaying the name of a candidate, and items demonstrating “support of or opposition to a ballot question.” App. to Pet. for Cert. I–2.

But the next example—“[i]ssue oriented material designed to influence or impact voting,” id., at I–2—raises more questions than it answers. What qualifies as an “issue”? The answer, as far as we can tell from the State’s briefing and argument, is any subject on which a political candidate or party has taken a stance. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 37 (explaining that the “electoral choices” test looks at the “issues that have been raised” in a campaign “that are relevant to the election”). For instance, the Election Day Policy specifically notes that the “Please I. D. Me” buttons are prohibited. App. to Pet. for Cert. I–2. But a voter identification requirement was not on the ballot in 2010, see Brief for Respondents 47, n. 24, so a Minnesotan would have had no explicit “electoral choice” to make in that respect. The buttons were nonetheless covered, the State tells us, because the Republican candidates for Governor and Secretary of State had staked out positions on whether photo identification should be required. Ibid.; see App. 58–60.[4]

A rule whose fair enforcement requires an election judge to maintain a mental index of the platforms and positions of every candidate and party on the ballot is not reason- able. Candidates for statewide and federal office and major political parties can be expected to take positions on a wide array of subjects of local and national import. See, e.g., Democratic Platform Committee, 2016 Democratic Party Platform (approved July 2016) (stating positions on over 90 issues); Republican Platform Committee, Republican Platform 2016 (approved July 2016) (similar). Would a “Support Our Troops” shirt be banned, if one of the candidates or parties had expressed a view on military funding or aid for veterans? What about a “#MeToo” shirt, referencing the movement to increase awareness of sexual harassment and assault? At oral argument, the State indicated that the ban would cover such an item if a candidate had “brought up” the topic. Tr. of Oral Arg. 64–65.

The next broad category in the Election Day Policy—any item “promoting a group with recognizable political views,” App. to Pet. for Cert. I–2—makes matters worse. The State construes the category as limited to groups with “views” about “the issues confronting voters in a given election.” Brief for Respondents 23. The State does not, however, confine that category to groups that have endorsed a candidate or taken a position on a ballot question.

Any number of associations, educational institutions, businesses, and religious organizations could have an opinion on an “issue[ ] confronting voters in a given election.” For instance, the American Civil Liberties Union, the AARP, the World Wildlife Fund, and Ben & Jerry’s all have stated positions on matters of public concern.[5] If the views of those groups align or conflict with the position of a candidate or party on the ballot, does that mean that their insignia are banned? See id., at 24, n. 15 (representing that “AFL–CIO or Chamber of Commerce apparel” would be banned if those organizations “had objectively recognizable views on an issue in the election at hand”). Take another example: In the run-up to the 2012 election, Presidential candidates of both major parties issued public statements regarding the then-existing policy of the Boy Scouts of America to exclude members on the basis of sexual orientation.[6] Should a Scout leader in 2012 stopping to vote on his way to a troop meeting have been asked to cover up his uniform?

The State emphasizes that the ban covers only apparel promoting groups whose political positions are sufficiently “well-known.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 37. But that requirement, if anything, only increases the potential for erratic application. Well known by whom? The State tells us the lodestar is the “typical observer” of the item. Brief for Respondents 21. But that measure may turn in significant part on the background knowledge and media consumption of the particular election judge applying it.

The State’s “electoral choices” standard, considered together with the nonexclusive examples in the Election Day Policy, poses riddles that even the State’s top lawyers struggle to solve. A shirt declaring “All Lives Matter,” we are told, could be “perceived” as political. Tr. of Oral Arg. 41. How about a shirt bearing the name of the National Rifle Association? Definitely out. Id., at 39–40. That said, a shirt displaying a rainbow flag could be worn “unless there was an issue on the ballot” that “related somehow . . . to gay rights.” Id., at 38 (emphasis added). A shirt simply displaying the text of the Second Amendment? Prohibited. Id., at 40. But a shirt with the text of the First Amendment? “It would be allowed.” Ibid.

“[P]erfect clarity and precise guidance have never been required even of regulations that restrict expressive activ- ity.” Ward v. Rock Against Racism, 491 U. S. 781, 794 (1989). But the State’s difficulties with its restriction go beyond close calls on borderline or fanciful cases. And that is a serious matter when the whole point of the exercise is to prohibit the expression of political views.

It is “self-evident” that an indeterminate prohibition carries with it “[t]he opportunity for abuse, especially where [it] has received a virtually open-ended interpretation.” Jews for Jesus, 482 U. S., at 576; see Heffron v. International Soc. for Krishna Consciousness, Inc., 452 U. S. 640, 649 (1981) (warning of the “more covert forms of discrimination that may result when arbitrary discretion is vested in some governmental authority”). Election judges “have the authority to decide what is political” when screening individuals at the entrance to the polls. App. to Pet. for Cert. I–1. We do not doubt that the vast majority of election judges strive to enforce the statute in an evenhanded manner, nor that some degree of discretion in this setting is necessary. But that discretion must be guided by objective, workable standards. Without them, an election judge’s own politics may shape his views on what counts as “political.” And if voters experience or witness episodes of unfair or inconsistent enforcement of the ban, the State’s interest in maintaining a polling place free of distraction and disruption would be undermined by the very measure intended to further it.

That is not to say that Minnesota has set upon an impossible task. Other States have laws proscribing displays (including apparel) in more lucid terms. See, e.g., Cal. Elec. Code Ann. §319.5 (West Cum. Supp. 2018) (prohibiting “the visible display . . . of information that advocates for or against any candidate or measure,” including the “display of a candidate’s name, likeness, or logo,” the “display of a ballot measure’s number, title, subject, or logo,” and “[b]uttons, hats,” or “shirts” containing such information); Tex. Elec. Code Ann. §61.010(a) (West 2010) (prohibiting the wearing of “a badge, insignia, emblem, or other similar communicative device relating to a candidate, measure, or political party appearing on the ballot, or to the conduct of the election”). We do not suggest that such provisions set the outer limit of what a State may proscribe, and do not pass on the constitutionality of laws that are not before us. But we do hold that if a State wishes to set its polling places apart as areas free of partisan discord, it must employ a more discernible approach than the one Minnesota has offered here.[7]

*  *  *

Cases like this “present[ ] us with a particularly difficult reconciliation: the accommodation of the right to engage in political discourse with the right to vote.” Burson, 504 U. S., at 198 (plurality opinion). Minnesota, like other States, has sought to strike the balance in a way that affords the voter the opportunity to exercise his civic duty in a setting removed from the clamor and din of electioneering. While that choice is generally worthy of our respect, Minnesota has not supported its good intentions with a law capable of reasoned application.

The judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

APPENDIX

 

State Laws Prohibiting Accessories or Apparel in the Polling Place[8]*

Notes

1  The State of Tennessee represented that its prohibition on campaign displays extended both to items of apparel and to voters. Tr. of Oral Arg. in No. 90–1056, p. 33 (argument of Atty. Gen. Burson) (explaining that the statute banned “[t]ee-shirts,” “campaign buttons,” and “hats” because such items “implicate and invite the same problems,” and that voters would be “asked to take campaign button[s] off as they go in”); see Brief for State of Tennessee et al. as Amici Curiae 3, 28–30, and n. 3 (making the same representation in the present case). The Burson plaintiff also emphasized that the Tennessee law would cover apparel, including apparel worn by voters, see Brief for Respondent in No. 90–1056, p. 3; Tr. of Oral Arg. in No. 90–1056, p. 21, and Justice Stevens in dissent referred to the application of the law to campaign buttons, see Burson, 504 U. S., at 218–219, 224.
2  See, e.g., Ala. Secretary of State, 2018 Alabama Voter Guide 14 (voters may wear “campaign buttons or T-shirts with political advertisements”); 2018 Va. Acts ch. 700, §1 (prohibitions on exhibiting campaign material “shall not be construed” to prohibit a voter “from wearing a shirt, hat, or other apparel on which a candidate’s name or a political slogan appears or from having a sticker or button attached to his apparel on which a candidate’s name or a political slogan appears”); R. I. Bd. of Elections, Rules and Regulations for Polling Place Conduct 3 (2016) (voters may “display or wear any campaign or political party button, badge or other document or item designed or tending to aid, injure or defeat any candidate for public office or any political party or any question,” but they must “immediately exit the polling location without unreasonable delay” after voting).
3  See Appendix, infra.
4  The State also maintains that the “Please I. D. Me” buttons were properly banned because the buttons were designed to confuse other voters about whether they needed photo identification to vote. Brief for Respondents 46–47. We do not doubt that the State may prohibit messages intended to mislead voters about voting requirements and procedures. But that interest does not align with the State’s construction of “political” to refer to messages “about the electoral choices at issue in [the] polling place.” Id., at 13.
5  See, e.g., American Civil Liberties Union, Campaign for Smart Justice (2018), online at http://www.aclu.org/issues/mass-incarceration/smart-justice/campaign-smart-justice (taking positions on criminal justice reform) (all Internet materials as last visited June 11, 2018); AARP, Government & Elections, online at https://www.aarp.org/politics-society/government-elections/ (listing positions on Social Secu-rity and health care); World Wildlife Fund, A Win on Capitol Hill (Apr. 17, 2018), online at https://www.worldwildlife.org/stories/a-win-on-capitol-hill (describing the organization’s position on federal funding for international conservation programs); Ben & Jerry’s, Issues We Care About, online at https://www.benjerry.com/values/issues-we-care-about (sharing the corporation’s views on campaign finance reform, international conflict, and civil rights).
6  C. Camia, Obama, Romney Opposed to Boy Scouts Ban on Gays, USA Today OnPolitics (updated Aug. 08, 2012), online at http : / / content.usatoday.com/communities/onpolitics/post/2012/08/barack-obama-boy-scouts-gays-mitt-romney-/1.
7  The State argues that, in the event this Court concludes that there is a “substantial question” about the proper interpretation of §211B.11(1), we should postpone our decision and certify that issue to the Minnesota Supreme Court. Brief for Respondents 57; see Minn. Stat. §480.065(3) (2016). The dissent takes up this cause as well. See post, at 1 (opinion of Sotomayor, J.). The decision to certify, however, “rests in the sound discretion of the federal court.” Expressions Hair Design v. Schneiderman, 581 U. S. ___, ___ (2017) (Sotomayor, J., concurring in judgment) (slip op., at 8). We decline to exercise that discretion in this instance. Minnesota’s request for certification comes very late in the day: This litigation had been ongoing in the federal courts for over seven years before the State made its certification request in its merits brief before this Court. See Stenberg v. Carhart, 530 U. S. 914, 945 (2000) (noting, in denying certification, that the State had never asked the lower federal courts to certify). And the State has not offered sufficient reason to believe that certification would obviate the need to address the constitutional question. Our analysis today reflects the State’s proffered interpretation; nothing in that analysis would change if the State’s interpretation were also adopted by the Minnesota Supreme Court. Nor has the State (or the dissent) suggested a viable alternative construction that the Minnesota Supreme Court might adopt instead. See Brief for Respondents 56–58; post, at 5–8.
8 * Based on statutory or regulatory language and official resources, where available.
 

Dissent

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

No. 16–1435

_________________

MINNESOTA VOTERS ALLIANCE, et al., PETITIONERS v. JOE MANSKY, et al.

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the eighth circuit

[June 14, 2018]

 

Justice Sotomayor, with whom Justice Breyer joins, dissenting.

I agree with the Court that “[c]asting a vote is a weighty civic act” and that “State[s] may reasonably take steps to ensure that partisan discord not follow the voter up to the voting booth,” including by “prohibit[ing] certain apparel [in polling places] because of the message it conveys.” Ante, at 11–12. I disagree, however, with the Court’s decision to declare Minnesota’s political apparel ban unconstitutional on its face because, in its view, the ban is not “capable of reasoned application,” ante, at 19, when the Court has not first afforded the Minnesota state courts “ ‘a reasonable opportunity to pass upon’ ” and construe the statute, Babbitt v. Farm Workers, 442 U. S. 289, 308 (1979). I would certify this case to the Minnesota Supreme Court for a definitive interpretation of the political apparel ban under Minn. Stat. §211B.11(1) (Supp. 2017), which likely would obviate the hypothetical line-drawing problems that form the basis of the Court’s decision today.

I

As the Court acknowledges, Minnesota adopted its political apparel ban late in the 19th century against the backdrop of often “ ‘chaotic’ ” voting conditions where “[c]rowds would gather to heckle and harass voters who appeared to be supporting the other side.” Ante, at 2. Polling places became “highly charged ethnic, religious, and ideological battleground[s] in which individuals were stereotyped as friend or foe,” even “on the basis of clothing.” R. Bensel, The American Ballot Box in the Mid-Nineteenth Century 21 (2004). As a result, States began adopting reforms “to address these vulnerabilities and improve the reliability of elections.” Ante, at 3.

Minnesota thus enacted the political apparel ban at issue in this case, which prohibits an individual from wearing “[a] political badge, political button, or other political insignia . . . at or about the polling place.” §211B.11(1). Respondents maintain that this prohibition, together with other election-day regulations, furthers Minnesota’s compelling interests in (1) “maintaining peace, order and decorum in the polling place,” (2) “protecting voters from confusion and undue influence such as intimidation,” and (3) “preserving the integrity of its election process.” Brief for Respondents 41 (internal quotation marks and alterations omitted); see Burson v. Freeman, 504 U. S. 191, 193, 199 (1992) (plurality opinion) (recognizing such interests as compelling).

The majority accords due respect to the weight of these state interests in concluding that there is “no basis for rejecting Minnesota’s determination that some forms of advocacy should be excluded from the polling place, to set it aside as ‘an island of calm in which voters can peacefully contemplate their choices.’ ” Ante, at 11. Polling places today may not much resemble the chaotic scenes of the turn of the 20th century, but they remain vulnerable to interpersonal conflicts and partisan efforts to influence voters.[1] Even acts of interference that are “undetected or less than blatant . . . may nonetheless drive the voter away before remedial action can be taken.” Burson, 504 U. S., at 207; see also Brief for Campaign Legal Center as Amicus Curiae 9 (noting that, “[a]bsent a ban on political paraphernalia, [poll] workers might unintentionally exhibit unconscious bias against voters who wear the ‘wrong’ paraphernalia”).

In holding that a polling place constitutes a nonpublic forum and that a State must establish only that its limitations on speech inside the polling place are reasonable, see ante, at 8–9, the Court goes a long way in preserving States’ discretion to determine what measures are appropriate to further important interests in maintaining order and decorum, preventing confusion and intimidation, and protecting the integrity of the voting process. The Court errs, however, in declaring Minnesota’s political apparel ban unconstitutional under that standard, without any guidance from the State’s highest court on the proper interpretation of that state law. Ante, at 13, 19, n. 7.

II

The Court invalidates Minnesota’s political apparel ban based on its inability to define the term “political” in §211B.11(1), so as to discern “some sensible basis for distinguishing what may come in from what must stay out” of a polling place. Ante, at 12–13. The majority believes that the law is not “capable of reasoned application,” ante, at 19, but it reaches that conclusion without taking the preferential step of first asking the state courts to provide “an accurate picture of how, exactly, the statute works,” Expressions Hair Design v. Schneiderman, 581 U. S. ___, ___ (2017) (Sotomayor, J., concurring in judgment) (slip op., at 5). It is a “cardinal principle” that, “when confronting a challenge to the constitutionality of a . . . statute,” courts “will first ascertain whether a construction . . . is fairly possible that will contain the statute within constitutional bounds,” and in the context of a challenge to a state statute, federal courts should be particularly hesitant to speculate as to possible constructions of the state law when “the state courts stand willing to address questions of state law on certification.” Arizonans for Official English v. Arizona, 520 U. S. 43, 78–79 (1997) (internal quotation marks omitted); see Minn. Stat. §480.065(3) (2016) (authorizing the Minnesota Supreme Court to answer certified questions). Certification “save[s] time, energy, and resources and helps build a cooperative judicial federalism.” Lehman Brothers v. Schein, 416 U. S. 386, 391 (1974). Neither of the majority’s proffered reasons for declining to certify this case justifies its holding.

First, the Court notes that respondents’ “request for certification comes very late in the day,” as the litigation already had been ongoing for more than seven years before the request. Ante, at 19, n. 7. But certification is not an argument subject to forfeiture by the parties. It is a tool of the federal courts that serves to avoid “friction-generating error” where a federal court attempts to construe a statute “not yet reviewed by the State’s highest court.” Arizonans for Official English, 520 U. S., at 79. This Court has certified questions to a state court “sua sponte, even though the parties had not sought such relief and even though the district court and the court of appeals previously had resolved the disputed point of state law.” S. Shapiro, K. Geller, T. Bishop, E. Hartnett, & D. Himmelfarb, Supreme Court Practice §9.4, p. 611 (10th ed. 2013) (citing Elkins v. Moreno, 435 U. S. 647, 660–663, 668–669 (1978)); see also Massachusetts v. Feeney, 429 U. S. 66 (1976) (per curiam) (certifying a question to the Supreme Judicial Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts “on [the Court’s] own motion”). Respondents’ delay in asking for certification does nothing to alter this Court’s responsibility as a matter of state-federal comity to give due deference to the state courts in interpreting their own laws.

Second, the majority maintains that respondents have “not offered sufficient reason to believe that certification would obviate the need to address the constitutional question,” as “nothing in [its] analysis would change if [respondents’] interpretation were also adopted by the Minnesota Supreme Court.” Ante, at 19, n. 7. The majority also relies on its view that respondents have not “suggested a viable alternative construction that the Minnesota Supreme Court might adopt instead.” Ibid. To presume that the Minnesota Supreme Court would adopt respondents’ interpretation wholesale or that it could not provide a construction of its own that is “capable of reasoned application,” ante, at 19, however, reflects precisely the “gratuitous” “ ‘[s]peculation . . . about the meaning of a state statute’ ” that this Court has discouraged, Arizonans for Official English, 520 U. S., at 79.

It is at least “fairly possible” that the state court could “ascertain . . . a construction . . . that will contain the statute within constitutional bounds.” Id., at 78 (internal quotation marks omitted). Ultimately, the issue comes down to the meaning of the adjective “political,” as used to describe what constitutes a “political badge, political button, or other political insignia.” §211B.11(1). The word “political” is, of course, not inherently incapable of definition. This Court elsewhere has encountered little difficulty discerning its meaning in the context of statutes subject to First Amendment challenges. See, e.g., Civil Service Comm’n v. Letter Carriers, 413 U. S. 548, 550–551 (1973) (rejecting First Amendment overbreadth and vagueness challenge to §9(a) of the Hatch Act, then codified at 5 U. S. C. §7324(a)(2), which prohibited federal employees from taking “ ‘an active part in political management or in political campaigns’ ”); Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U. S. 601, 602 (1973) (rejecting First Amendment overbreadth and vagueness challenge to a similar Oklahoma law that “restricts the political activities of the State’s classified civil servants”).

Even here, the majority recognizes a substantial amount of speech that “clear[ly]” qualifies as “political,” such as “items displaying the name of a political party, items displaying the name of a candidate, and items demonstrating support of or opposition to a ballot question.” Ante, at 14 (internal quotation marks omitted). The fact that the majority has some difficulty deciphering guidance to §211B.11(1) that also proscribes “[i]ssue oriented material designed to influence or impact voting” and “[m]aterial promoting a group with recognizable political views,” App. to Pet. for Cert. I–2; see ante, at 14–17, does not mean that the statute as a whole is not subject to a construction that falls within constitutional bounds. As this Court has made clear in the context of the First Amendment overbreadth doctrine, the “mere fact” that petitioners “can conceive of some impermissible applications of [the] statute is not sufficient to render it” unconstitutional. United States v. Williams, 553 U. S. 285, 303 (2008) (internal quotation marks omitted). That is especially so where the state court is capable of clarifying the boundaries of state law in a manner that would permit the Court to engage in a comprehensive constitutional analysis. See, e.g., Virginia v. American Booksellers Assn., Inc., 484 U. S. 383 (1988) (certifying questions to the Virginia Supreme Court for clarification as to whether a state statute was readily susceptible to a narrowing construction that would not violate the First Amendment); Commonwealth v. American Booksellers Assn., Inc., 236 Va. 168, 372 S. E. 2d 618 (1988) (responding to certification with such a narrowing construction).

Furthermore, the Court also should consider the history of Minnesota’s “implementation” of the statute in evaluating the facial challenge here. Forsyth County v. Nationalist Movement, 505 U. S. 123, 131 (1992). That history offers some assurance that the statute has not been interpreted or applied in an unreasonable manner. There is no evidence that any individual who refused to remove a political item has been prohibited from voting, and respondents maintain that no one has been referred for prosecution for violating the provision. See Brief for Respondents 4, n. 2. Since the political apparel ban was enacted in the late 19th century, this is the first time the statute has been challenged on the basis that certain speech is not “political.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 44. Even then, petitioners’ as-applied challenge was rejected by the District Court and the Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit. See Minnesota Majority v. Mansky, 62 F. Supp. 3d 870, 878 (Minn. 2014); Minnesota Majority v. Mansky, 2015 WL 13636675, *12 (D Minn., Mar. 23, 2015); Minnesota Majority v. Mansky, 849 F. 3d 749, 752–753 (CA8 2017). Petitioners did not seek review of those claims in this Court. See Pet. for Cert. i. On the whole, the historical application of the law helps illustrate that the statute is not so “indeterminate” so as to “carr[y] with it ‘[t]he opportunity for abuse.’ ” Ante, at 17.

III

Especially where there are undisputedly many constitutional applications of a state law that further weighty state interests, the Court should be wary of invalidating a law without giving the State’s highest court an opportunity to pass upon it. See Babbitt, 442 U. S., at 309; Arizonans for Official English, 520 U. S., at 79. Because the Court declines to take the obvious step of certification in this case, I respectfully dissent.

Notes

1  See, e.g., J. Johnson, Fight Breaks Out at Polling Place (Nov. 8, 2016) (describing a fight in which a voter sprayed pepper spray at a campaign volunteer who allegedly had been handing out campaign materials), http://www.wpbf.com/article/fight-breaks-out-at-polling-place/8258506 (all Internet materials as last visited June 8, 2018); R. Reilly, A Guy in a Trump Shirt Carried a Gun Outside of a Virginia Polling Place. Authorities Say That’s Fine (Nov. 4, 2016) (describing a man wearing a shirt bearing the name of a candidate and carrying a weapon outside of a polling place), https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/trump-supporter - gun -voter-intimidation-virginia_us_581cf16ee4b0aac624846eb5; Houston Chronicle, Nov. 5, 2012, p. 2 (reporting that individuals wearing shirts bearing the name of a racial equality organization allegedly were “disruptive,” “took over” a polling place, and were “electioneering and voicing support” for a particular candidate); Orlando Sentinel, Nov. 8, 2006, p. A5 (reporting arrest of a poll worker who was “charged with assault and interfering with an election after allegedly choking a voter and pushing him out the door”); Orlando Sentinel, Mar. 2, 2005, p. B1 (reporting “[s]houting matches and rowdy behavior” and “harass[ment] and intimidat[ion] at the polls”).

15.38 Janus v. AFSCME 15.38 Janus v. AFSCME

585 U.S. ___ (2018)

Syllabus

NOTE: Where it is feasible, a syllabus (headnote) will be released, as is being done in connection with this case, at the time the opinion is issued. The syllabus constitutes no part of the opinion of the Court but has been prepared by the Reporter of Decisions for the convenience of the reader. See United States v. Detroit Timber & Lumber Co., 200 U. S. 321, 337.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

Syllabus

Janus v. American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees, Council 31, et al.

certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the seventh circuit

No. 16–1466. Argued February 26, 2018—Decided June 27, 2018

Illinois law permits public employees to unionize. If a majority of the employees in a bargaining unit vote to be represented by a union, that union is designated as the exclusive representative of all the employees, even those who do not join. Only the union may engage in collective bargaining; individual employees may not be represented by another agent or negotiate directly with their employer. Nonmembers are required to pay what is generally called an “agency fee,” i.e., a percentage of the full union dues. Under Abood v. Detroit Bd. of Ed., 431 U. S. 209, 235–236, this fee may cover union expenditures attributable to those activities “germane” to the union’s collective-bargaining activities (chargeable expenditures), but may not cover the union’s political and ideological projects (nonchargeable expenditures). The union sets the agency fee annually and then sends nonmembers a notice explaining the basis for the fee and the breakdown of expenditures. Here it was 78.06% of full union dues.

Petitioner Mark Janus is a state employee whose unit is represented by a public-sector union (Union), one of the respondents. He refused to join the Union because he opposes many of its positions, including those taken in collective bargaining. Illinois’ Governor, similarly opposed to many of these positions, filed suit challenging the constitutionality of the state law authorizing agency fees. The state attorney general, another respondent, intervened to defend the law, while Janus moved to intervene on the Governor’s side. The District Court dismissed the Governor’s challenge for lack of standing, but it simultaneously allowed Janus to file his own complaint challenging the constitutionality of agency fees. The District Court granted respondents’ motion to dismiss on the ground that the claim was foreclosed by Abood. The Seventh Circuit affirmed.

Held:

1. The District Court had jurisdiction over petitioner’s suit. Petitioner was undisputedly injured in fact by Illinois’ agency-fee scheme and his injuries can be redressed by a favorable court decision. For jurisdictional purposes, the court permissibly treated his amended complaint in intervention as the operative complaint in a new lawsuit. United States ex rel. Texas Portland Cement Co. v. McCord, 233 U. S. 157, distinguished. Pp. 6–7.

2. The State’s extraction of agency fees from nonconsenting public-sector employees violates the First Amendment. Abood erred in concluding otherwise, and stare decisis cannot support it. Abood is therefore overruled. Pp. 7–47.

(a) Abood’s holding is inconsistent with standard First Amendment principles. Pp. 7–18.

(1) Forcing free and independent individuals to endorse ideas they find objectionable raises serious First Amendment concerns. E.g., West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 633. That includes compelling a person to subsidize the speech of other private speakers. E.g., Knox v. Service Employees, 567 U. S. 298, 309. In Knox and Harris v. Quinn, 573 U. S. ___, the Court applied an “exacting” scrutiny standard in judging the constitutionality of agency fees rather than the more traditional strict scrutiny. Even under the more permissive standard, Illinois’ scheme cannot survive. Pp. 7–11.

(2) Neither of Abood’s two justifications for agency fees passes muster under this standard. First, agency fees cannot be upheld on the ground that they promote an interest in “labor peace.” The Abood Court’s fears of conflict and disruption if employees were represented by more than one union have proved to be unfounded: Exclusive representation of all the employees in a unit and the exaction of agency fees are not inextricably linked. To the contrary, in the Federal Government and the 28 States with laws prohibiting agency fees, millions of public employees are represented by unions that effectively serve as the exclusive representatives of all the employees. Whatever may have been the case 41 years ago when Abood was decided, it is thus now undeniable that “labor peace” can readily be achieved through less restrictive means than the assessment of agency fees.

Second, avoiding “the risk of ‘free riders,’ ” Abood, supra, at 224, is not a compelling state interest. Free-rider “arguments . . . are generally insufficient to overcome First Amendment objections,” Knox, supra, at 311, and the statutory requirement that unions represent members and nonmembers alike does not justify different treatment. As is evident in non-agency-fee jurisdictions, unions are quite willing to represent nonmembers in the absence of agency fees. And their duty of fair representation is a necessary concomitant of the authority that a union seeks when it chooses to be the exclusive representative. In any event, States can avoid free riders through less restrictive means than the imposition of agency fees. Pp. 11–18.

(b) Respondents’ alternative justifications for Abood are similarly unavailing. Pp. 18–26.

(1) The Union claims that Abood is supported by the First Amendment’s original meaning. But neither founding-era evidence nor dictum in Connick v. Myers, 461 U. S. 138, 143, supports the view that the First Amendment was originally understood to allow States to force public employees to subsidize a private third party. If anything, the opposite is true. Pp. 18–22.

(2) Nor does Pickering v. Board of Ed. of Township High School Dist. 205, Will Cty., 391 U. S. 563, provide a basis for Abood. Abood was not based on Pickering, and for good reasons. First, Pickering’s framework was developed for use in cases involving “one employee’s speech and its impact on that employee’s public responsibilities,” United States v. Treasury Employees, 513 U. S. 454, 467, while Abood and other agency-fee cases involve a blanket requirement that all employees subsidize private speech with which they may not agree. Second, Pickering’s framework was designed to determine whether a public employee’s speech interferes with the effective operation of a government office, not what happens when the government compels speech or speech subsidies in support of third parties. Third, the categorization schemes of Pickering and Abood do not line up. For example, under Abood, nonmembers cannot be charged for speech that concerns political or ideological issues; but under Pickering, an employee’s free speech interests on such issues could be overcome if outweighed by the employer’s interests. Pp. 22–26.

(c) Even under some form of Pickering, Illinois’ agency-fee arrangement would not survive. Pp. 26–33.

(1) Respondents compare union speech in collective bargaining and grievance proceedings to speech “pursuant to [an employee’s] official duties,” Garcetti v. Ceballos, 547 U. S. 410, 421, which the State may require of its employees. But in those situations, the employee’s words are really the words of the employer, whereas here the union is speaking on behalf of the employees. Garcetti therefore does not apply. Pp. 26–27.

(2) Nor does the union speech at issue cover only matters of private concern, which the State may also generally regulate under Pickering. To the contrary, union speech covers critically important and public matters such as the State’s budget crisis, taxes, and collective bargaining issues related to education, child welfare, healthcare, and minority rights. Pp. 27–31.

(3) The government’s proffered interests must therefore justify the heavy burden of agency fees on nonmembers’ First Amendment interests. They do not. The state interests asserted in Abood—promoting “labor peace” and avoiding free riders—clearly do not, as explained earlier. And the new interests asserted in Harris and here—bargaining with an adequately funded agent and improving the efficiency of the work force—do not suffice either. Experience shows that unions can be effective even without agency fees. Pp. 31–33.

(d) Stare decisis does not require retention of Abood. An analysis of several important factors that should be taken into account in deciding whether to overrule a past decision supports this conclusion. Pp. 33–47.

(1) Abood was poorly reasoned, and those arguing for retaining it have recast its reasoning, which further undermines its stare decisis effect, e.g.Citizens United v. Federal Election Comm’n, 558 U. S. 310, 363. Abood relied on Railway Employes v. Hanson, 351 U. S. 225, and Machinists v. Street, 367 U. S. 740, both of which involved private-sector collective-bargaining agreements where the government merely authorized agency fees. Abood did not appreciate the very different First Amendment question that arises when a State requires its employees to pay agency fees. Abood also judged the constitutionality of public-sector agency fees using Hanson’s deferential standard, which is inappropriate in deciding free speech issues. Nor did Abood take into account the difference between the effects of agency fees in public- and private-sector collective bargaining, anticipate administrative problems with classifying union expenses as chargeable or nonchargeable, foresee practical problems faced by nonmembers wishing to challenge those decisions, or understand the inherently political nature of public-sector bargaining. Pp. 35–38.

(2) Abood’s lack of workability also weighs against it. Its line between chargeable and nonchargeable expenditures has proved to be impossible to draw with precision, as even respondents recognize. See, e.g.Lehnert v. Ferris Faculty Assn., 500 U. S. 507, 519. What is more, a nonmember objecting to union chargeability determinations will have much trouble determining the accuracy of the union’s reported expenditures, which are often expressed in extremely broad and vague terms. Pp. 38–41.

(3) Developments since Abood, both factual and legal, have “eroded” the decision’s “underpinnings” and left it an outlier among the Court’s First Amendment cases. United States v. Gaudin, 515 U. S. 506, 521. Abood relied on an assumption that “the principle of exclusive representation in the public sector is dependent on a union or agency shop,” Harris, 573 U. S., at ___–___, but experience has shown otherwise. It was also decided when public-sector unionism was a relatively new phenomenon. Today, however, public-sector union membership has surpassed that in the private sector, and that ascendency corresponds with a parallel increase in public spending. Abood is also an anomaly in the Court’s First Amendment jurisprudence, where exacting scrutiny, if not a more demanding standard, generally applies. Overruling Abood will also end the oddity of allowing public employers to compel union support (which is not supported by any tradition) but not to compel party support (which is supported by tradition), see, e.g.Elrod v. Burns, 427 U. S. 347. Pp. 42–44.

(4) Reliance on Abood does not carry decisive weight. The uncertain status of Abood, known to unions for years; the lack of clarity it provides; the short-term nature of collective-bargaining agreements; and the ability of unions to protect themselves if an agency-fee provision was crucial to its bargain undermine the force of reliance. Pp. 44–47.

3. For these reasons, States and public-sector unions may no longer extract agency fees from nonconsenting employees. The First Amendment is violated when money is taken from nonconsenting employees for a public-sector union; employees must choose to support the union before anything is taken from them. Accordingly, neither an agency fee nor any other form of payment to a public-sector union may be deducted from an employee, nor may any other attempt be made to collect such a payment, unless the employee affirmatively consents to pay. Pp. 48–49.

851 F. 3d 746, reversed and remanded.

Alito, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Roberts, C. J., and Kennedy, Thomas, and, Gorsuch, JJ., joined. Sotomayor, J., filed a dissenting opinion. Kagan, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Ginsburg, Breyer, and Sotomayor, JJ., joined.

 

Opinion

NOTICE: This opinion is subject to formal revision before publication in the preliminary print of the United States Reports. Readers are requested to notify the Reporter of Decisions, Supreme Court of the United States, Washington, D. C. 20543, of any typographical or other formal errors, in order that corrections may be made before the preliminary print goes to press.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

No. 16–1466

_________________

MARK JANUS, PETITIONER v. AMERICAN FEDER- ATION OF STATE, COUNTY, AND MUNICIPAL EMPLOYEES, COUNCIL 31, et al.

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the seventh circuit

[June 27, 2018]

 

Justice Alito delivered the opinion of the Court.

Under Illinois law, public employees are forced to subsidize a union, even if they choose not to join and strongly object to the positions the union takes in collective bargaining and related activities. We conclude that this arrangement violates the free speech rights of nonmembers by compelling them to subsidize private speech on matters of substantial public concern.

We upheld a similar law in Abood v. Detroit Bd. of Ed., 431 U. S. 209 (1977), and we recognize the importance of following precedent unless there are strong reasons for not doing so. But there are very strong reasons in this case. Fundamental free speech rights are at stake. Abood was poorly reasoned. It has led to practical problems and abuse. It is inconsistent with other First Amendment cases and has been undermined by more recent decisions. Developments since Abood was handed down have shed new light on the issue of agency fees, and no reliance interests on the part of public-sector unions are sufficient to justify the perpetuation of the free speech violations that Abood has countenanced for the past 41 years. Abood is therefore overruled.

I

A

Under the Illinois Public Labor Relations Act (IPLRA), employees of the State and its political subdivisions are permitted to unionize. See Ill. Comp. Stat., ch. 5, §315/6(a) (West 2016). If a majority of the employees in a bargaining unit vote to be represented by a union, that union is designated as the exclusive representative of all the employees. §§315/3(s)(1), 315/6(c), 315/9. Employees in the unit are not obligated to join the union selected by their co-workers, but whether they join or not, that union is deemed to be their sole permitted representative. See §§315/6(a), (c).

Once a union is so designated, it is vested with broad authority. Only the union may negotiate with the employer on matters relating to “pay, wages, hours[,] and other conditions of employment.” §315/6(c). And this authority extends to the negotiation of what the IPLRA calls “policy matters,” such as merit pay, the size of the work force, layoffs, privatization, promotion methods, and non-discrimination policies. §315/4; see §315/6(c); see gener- ally, e.g.Illinois Dept. of Central Management Servs. v. AFSCME, Council 31, No. S–CB–16–17 etc., 33 PERI ¶67 (ILRB Dec. 13, 2016) (Board Decision).

Designating a union as the employees’ exclusive representative substantially restricts the rights of individual employees. Among other things, this designation means that individual employees may not be represented by any agent other than the designated union; nor may individual employees negotiate directly with their employer. §§315/6(c)–(d), 315/10(a)(4); see Matthews v. Chicago Transit Authority, 2016 IL 117638, 51 N. E. 3d 753, 782; accord, Medo Photo Supply Corp. v. NLRB, 321 U. S. 678, 683–684 (1944). Protection of the employees’ interests is placed in the hands of the union, and therefore the union is required by law to provide fair representation for all employees in the unit, members and nonmembers alike. §315/6(d).

Employees who decline to join the union are not assessed full union dues but must instead pay what is generally called an “agency fee,” which amounts to a percentage of the union dues. Under Abood, nonmembers may be charged for the portion of union dues attributable to activities that are “germane to [the union’s] duties as collective-bargaining representative,” but nonmembers may not be required to fund the union’s political and ideological projects. 431 U. S., at 235; see id., at 235–236. In labor-law parlance, the outlays in the first category are known as “chargeable” expenditures, while those in the latter are labeled “nonchargeable.”

Illinois law does not specify in detail which expenditures are chargeable and which are not. The IPLRA provides that an agency fee may compensate a union for the costs incurred in “the collective bargaining process, contract administration[,] and pursuing matters affecting wages, hours[,] and conditions of employment.” §315/6(e); see also §315/3(g). Excluded from the agency-fee calculation are union expenditures “related to the election or support of any candidate for political office.” §315/3(g); see §315/6(e).

Applying this standard, a union categorizes its expenditures as chargeable or nonchargeable and thus determines a nonmember’s “proportionate share,” §315/6(e); this determination is then audited; the amount of the “proportionate share” is certified to the employer; and the employer automatically deducts that amount from the nonmembers’ wages. See ibid.; App. to Pet. for Cert. 37a; see also Harris v. Quinn, 573 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2014) (slip op., at 19–20) (describing this process). Nonmembers need not be asked, and they are not required to consent before the fees are deducted.

After the amount of the agency fee is fixed each year, the union must send nonmembers what is known as a Hudson notice. See Teachers v. Hudson, 475 U. S. 292 (1986). This notice is supposed to provide nonmembers with “an adequate explanation of the basis for the [agency] fee.” Id., at 310. If nonmembers “suspect that a union has improperly put certain expenses in the [chargeable] category,” they may challenge that determination. Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 19).

As illustrated by the record in this case, unions charge nonmembers, not just for the cost of collective bargaining per se, but also for many other supposedly connected activities. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 28a–39a. Here, the nonmembers were told that they had to pay for “[l]obbying,” “[s]ocial and recreational activities,” “advertising,” “[m]embership meetings and conventions,” and “litigation,” as well as other unspecified “[s]ervices” that “may ultimately inure to the benefit of the members of the local bargaining unit.” Id., at 28a–32a. The total chargeable amount for nonmembers was 78.06% of full union dues. Id., at 34a.

B

Petitioner Mark Janus is employed by the Illinois Department of Healthcare and Family Services as a child support specialist. Id., at 10a. The employees in his unit are among the 35,000 public employees in Illinois who are represented by respondent American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees, Council 31 (Union). Ibid. Janus refused to join the Union because he opposes “many of the public policy positions that [it] advocates,” including the positions it takes in collective bargaining. Id., at 10a, 18a. Janus believes that the Union’s “behavior in bargaining does not appreciate the current fiscal crises in Illinois and does not reflect his best interests or the interests of Illinois citizens.” Id., at 18a. Therefore, if he had the choice, he “would not pay any fees or otherwise subsidize [the Union].” Ibid. Under his unit’s collective-bargaining agreement, however, he was required to pay an agency fee of $44.58 per month, id., at 14a—which would amount to about $535 per year.

Janus’s concern about Illinois’ current financial situation is shared by the Governor of the State, and it was the Governor who initially challenged the statute authorizing the imposition of agency fees. The Governor commenced an action in federal court, asking that the law be declared unconstitutional, and the Illinois attorney general (a respondent here) intervened to defend the law. App. 41. Janus and two other state employees also moved to intervene—but on the Governor’s side. Id., at 60.

Respondents moved to dismiss the Governor’s challenge for lack of standing, contending that the agency fees did not cause him any personal injury. E.g., id., at 48–49. The District Court agreed that the Governor could not maintain the lawsuit, but it held that petitioner and the other individuals who had moved to intervene had standing because the agency fees unquestionably injured them. Accordingly, “in the interest of judicial economy,” the court dismissed the Governor as a plaintiff, while simultane- ously allowing petitioner and the other employees to file their own complaint. Id., at 112. They did so, and the case proceeded on the basis of this new complaint.

The amended complaint claims that all “nonmember fee deductions are coerced political speech” and that “the First Amendment forbids coercing any money from the nonmembers.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 23a. Respondents moved to dismiss the amended complaint, correctly recognizing that the claim it asserted was foreclosed by Abood. The District Court granted the motion, id., at 7a, and the Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit affirmed, 851 F. 3d 746 (2017).

Janus then sought review in this Court, asking us to overrule Abood and hold that public-sector agency-fee arrangements are unconstitutional. We granted certiorari to consider this important question. 582 U. S. ___ (2017).

II

Before reaching this question, however, we must con- sider a threshold issue. Respondents contend that the Dis- trict Court lacked jurisdiction under Article III of the Constitution because petitioner “moved to intervene in [the Governor’s] jurisdictionally defective lawsuit.” Union Brief in Opposition 11; see also id., at 13–17; State Brief in Opposition 6; Brief for Union Respondent i, 16–17; Brief for State Respondents 14, n. 1. This argument is clearly wrong.

It rests on the faulty premise that petitioner intervened in the action brought by the Governor, but that is not what happened. The District Court did not grant petitioner’s motion to intervene in that lawsuit. Instead, the court essentially treated petitioner’s amended complaint as the operative complaint in a new lawsuit. App. 110–112. And when the case is viewed in that way, any Article III issue vanishes. As the District Court recognized—and as respondents concede—petitioner was injured in fact by Illinois’ agency-fee scheme, and his injuries can be redressed by a favorable court decision. Ibid.; see Record 2312–2313, 2322–2323. Therefore, he clearly has Article III standing. Lujan v. Defenders of Wildlife, 504 U. S. 555, 560–561 (1992). It is true that the District Court docketed petitioner’s complaint under the number originally assigned to the Governor’s complaint, instead of giving it a new number of its own. But Article III jurisdiction does not turn on such trivialities.

The sole decision on which respondents rely, United States ex rel. Texas Portland Cement Co. v. McCord, 233 U. S. 157 (1914), actually works against them. That case concerned a statute permitting creditors of a government contractor to bring suit on a bond between 6 and 12 months after the completion of the work. Id., at 162. One creditor filed suit before the 6-month starting date, but another intervened within the 6-to-12-month window. The Court held that the “[t]he intervention [did] not cure th[e] vice in the original [prematurely filed] suit,” but the Court also contemplated treating “intervention . . . as an original suit” in a case in which the intervenor met the requirements that a plaintiff must satisfy—e.g., filing a separate complaint and properly serving the defendants. Id., at 163–164. Because that is what petitioner did here, we may reach the merits of the question presented.

III

In Abood, the Court upheld the constitutionality of an agency-shop arrangement like the one now before us, 431 U. S., at 232, but in more recent cases we have recognized that this holding is “something of an anomaly,” Knox v. Service Employees, 567 U. S. 298, 311 (2012), and that Abood’s “analysis is questionable on several grounds,” Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 17); see id., at ___–___ (slip op., at 17–20) (discussing flaws in Abood’s reasoning). We have therefore refused to extend Abood to situations where it does not squarely control, see Harrissupra, at ___–___ (slip op., at 27–29), while leaving for another day the question whether Abood should be overruled, Harrissupra, at ___, n. 19 (slip op., at 27, n. 19); see Knoxsupra, at 310–311.

We now address that question. We first consider whether Abood’s holding is consistent with standard First Amendment principles.

A

The First Amendment, made applicable to the States by the Fourteenth Amendment, forbids abridgment of the freedom of speech. We have held time and again that freedom of speech “includes both the right to speak freely and the right to refrain from speaking at all.” Wooley v. Maynard, 430 U. S. 705, 714 (1977); see Riley v. National Federation of Blind of N. C., Inc., 487 U. S. 781, 796–797 (1988); Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enterprises, 471 U. S. 539, 559 (1985); Miami Herald Publishing Co. v. Tornillo, 418 U. S. 241, 256–257 (1974); accord, Pacific Gas & Elec. Co. v. Public Util. Comm’n of Cal., 475 U. S. 1, 9 (1986) (plurality opinion). The right to eschew association for expressive purposes is likewise protected. Roberts v. United States Jaycees, 468 U. S. 609, 623 (1984) (“Freedom of association . . . plainly presupposes a freedom not to associate”); see Pacific Gas & Elec.supra, at 12 (“[F]orced associations that burden protected speech are impermissible”). As Justice Jackson memorably put it: “If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein.” West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 642 (1943) (emphasis added).

Compelling individuals to mouth support for views they find objectionable violates that cardinal constitutional command, and in most contexts, any such effort would be universally condemned. Suppose, for example, that the State of Illinois required all residents to sign a document expressing support for a particular set of positions on controversial public issues—say, the platform of one of the major political parties. No one, we trust, would seriously argue that the First Amendment permits this.

Perhaps because such compulsion so plainly violates the Constitution, most of our free speech cases have involved restrictions on what can be said, rather than laws compelling speech. But measures compelling speech are at least as threatening.

Free speech serves many ends. It is essential to our democratic form of government, see, e.g.Garrison v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 64, 74–75 (1964), and it furthers the search for truth, see, e.g.Thornhill v. Alabama, 310 U. S. 88, 95 (1940). Whenever the Federal Government or a State prevents individuals from saying what they think on important matters or compels them to voice ideas with which they disagree, it undermines these ends.

When speech is compelled, however, additional damage is done. In that situation, individuals are coerced into betraying their convictions. Forcing free and independent individuals to endorse ideas they find objectionable is always demeaning, and for this reason, one of our landmark free speech cases said that a law commanding “involuntary affirmation” of objected-to beliefs would require “even more immediate and urgent grounds” than a law demanding silence. Barnettesupra, at 633; see also Rileysupra, at 796–797 (rejecting “deferential test” for compelled speech claims).

Compelling a person to subsidize the speech of other private speakers raises similar First Amendment concerns. Knoxsupra, at 309; United States v. United Foods, Inc., 533 U. S. 405, 410 (2001); Aboodsupra, at 222, 234–235. As Jefferson famously put it, “to compel a man to furnish contributions of money for the propagation of opinions which he disbelieves and abhor[s] is sinful and tyrannical.” A Bill for Establishing Religious Freedom, in 2 Papers of Thomas Jefferson 545 (J. Boyd ed. 1950) (emphasis deleted and footnote omitted); see also Hudson, 475 U. S., at 305, n. 15. We have therefore recognized that a “ ‘significant impingement on First Amendment rights’ ” occurs when public employees are required to provide financial support for a union that “takes many positions during collective bargaining that have powerful political and civic consequences.” Knoxsupra, at 310–311 (quoting Ellis v. Railway Clerks, 466 U. S. 435, 455 (1984)).

Because the compelled subsidization of private speech seriously impinges on First Amendment rights, it cannot be casually allowed. Our free speech cases have identified “levels of scrutiny” to be applied in different contexts, and in three recent cases, we have considered the standard that should be used in judging the constitutionality of agency fees. See KnoxsupraHarrissupraFriedrichs v. California Teachers Assn., 578 U. S. ___ (2016) (per cu- riam) (affirming decision below by equally divided Court).

In Knox, the first of these cases, we found it sufficient to hold that the conduct in question was unconstitutional under even the test used for the compulsory subsidization of commercial speech. 567 U. S., at 309–310, 321–322. Even though commercial speech has been thought to enjoy a lesser degree of protection, see, e.g.Central Hudson Gas & Elec. Corp. v. Public Serv. Comm’n of N. Y., 447 U. S. 557, 562–563 (1980), prior precedent in that area, specifically United Foodssupra, had applied what we characterized as “exacting” scrutiny, Knox, 567 U. S., at 310, a less demanding test than the “strict” scrutiny that might be thought to apply outside the commercial sphere. Under “exacting” scrutiny, we noted, a compelled subsidy must “serve a compelling state interest that cannot be achieved through means significantly less restrictive of associa- tional freedoms.” Ibid. (internal quotation marks and altera- tions omitted).

In Harris, the second of these cases, we again found that an agency-fee requirement failed “exacting scrutiny.” 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 33). But we questioned whether that test provides sufficient protection for free speech rights, since “it is apparent that the speech compelled” in agency-fee cases “is not commercial speech.” Id., at ___ (slip op., at 30).

Picking up that cue, petitioner in the present case contends that the Illinois law at issue should be subjected to “strict scrutiny.” Brief for Petitioner 36. The dissent, on the other hand, proposes that we apply what amounts to rational-basis review, that is, that we ask only whether a government employer could reasonably believe that the exaction of agency fees serves its interests. See post, at 4 (Kagan, J., dissenting) (“A government entity could reasonably conclude that such a clause was needed”). This form of minimal scrutiny is foreign to our free-speech jurisprudence, and we reject it here. At the same time, we again find it unnecessary to decide the issue of strict scrutiny because the Illinois scheme cannot survive under even the more permissive standard applied in Knox and Harris.

In the remainder of this part of our opinion (Parts III–B and III–C), we will apply this standard to the justifications for agency fees adopted by the Court in Abood. Then, in Parts IV and V, we will turn to alternative rationales proffered by respondents and their amici.

B

In Abood, the main defense of the agency-fee arrangement was that it served the State’s interest in “labor peace,” 431 U. S., at 224. By “labor peace,” the Abood Court meant avoidance of the conflict and disruption that it envisioned would occur if the employees in a unit were represented by more than one union. In such a situation, the Court predicted, “inter-union rivalries” would foster “dissension within the work force,” and the employer could face “conflicting demands from different unions.” Id., at 220–221. Confusion would ensue if the employer entered into and attempted to “enforce two or more agreements specifying different terms and conditions of employment.” Id., at 220. And a settlement with one union would be “subject to attack from [a] rival labor organizatio[n].” Id., at 221.

We assume that “labor peace,” in this sense of the term, is a compelling state interest, but Abood cited no evidence that the pandemonium it imagined would result if agency fees were not allowed, and it is now clear that Abood’s fears were unfounded. The Abood Court assumed that designation of a union as the exclusive representative of all the employees in a unit and the exaction of agency fees are inextricably linked, but that is simply not true. Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 31).

The federal employment experience is illustrative. Under federal law, a union chosen by majority vote is designated as the exclusive representative of all the employees, but federal law does not permit agency fees. See 5 U. S. C. §§7102, 7111(a), 7114(a). Nevertheless, nearly a million federal employees—about 27% of the federal work force—are union members.[1] The situation in the Postal Service is similar. Although permitted to choose an exclusive representative, Postal Service employees are not required to pay an agency fee, 39 U. S. C. §§1203(a), 1209(c), and about 400,000 are union members.[2] Likewise, millions of public employees in the 28 States that have laws generally prohibiting agency fees are represented by unions that serve as the exclusive representatives of all the employees.[3] Whatever may have been the case 41 years ago when Abood was handed down, it is now undeniable that “labor peace” can readily be achieved “through means significantly less restrictive of associational freedoms” than the assessment of agency fees. Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 30) (internal quotation marks omitted).

C

In addition to the promotion of “labor peace,” Abood cited “the risk of ‘free riders’ ” as justification for agency fees, 431 U. S., at 224. Respondents and some of their amici endorse this reasoning, contending that agency fees are needed to prevent nonmembers from enjoying the benefits of union representation without shouldering the costs. Brief for Union Respondent 34–36; Brief for State Respondents 41–45; see, e.g., Brief for International Brotherhood of Teamsters as Amicus Curiae 3–5.

Petitioner strenuously objects to this free-rider label. He argues that he is not a free rider on a bus headed for a destination that he wishes to reach but is more like a person shanghaied for an unwanted voyage.

Whichever description fits the majority of public employees who would not subsidize a union if given the option, avoiding free riders is not a compelling interest. As we have noted, “free-rider arguments . . . are generally insufficient to overcome First Amendment objections.” Knox, 567 U. S., at 311. To hold otherwise across the board would have startling consequences. Many private groups speak out with the objective of obtaining government action that will have the effect of benefiting nonmembers. May all those who are thought to benefit from such efforts be compelled to subsidize this speech?

Suppose that a particular group lobbies or speaks out on behalf of what it thinks are the needs of senior citizens or veterans or physicians, to take just a few examples. Could the government require that all seniors, veterans, or doctors pay for that service even if they object? It has never been thought that this is permissible. “[P]rivate speech often furthers the interests of nonspeakers,” but “that does not alone empower the state to compel the speech to be paid for.” Lehnert v. Ferris Faculty Assn., 500 U. S. 507, 556 (1991) (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). In simple terms, the First Amendment does not permit the government to compel a person to pay for another party’s speech just because the government thinks that the speech furthers the interests of the person who does not want to pay.[4]

Those supporting agency fees contend that the situation here is different because unions are statutorily required to “represen[t] the interests of all public employees in the unit,” whether or not they are union members. §315/6(d); see, e.g., Brief for State Respondents 40–41, 45; post, at 7 (Kagan, J., dissenting). Why might this matter?

We can think of two possible arguments. It might be argued that a State has a compelling interest in requiring the payment of agency fees because (1) unions would otherwise be unwilling to represent nonmembers or (2) it would be fundamentally unfair to require unions to provide fair representation for nonmembers if nonmembers were not required to pay. Neither of these arguments is sound.

First, it is simply not true that unions will refuse to serve as the exclusive representative of all employees in the unit if they are not given agency fees. As noted, unions represent millions of public employees in jurisdictions that do not permit agency fees. No union is ever compelled to seek that designation. On the contrary, designation as exclusive representative is avidly sought.[5] Why is this so?

Even without agency fees, designation as the exclusive representative confers many benefits. As noted, that status gives the union a privileged place in negotiations over wages, benefits, and working conditions. See §315/6(c). Not only is the union given the exclusive right to speak for all the employees in collective bargaining, but the employer is required by state law to listen to and to bargain in good faith with only that union. §315/7. Designation as exclusive representative thus “results in a tremendous increase in the power” of the union. American Communications Assn. v. Douds, 339 U. S. 382, 401 (1950).

In addition, a union designated as exclusive representative is often granted special privileges, such as obtaining information about employees, see §315/6(c), and having dues and fees deducted directly from employee wages, §§315/6(e)–(f ). The collective-bargaining agreement in this case guarantees a long list of additional privileges. See App. 138–143.

These benefits greatly outweigh any extra burden imposed by the duty of providing fair representation for nonmembers. What this duty entails, in simple terms, is an obligation not to “act solely in the interests of [the union’s] own members.” Brief for State Respondents 41; see Cintron v. AFSCME, Council 31, No. S–CB–16–032, p. 1, 34 PERI ¶105 (ILRB Dec. 13, 2017) (union may not intentionally direct “animosity” toward nonmembers based on their “dissident union practices”); accord, 14 Penn Plaza LLC v. Pyett, 556 U. S. 247, 271 (2009); Vaca v. Sipes, 386 U. S. 171, 177 (1967).

What does this mean when it comes to the negotiation of a contract? The union may not negotiate a collective-bargaining agreement that discriminates against nonmembers, see Steele v. Louisville & Nashville R. Co., 323 U. S. 192, 202–203 (1944), but the union’s bargaining latitude would be little different if state law simply prohibited public employers from entering into agreements that discriminate in that way. And for that matter, it is questionable whether the Constitution would permit a public-sector employer to adopt a collective-bargaining agreement that discriminates against nonmembers. See id., at 198–199, 202 (analogizing a private-sector union’s fair-representation duty to the duty “the Constitution imposes upon a legislature to give equal protection to the interests of those for whom it legislates”); cf. Rumsfeld v. Forum for Academic and Institutional Rights, Inc., 547 U. S. 47, 69 (2006) (recognizing that government may not “impose penalties or withhold benefits based on membership in a disfavored group” where doing so “ma[kes] group membership less attractive”). To the extent that an employer would be barred from acceding to a discriminatory agreement anyway, the union’s duty not to ask for one is superfluous. It is noteworthy that neither respondents nor any of the 39 amicus briefs supporting them—nor the dissent—has explained why the duty of fair representation causes public-sector unions to incur significantly greater expenses than they would otherwise bear in negotiating collective-bargaining agreements.

What about the representation of nonmembers in grievance proceedings? Unions do not undertake this activity solely for the benefit of nonmembers—which is why Illinois law gives a public-sector union the right to send a representative to such proceedings even if the employee declines union representation. §315/6(b). Representation of nonmembers furthers the union’s interest in keeping control of the administration of the collective-bargaining agreement, since the resolution of one employee’s grievance can affect others. And when a union controls the grievance process, it may, as a practical matter, effectively subordinate “the interests of [an] individual em- ployee . . . to the collective interests of all employees in the bargaining unit.” Alexander v. Gardner-Denver Co.415 U.S. 36, 58, n. 19 (1974); see Stahulak v. Chicago, 184 Ill. 2d 176, 180–181, 703 N. E. 2d 44, 46–47 (1998); Mahoney v. Chicago, 293 Ill. App. 3d 69, 73–74, 687 N.E.2d 132, 135–137 (1997) (union has “ ‘discretion to refuse to process’ ” a grievance, provided it does not act “arbitrar[ily]” or “in bad faith” (emphasis deleted)).

In any event, whatever unwanted burden is imposed by the representation of nonmembers in disciplinary matters can be eliminated “through means significantly less restrictive of associational freedoms” than the imposition of agency fees. Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 30) (internal quotation marks omitted). Individual nonmembers could be required to pay for that service or could be denied union representation altogether.[6] Thus, agency fees cannot be sustained on the ground that unions would otherwise be unwilling to represent nonmembers.

Nor can such fees be justified on the ground that it would otherwise be unfair to require a union to bear the duty of fair representation. That duty is a necessary concomitant of the authority that a union seeks when it chooses to serve as the exclusive representative of all the employees in a unit. As explained, designating a union as the exclusive representative of nonmembers substantially restricts the nonmembers’ rights. Supra, at 2–3. Protection of their interests is placed in the hands of the union, and if the union were free to disregard or even work against those interests, these employees would be wholly unprotected. That is why we said many years ago that serious “constitutional questions [would] arise” if the union were not subject to the duty to represent all employees fairly. Steelesupra, at 198.

In sum, we do not see any reason to treat the free-rider interest any differently in the agency-fee context than in any other First Amendment context. See Knox, 567 U. S., at 311, 321. We therefore hold that agency fees cannot be upheld on free-rider grounds.

IV

Implicitly acknowledging the weakness of Abood’s own reasoning, proponents of agency fees have come forward with alternative justifications for the decision, and we now address these arguments.

A

The most surprising of these new arguments is the Union respondent’s originalist defense of Abood. According to this argument, Abood was correctly decided because the First Amendment was not originally understood to provide any protection for the free speech rights of public employees. Brief for Union Respondent 2–3, 17–20.

As an initial matter, we doubt that the Union—or its members—actually want us to hold that public employees have “no [free speech] rights.” Id., at 1. Cf., e.g., Brief for National Treasury Employees Union as Amicus Curiae in Garcetti v. Ceballos, O. T. 2005, No. 04–473, p. 7 (arguing for “broa[d]” public-employee First Amendment rights); Brief for AFL–CIO as Amicus Curiae in No. 04–473 (similar).

It is particularly discordant to find this argument in a brief that trumpets the importance of stare decisis. See Brief for Union Respondent 47–57. Taking away free speech protection for public employees would mean overturning decades of landmark precedent. Under the Union’s theory, Pickering v. Board of Ed. of Township High School Dist. 205, Will Cty., 391 U. S. 563 (1968), and its progeny would fall. Yet Pickering, as we will discuss, is now the foundation for respondents’ chief defense of Abood. And indeed, Abood itself would have to go if public employees have no free speech rights, since Abood holds that the First Amendment prohibits the exaction of agency fees for political or ideological purposes. 431 U. S., at 234–235 (finding it “clear” that “a government may not require an individual to relinquish rights guaranteed him by the First Amendment as a condition of public employment”). Our political patronage cases would be doomed. See, e.g., Rutan v. Republican Party of Ill., 497 U. S. 62 (1990); Branti v. Finkel, 445 U. S. 507 (1980); Elrod v. Burns, 427 U. S. 347 (1976). Also imperiled would be older precedents like Wieman v. Updegraff, 344 U. S. 183 (1952) (loyalty oaths), Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479 (1960) (disclosure of memberships and contributions), and Keyishian v. Board of Regents of Univ. of State of N. Y., 385 U. S. 589 (1967) (subversive speech). Respondents presumably want none of this, desiring instead that we apply the Constitution’s supposed original meaning only when it suits them—to retain the part of Abood that they like. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 56–57. We will not engage in this halfway originalism.

Nor, in any event, does the First Amendment’s original meaning support the Union’s claim. The Union offers no persuasive founding-era evidence that public employees were understood to lack free speech protections. While it observes that restrictions on federal employees’ activities have existed since the First Congress, most of its historical examples involved limitations on public officials’ outside business dealings, not on their speech. See Ex parte Curtis, 106 U. S. 371, 372–373 (1882). The only early speech restrictions the Union identifies are an 1806 statute prohibiting military personnel from using “ ‘contemptuous or disrespectful words against the President’ ” and other officials, and an 1801 directive limiting electioneering by top government employees. Brief for Union Respondent 3. But those examples at most show that the government was understood to have power to limit employee speech that threatened important governmental interests (such as maintaining military discipline and preventing corruption)—not that public employees’ speech was entirely unprotected. Indeed, more recently this Court has upheld similar restrictions even while recognizing that government employees possess First Amendment rights. See, e.g., Brown v. Glines, 444 U. S. 348, 353 (1980) (upholding military restriction on speech that threatened troop readiness); Civil Service Comm’n v. Letter Carriers, 413 U. S. 548, 556–557 (1973) (upholding limits on public employees’ political activities).

Ultimately, the Union relies, not on founding-era evidence, but on dictum from a 1983 opinion of this Court stating that, “[f]or most of th[e 20th] century, the unchallenged dogma was that a public employee had no right to object to conditions placed upon the terms of employment—including those which restricted the exercise of constitutional rights.” Connick v. Myers, 461 U. S. 138, 143; see Brief for Union Respondent 2, 17. Even on its own terms, this dictum about 20th-century views does not purport to describe how the First Amendment was understood in 1791. And a careful examination of the decisions by this Court that Connick cited to support its dictum, see 461 U. S., at 144, reveals that none of them rested on the facile premise that public employees are unprotected by the First Amendment. Instead, they considered (much as we do today) whether particular speech restrictions were “necessary to protect” fundamental government interests. Curtis, supra, at 374.

The Union has also failed to show that, even if public employees enjoyed free speech rights, the First Amendment was nonetheless originally understood to allow forced subsidies like those at issue here. We can safely say that, at the time of the adoption of the First Amendment, no one gave any thought to whether public-sector unions could charge nonmembers agency fees. Entities resembling labor unions did not exist at the founding, and public-sector unions did not emerge until the mid-20th century. The idea of public-sector unionization and agency fees would astound those who framed and ratified the Bill of Rights.[7] Thus, the Union cannot point to any accepted founding-era practice that even remotely resembles the compulsory assessment of agency fees from public-sector employees. We do know, however, that prominent members of the founding generation condemned laws requiring public employees to affirm or support beliefs with which they disagreed. As noted, Jefferson denounced compelled support for such beliefs as “ ‘sinful and tyrannical,’ ” supra, at 9, and others expressed similar views.[8]

In short, the Union has offered no basis for concluding that Abood is supported by the original understanding of the First Amendment.

B

The principal defense of Abood advanced by respondents and the dissent is based on our decision in Pickering, 391 U. S. 563, which held that a school district violated the First Amendment by firing a teacher for writing a letter critical of the school administration. Under Pickering and later cases in the same line, employee speech is largely unprotected if it is part of what the employee is paid to do, see Garcetti v. Ceballos, 547 U. S. 410, 421–422 (2006), or if it involved a matter of only private concern, see Connicksupra, at 146–149. On the other hand, when a public employee speaks as a citizen on a matter of public concern, the employee’s speech is protected unless “ ‘the interest of the state, as an employer, in promoting the efficiency of the public services it performs through its employees’ outweighs ‘the interests of the [employee], as a citizen, in commenting upon matters of public concern.’ ” Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 35) (quoting Pickering, supra, at 568). Pickering was the centerpiece of the defense of Abood in Harris, see 573 U. S., at ___–___ (slip op., at 17–21) (Kagan, J., dissenting), and we found the argument unpersuasive, see id., at ___–___ (slip op., at 34–37). The intervening years have not improved its appeal.

1

As we pointed out in HarrisAbood was not based on Pickering. 573 U. S., at ___, and n. 26 (slip op., at 34, and n. 26). The Abood majority cited the case exactly once—in a footnote—and then merely to acknowledge that “there may be limits on the extent to which an employee in a sensitive or policymaking position may freely criticize his superiors and the policies they espouse.” 431 U. S., at 230, n. 27. That aside has no bearing on the agency-fee issue here.[9]

Respondents’ reliance on Pickering is thus “an effort to find a new justification for the decision in Abood.” Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 34). And we have previously taken a dim view of similar attempts to recast problematic First Amendment decisions. See, e.g.Citizens United v. Federal Election Comm’n, 558 U. S. 310, 348–349, 363 (2010) (rejecting efforts to recast Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce, 494 U. S. 652 (1990)); see also Citizens Unitedsupra, at 382–385 (Roberts, C. J., concurring). We see no good reason, at this late date, to try to shoehorn Abood into the Pickering framework.

2

Even if that were attempted, the shoe would be a painful fit for at least three reasons.

First, the Pickering framework was developed for use in a very different context—in cases that involve “one employee’s speech and its impact on that employee’s public responsibilities.” United States v. Treasury Employees, 513 U. S. 454, 467 (1995). This case, by contrast, involves a blanket requirement that all employees subsidize speech with which they may not agree. While we have sometimes looked to Pickering in considering general rules that affect broad categories of employees, we have acknowledged that the standard Pickering analysis requires modification in that situation. See 513 U. S., at 466–468, and n. 11. A speech-restrictive law with “widespread impact,” we have said, “gives rise to far more serious concerns than could any single supervisory decision.” Id., at 468. Therefore, when such a law is at issue, the government must shoulder a correspondingly “heav[ier]” burden, id., at 466, and is entitled to considerably less deference in its assessment that a predicted harm justifies a particular impingement on First Amendment rights, see id., at 475–476, n. 21; accord, id., at 482–483 (O’Connor, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). The end product of those adjustments is a test that more closely resembles exacting scrutiny than the traditional Pickering analysis.

The core collective-bargaining issue of wages and benefits illustrates this point. Suppose that a single employee complains that he or she should have received a 5% raise. This individual complaint would likely constitute a matter of only private concern and would therefore be unprotected under Pickering. But a public-sector union’s demand for a 5% raise for the many thousands of employees it represents would be another matter entirely. Granting such a raise could have a serious impact on the budget of the government unit in question, and by the same token, denying a raise might have a significant effect on the performance of government services. When a large number of employees speak through their union, the category of speech that is of public concern is greatly enlarged, and the category of speech that is of only private concern is substantially shrunk. By disputing this, post, at 13–14, the dissent denies the obvious.

Second, the Pickering framework fits much less well where the government compels speech or speech subsidies in support of third parties. Pickering is based on the insight that the speech of a public-sector employee may interfere with the effective operation of a government office. When a public employer does not simply restrict potentially disruptive speech but commands that its employees mouth a message on its own behalf, the calculus is very different. Of course, if the speech in question is part of an employee’s official duties, the employer may insist that the employee deliver any lawful message. See Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 421–422, 425–426. Otherwise, however, it is not easy to imagine a situation in which a public employer has a legitimate need to demand that its employees recite words with which they disagree. And we have never applied Pickering in such a case.

Consider our decision in Connick. In that case, we held that an assistant district attorney’s complaints about the supervisors in her office were, for the most part, matters of only private concern. 461 U. S., at 148. As a result, we held, the district attorney could fire her for making those comments. Id., at 154. Now, suppose that the assistant had not made any critical comments about the supervisors but that the district attorney, out of the blue, demanded that she circulate a memo praising the supervisors. Would her refusal to go along still be a matter of purely private concern? And if not, would the order be justified on the ground that the effective operation of the office demanded that the assistant voice complimentary sentiments with which she disagreed? If Pickering applies at all to compelled speech—a question that we do not decide—it would certainly require adjustment in that context.

Third, although both Pickering and Abood divided speech into two categories, the cases’ categorization schemes do not line up. Superimposing the Pickering scheme on Abood would significantly change the Abood regime.

Let us first look at speech that is not germane to collective bargaining but instead concerns political or ideological issues. Under Abood, a public employer is flatly prohibited from permitting nonmembers to be charged for this speech, but under Pickering, the employees’ free speech interests could be overcome if a court found that the employer’s interests outweighed the employees’.

A similar problem arises with respect to speech that is germane to collective bargaining. The parties dispute how much of this speech is of public concern, but respondents concede that much of it falls squarely into that category. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 47, 65. Under Abood, nonmembers may be required to pay for all this speech, but Pickering would permit that practice only if the employer’s interests outweighed those of the employees. Thus, recasting Abood as an application of Pickering would substantially alter the Abood scheme.

For all these reasons, Pickering is a poor fit indeed.

V

Even if we were to apply some form of Pickering, Illinois’ agency-fee arrangement would not survive.

A

Respondents begin by suggesting that union speech in collective-bargaining and grievance proceedings should be treated like the employee speech in Garcettii.e., as speech “pursuant to [an employee’s] official duties,” 547 U. S., at 421. Many employees, in both the public and private sectors, are paid to write or speak for the purpose of furthering the interests of their employers. There are laws that protect public employees from being compelled to say things that they reasonably believe to be untrue or improper, see id., at 425–426, but in general when public employees are performing their job duties, their speech may be controlled by their employer. Trying to fit union speech into this framework, respondents now suggest that the union speech funded by agency fees forms part of the official duties of the union officers who engage in the speech. Brief for Union Respondent 22–23; see Brief for State Respondents 23–24.

This argument distorts collective bargaining and grievance adjustment beyond recognition. When an employee engages in speech that is part of the employee’s job duties, the employee’s words are really the words of the employer. The employee is effectively the employer’s spokesperson. But when a union negotiates with the employer or represents employees in disciplinary proceedings, the union speaks for the employees, not the employer. Otherwise, the employer would be negotiating with itself and disputing its own actions. That is not what anybody understands to be happening.

What is more, if the union’s speech is really the employer’s speech, then the employer could dictate what the union says. Unions, we trust, would be appalled by such a suggestion. For these reasons, Garcetti is totally inapposite here.

B

Since the union speech paid for by agency fees is not controlled by Garcetti, we move on to the next step of the Pickering framework and ask whether the speech is on a matter of public or only private concern. In Harris, the dissent’s central argument in defense of Abood was that union speech in collective bargaining, including speech about wages and benefits, is basically a matter of only private interest. See 573 U. S., at ___–___ (slip op., at 19–20) (Kagan, J., dissenting). We squarely rejected that argument, see id., at ___–___ (slip op., at 35–36), and the facts of the present case substantiate what we said at that time: “[I]t is impossible to argue that the level of . . . state spending for employee benefits . . . is not a matter of great public concern,” id., at ___ (slip op., at 36).

Illinois, like some other States and a number of counties and cities around the country, suffers from severe budget problems.[10] As of 2013, Illinois had nearly $160 billion in unfunded pension and retiree healthcare liabilities.[11] By 2017, that number had only grown, and the State was grappling with $15 billion in unpaid bills.[12] We are told that a “quarter of the budget is now devoted to paying down” those liabilities.[13] These problems and others led Moody’s and S&P to downgrade Illinois’ credit rating to “one step above junk”—the “lowest ranking on record for a U. S. state.”[14]

The Governor, on one side, and public-sector unions, on the other, disagree sharply about what to do about these problems. The State claims that its employment-related debt is “ ‘squeezing core programs in education, public safety, and human services, in addition to limiting [the State’s] ability to pay [its] bills.’ ” Securities Act of 1933 Release No. 9389, 105 S. E. C. Docket 3381 (2013). It therefore “told the Union that it would attempt to address th[e financial] crisis, at least in part, through collective bargaining.” Board Decision 12–13. And “the State’s desire for savings” in fact “dr[o]ve [its] bargaining” positions on matters such as health-insurance benefits and holiday, overtime, and promotion policies. Id., at 13; Illinois Dept. of Central Management Servs. v. AFSCME, Council 31, No. S–CB–16–17 etc., 33 PERI ¶67 (ILRB Dec. 13, 2016) (ALJ Decision), pp. 26–28, 63–66, 224. But when the State offered cost-saving proposals on these issues, the Union countered with very different suggestions. Among other things, it advocated wage and tax increases, cutting spending “to Wall Street financial institutions,” and reforms to Illinois’ pension and tax systems (such as closing “corporate tax loopholes,” “[e]xpanding the base of the state sales tax,” and “allowing an income tax that is adjusted in accordance with ability to pay”). Id., at 27–28. To suggest that speech on such matters is not of great public concern—or that it is not directed at the “public square,” post, at 16 (Kagan, J., dissenting)—is to deny reality.

In addition to affecting how public money is spent, union speech in collective bargaining addresses many other important matters. As the examples offered by respondents’ own amici show, unions express views on a wide range of subjects—education, child welfare, healthcare, and minority rights, to name a few. See, e.g., Brief for American Federation of Teachers as Amicus Curiae 15–27; Brief for Child Protective Service Workers et al. as Amici Curiae 5–13; Brief for Human Rights Campaign et al. as Amici Curiae 10–17; Brief for National Women’s Law Center et al. as Amici Curiae 14–30. What unions have to say on these matters in the context of collective bargaining is of great public importance.

Take the example of education, which was the focus of briefing and argument in Friedrichs. The public importance of subsidized union speech is especially apparent in this field, since educators make up by far the largest category of state and local government employees, and education is typically the largest component of state and local government expenditures.[15]

Speech in this area also touches on fundamental questions of education policy. Should teacher pay be based on seniority, the better to retain experienced teachers? Or should schools adopt merit-pay systems to encourage teachers to get the best results out of their students?[16] Should districts transfer more experienced teachers to the lower performing schools that may have the greatest need for their skills, or should those teachers be allowed to stay where they have put down roots?[17] Should teachers be given tenure protection and, if so, under what conditions? On what grounds and pursuant to what procedures should teachers be subject to discipline or dismissal? How should teacher performance and student progress be measured—by standardized tests or other means?

Unions can also speak out in collective bargaining on controversial subjects such as climate change,[18] the Confederacy,[19] sexual orientation and gender identity,[20] evolution,[21] and minority religions.[22] These are sensitive political topics, and they are undoubtedly matters of profound “ ‘value and concern to the public.’ ” Snyder v. Phelps, 562 U. S. 443, 453 (2011). We have often recognized that such speech “ ‘occupies the highest rung of the hierarchy of First Amendment values’ ” and merits “ ‘special protection.’ ” Id., at 452.

What does the dissent say about the prevalence of such issues? The most that it is willing to admit is that “some” issues that arise in collective bargaining “raise important non-budgetary disputes.” Post, at 17. Here again, the dissent refuses to recognize what actually occurs in public-sector collective bargaining.

Even union speech in the handling of grievances may be of substantial public importance and may be directed at the “public square.” Post, at 16. For instance, the Union respondent in this case recently filed a grievance seeking to compel Illinois to appropriate $75 million to fund a 2% wage increase. State v. AFSCME Council 31, 2016 IL 118422, 51 N. E. 3d 738, 740–742, and n. 4. In short, the union speech at issue in this case is overwhelmingly of substantial public concern.

C

The only remaining question under Pickering is whether the State’s proffered interests justify the heavy burden that agency fees inflict on nonmembers’ First Amendment interests. We have already addressed the state interests asserted in Abood—promoting “labor peace” and avoiding free riders, see supra, at 11–18—and we will not repeat that analysis.

In Harris and this case, defenders of Abood have as- serted a different state interest—in the words of the Harris dissent, the State’s “interest in bargaining with an adequately funded exclusive bargaining agent.” 573 U. S., at ___ (Kagan, J., dissenting) (slip op., at 7); see also post, at 6–7 (Kagan, J., dissenting). This was not “the interest Abood recognized and protected,” Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 7) (Kagan, J., dissenting), and, in any event, it is insufficient.

Although the dissent would accept without any serious independent evaluation the State’s assertion that the absence of agency fees would cripple public-sector unions and thus impair the efficiency of government operations, see post, at 8–9, 11, ample experience, as we have noted, supra, at 12, shows that this is questionable.

Especially in light of the more rigorous form of Pickering analysis that would apply in this context, see supra, at 23–25, the balance tips decisively in favor of the employees’ free speech rights.[23]

We readily acknowledge, as Pickering did, that “the State has interests as an employer in regulating the speech of its employees that differ significantly from those it possesses in connection with regulation of the speech of the citizenry in general.” 391 U. S., at 568. Our analysis is consistent with that principle. The exacting scrutiny standard we apply in this case was developed in the context of commercial speech, another area where the government has traditionally enjoyed greater-than-usual power to regulate speech. See supra, at 10. It is also not disputed that the State may require that a union serve as exclusive bargaining agent for its employees—itself a significant impingement on associational freedoms that would not be tolerated in other contexts. We simply draw the line at allowing the government to go further still and require all employees to support the union irrespective of whether they share its views. Nothing in the Pickering line of cases requires us to uphold every speech restriction the government imposes as an employer. See Pickering, supra, at 564–566 (holding teacher’s dismissal for criticizing school board unconstitutional); Rankin v. McPherson, 483 U. S. 378, 392 (1987) (holding clerical employ- ee’s dismissal for supporting assassination attempt on President unconstitutional); Treasury Employees, 513 U. S., at 477 (holding federal-employee honoraria ban unconstitutional).

VI

For the reasons given above, we conclude that public-sector agency-shop arrangements violate the First Amendment, and Abood erred in concluding otherwise. There remains the question whether stare decisis nonetheless counsels against overruling Abood. It does not.

Stare decisis is the preferred course because it promotes the evenhanded, predictable, and consistent development of legal principles, fosters reliance on judicial decisions, and contributes to the actual and perceived integrity of the judicial process.” Payne v. Tennessee, 501 U. S. 808, 827 (1991). We will not overturn a past decision unless there are strong grounds for doing so. United States v. International Business Machines Corp., 517 U. S. 843, 855–856 (1996); Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 377 (Roberts, C. J., concurring). But as we have often recognized, stare decisis is “ ‘not an inexorable command.’ ” Pearson v. Callahan, 555 U. S. 223, 233 (2009); see also Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U. S. 558, 577 (2003); State Oil Co. v. Khan, 522 U. S. 3, 20 (1997); Agostini v. Felton, 521 U. S. 203, 235 (1997); Seminole Tribe of Fla. v. Florida, 517 U. S. 44, 63 (1996); Paynesupra, at 828.

The doctrine “is at its weakest when we interpret the Constitution because our interpretation can be altered only by constitutional amendment or by overruling our prior decisions.” Agostinisupra, at 235. And stare decisis applies with perhaps least force of all to decisions that wrongly denied First Amendment rights: “This Court has not hesitated to overrule decisions offensive to the First Amendment (a fixed star in our constitutional constellation, if there is one).” Federal Election Comm’n v. Wisconsin Right to Life, Inc., 551 U. S. 449, 500 (2007) (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (internal quotation marks omitted); see also Citizens Unitedsupra, at 362–365 (overruling Austin, 494 U. S. 652); Barnette, 319 U. S., at 642 (overruling Minersville School Dist. v. Gobitis, 310 U. S. 586 (1940)).

Our cases identify factors that should be taken into account in deciding whether to overrule a past decision. Five of these are most important here: the quality of Abood’s reasoning, the workability of the rule it established, its consistency with other related decisions, developments since the decision was handed down, and reliance on the decision. After analyzing these factors, we conclude that stare decisis does not require us to retain Abood.

A

An important factor in determining whether a precedent should be overruled is the quality of its reasoning, see Citizens United, 558 U. S., at 363–364; id., at 382–385 (Roberts, C. J., concurring); Lawrence, 539 U. S., at 577–578, and as we explained in HarrisAbood was poorly reasoned, see 573 U. S., at ___–___ (slip op., at 17–20). We will summarize, but not repeat, Harris’s lengthy discussion of the issue.

Abood went wrong at the start when it concluded that two prior decisions, Railway Employes v. Hanson, 351 U. S. 225 (1956), and Machinists v. Street, 367 U. S. 740 (1961), “appear[ed] to require validation of the agency-shop agreement before [the Court].” 431 U. S., at 226. Properly understood, those decisions did no such thing. Both cases involved Congress’s “bare authorization” of private-sector union shops under the Railway Labor Act. Streetsupra, at 749 (emphasis added).[24Abood failed to appreciate that a very different First Amendment question arises when a State requires its employees to pay agency fees. See Harris, supra, at ___ (slip op., at 17).

Moreover, neither Hanson nor Street gave careful consideration to the First Amendment. In Hanson, the primary questions were whether Congress exceeded its power under the Commerce Clause or violated substantive due process by authorizing private union-shop arrangements under the Commerce and Due Process Clauses. 351 U. S., at 233–235. After deciding those questions, the Court summarily dismissed what was essentially a facial First Amendment challenge, noting that the record did not substantiate the challengers’ claim. Id., at 238; see Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 17). For its part, Street was decided as a matter of statutory construction, and so did not reach any constitutional issue. 367 U. S., at 749–750, 768–769. Abood nevertheless took the view that Hanson and Street “all but decided” the important free speech issue that was before the Court. Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 17). As we said in Harris, “[s]urely a First Amendment issue of this importance deserved better treatment.” Ibid.

Abood’s unwarranted reliance on Hanson and Street appears to have contributed to another mistake: Abood judged the constitutionality of public-sector agency fees under a deferential standard that finds no support in our free speech cases. (As noted, supra, at 10–11, today’s dissent makes the same fundamental mistake.) Abood did not independently evaluate the strength of the government interests that were said to support the challenged agency-fee provision; nor did it ask how well that provision actually promoted those interests or whether they could have been adequately served without impinging so heavily on the free speech rights of nonmembers. Rather, Abood followed Hanson and Street, which it interpreted as having deferred to “the legislative assessment of the important contribution of the union shop to the system of labor relations established by Congress.” 431 U. S., at 222 (emphasis added). But Hanson deferred to that judgment in deciding the Commerce Clause and substantive due process questions that were the focus of the case. Such deference to legislative judgments is inappropriate in deciding free speech issues.

If Abood had considered whether agency fees were actually needed to serve the asserted state interests, it might not have made the serious mistake of assuming that one of those interests—“labor peace”—demanded, not only that a single union be designated as the exclusive representative of all the employees in the relevant unit, but also that nonmembers be required to pay agency fees. Deferring to a perceived legislative judgment, Abood failed to see that the designation of a union as exclusive representative and the imposition of agency fees are not inextricably linked. See supra, at 11–12; Harrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 31).

Abood also did not sufficiently take into account the difference between the effects of agency fees in public- and private-sector collective bargaining. The challengers in Abood argued that collective bargaining with a government employer, unlike collective bargaining in the private sector, involves “inherently ‘political’ ” speech. 431 U. S., at 226. The Court did not dispute that characterization, and in fact conceded that “decisionmaking by a public employer is above all a political process” driven more by policy concerns than economic ones. Id., at 228; see id., at 228–231. But (again invoking Hanson), the Abood Court asserted that public employees do not have “weightier First Amendment interest[s]” against compelled speech than do private employees. Id., at 229. That missed the point. Assuming for the sake of argument that the First Amendment applies at all to private-sector agency-shop arrangements, the individual interests at stake still differ. “In the public sector, core issues such as wages, pensions, and benefits are important political issues, but that is generally not so in the private sector.” Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 17).

Overlooking the importance of this distinction, “Abood failed to appreciate the conceptual difficulty of distinguishing in public-sector cases between union expenditures that are made for collective-bargaining purposes and those that are made to achieve political ends.” Id., at ___ (slip op., at 18). Likewise, “Abood does not seem to have anticipated the magnitude of the practical administrative problems that would result in attempting to classify public-sector union expenditures as either ‘chargeable’ . . . or nonchargeable.” Ibid. Nor did Abood “foresee the practical problems that would face objecting nonmembers.” Id., at ___ (slip op., at 19).

In sum, as detailed in HarrisAbood was not well reasoned.[25]

B

Another relevant consideration in the stare decisis calculus is the workability of the precedent in question, Montejo v. Louisiana, 556 U. S. 778, 792 (2009), and that factor also weighs against Abood.

1

Abood’s line between chargeable and nonchargeable union expenditures has proved to be impossible to draw with precision. We tried to give the line some definition in Lehnert. There, a majority of the Court adopted a three-part test requiring that chargeable expenses (1) be “ ‘germane’ ” to collective bargaining, (2) be “justified” by the government’s labor-peace and free-rider interests, and (3) not add “significantly” to the burden on free speech, 500 U. S., at 519, but the Court splintered over the application of this test, see id., at 519–522 (plurality opinion); id., at 533–534 (Marshall, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). That division was not surprising. As the Lehnert dissenters aptly observed, each part of the majority’s test “involves a substantial judgment call,” id., at 551 (opinion of Scalia, J.), rendering the test “altogether malleable” and “no[t] principled,” id., at 563 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part).

Justice Scalia presciently warned that Lehnert’s amorphous standard would invite “perpetua[l] give-it-a-try litigation,” id., at 551, and the Court’s experience with union lobbying expenses illustrates the point. The Lehnert plurality held that money spent on lobbying for increased education funding was not chargeable. Id., at 519–522. But Justice Marshall—applying the same three-prong test—reached precisely the opposite conclusion. Id., at 533–542. And Lehnert failed to settle the matter; States and unions have continued to “give it a try” ever since.

In Knox, for example, we confronted a union’s claim that the costs of lobbying the legislature and the electorate about a ballot measure were chargeable expenses under Lehnert. See Brief for Respondent in Knox v. Service Employees, O. T. 2011, No. 10–1121, pp. 48–53. The Court rejected this claim out of hand, 567 U. S., at 320–321, but the dissent refused to do so, id., at 336 (opinion of Breyer, J.). And in the present case, nonmembers are required to pay for unspecified “[l]obbying” expenses and for “[s]ervices” that “may ultimately inure to the benefit of the members of the local bargaining unit.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 31a–32a. That formulation is broad enough to encompass just about anything that the union might choose to do.

Respondents agree that Abood’s chargeable-nonchargeable line suffers from “a vagueness problem,” that it sometimes “allows what it shouldn’t allow,” and that “a firm[er] line c[ould] be drawn.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 47–48. They therefore argue that we should “consider revisiting” this part of Abood. Tr. of Oral Arg. 66; see Brief for Union Respondent 46–47; Brief for State Respondents 30. This concession only underscores the real- ity that Abood has proved unworkable: Not even the parties defending agency fees support the line that it has taken this Court over 40 years to draw.

2

Objecting employees also face a daunting and expensive task if they wish to challenge union chargeability determinations. While Hudson requires a union to provide nonmembers with “sufficient information to gauge the propriety of the union’s fee,” 475 U. S., at 306, the Hudson notice in the present case and in others that have come before us do not begin to permit a nonmember to make such a determination.

In this case, the notice lists categories of expenses and sets out the amount in each category that is said to be attributable to chargeable and nonchargeable expenses. Here are some examples regarding the Union respondent’s expenditures:

 

See App. to Pet. for Cert. 35a–36a.

How could any nonmember determine whether these numbers are even close to the mark without launching a legal challenge and retaining the services of attorneys and accountants? Indeed, even with such services, it would be a laborious and difficult task to check these figures.[26]

The Union respondent argues that challenging its chargeability determinations is not burdensome because the Union pays for the costs of arbitration, see Brief for Union Respondent 10–11, but objectors must still pay for the attorneys and experts needed to mount a serious challenge. And the attorney’s fees incurred in such a proceeding can be substantial. See, e.g.Knox v. Chiang, 2013 WL 2434606, *15 (ED Cal., June 5, 2013) (attorney’s fees in Knox exceeded $1 million). The Union respondent’s suggestion that an objector could obtain adequate review without even showing up at an arbitration, see App. to Pet. for Cert. 40a–41a, is therefore farfetched.

C

Developments since Abood, both factual and legal, have also “eroded” the decision’s “underpinnings” and left it an outlier among our First Amendment cases. United States v. Gaudin, 515 U. S. 506, 521 (1995).

1

Abood pinned its result on the “unsupported empirical assumption” that “the principle of exclusive representation in the public sector is dependent on a union or agency shop.” Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 20); Abood, 431 U. S., at 220–222. But, as already noted, experience has shown otherwise. See supra, at 11–12.

It is also significant that the Court decided Abood against a very different legal and economic backdrop. Public-sector unionism was a relatively new phenomenon in 1977. The first State to permit collective bargaining by government employees was Wisconsin in 1959, R. Kearney & P. Mareschal, Labor Relations in the Public Sector 64 (5th ed. 2014), and public-sector union membership remained relatively low until a “spurt” in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, shortly before Abood was decided, Freeman, Unionism Comes to the Public Sector, 24 J. Econ. Lit. 41, 45 (1986). Since then, public-sector union membership has come to surpass private-sector union membership, even though there are nearly four times as many total private-sector employees as public-sector employees. B. Hirsch & D. Macpherson, Union Membership and Earnings Data Book 9–10, 12, 16 (2013 ed.).

This ascendance of public-sector unions has been marked by a parallel increase in public spending. In 1970, total state and local government expenditures amounted to $646 per capita in nominal terms, or about $4,000 per capita in 2014 dollars. See Dept. of Commerce, Statistical Abstract of the United States: 1972, p. 419; CPI Inflation Calculator, BLS, http://data.bls.gov/cgi-bin/cpicalc.pl. By 2014, that figure had ballooned to approximately $10,238 per capita. ProQuest, Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2018, pp. 17, Table 14, 300, Table 469. Not all that increase can be attributed to public-sector unions, of course, but the mounting costs of public-employee wages, benefits, and pensions undoubtedly played a substantial role. We are told, for example, that Illinois’ pension funds are underfunded by $129 billion as a result of generous public-employee retirement packages. Brief for Jason R. Barclay et al. as Amici Curiae 9, 14. Unsustainable collective-bargaining agreements have also been blamed for multiple municipal bankruptcies. See Brief for State of Michigan et al. as Amici Curiae 10–19. These developments, and the political debate over public spending and debt they have spurred, have given collective-bargaining issues a political valence that Abood did not fully appreciate.

2

Abood is also an “anomaly” in our First Amendment jurisprudence, as we recognized in Harris and KnoxHarrissupra, at ___ (slip op., at 8); Knox, 567 U. S., at 311. This is not an altogether new observation. In Abood itself, Justice Powell faulted the Court for failing to perform the “ ‘exacting scrutiny’ ” applied in other cases involving significant impingements on First Amendment rights. 431 U. S., at 259; see id., at 259–260, and n. 14. Our later cases involving compelled speech and association have also employed exacting scrutiny, if not a more demanding standard. See, e.g.Roberts, 468 U. S., at 623; United Foods, 533 U. S., at 414. And we have more recently refused, even in agency-fee cases, to extend Abood beyond circumstances where it directly controls. See Knoxsupra, at 314; Harrissupra, at ___–___ (slip op., at 28–29).

Abood particularly sticks out when viewed against our

cases holding that public employees generally may not be required to support a political party. See Elrod, 427 U. S. 347; Branti, 445 U. S. 507; Rutan, 497 U. S. 62; O’Hare Truck Service, Inc. v. City of Northlake, 518 U. S. 712 (1996). The Court reached that conclusion despite a “long tradition” of political patronage in government. Rutansupra, at 95 (Scalia, J., dissenting); see also Elrod, 427 U. S., at 353 (plurality opinion); id., at 377–378 (Powell, J., dissenting). It is an odd feature of our First Amendment cases that political patronage has been deemed largely unconstitutional, while forced subsidization of union speech (which has no such pedigree) has been largely permitted. As Justice Powell observed: “I am at a loss to understand why the State’s decision to adopt the agency shop in the public sector should be worthy of greater deference, when challenged on First Amendment grounds, than its decision to adhere to the tradition of political patronage.” Aboodsupra, at 260, n. 14 (opinion concurring in judgment) (citing Elrodsupra, at 376–380, 382–387 (Powell, J., dissenting); emphasis added). We have no occasion here to reconsider our political patronage decisions, but Justice Powell’s observation is sound as far as it goes. By overruling Abood, we end the oddity of privileging compelled union support over compelled party support and bring a measure of greater coherence to our First Amendment law.

D

In some cases, reliance provides a strong reason for adhering to established law, see, e.g.Hilton v. South Carolina Public Railways Comm’n, 502 U. S. 197, 202–203 (1991), and this is the factor that is stressed most strongly by respondents, their amici, and the dissent. They contend that collective-bargaining agreements now in effect were negotiated with agency fees in mind and that unions may have given up other benefits in exchange for provisions granting them such fees. Tr. of Oral Arg. 67–68; see Brief for State Respondents 54; Brief for Union Respondent 50; post, at 22–26 (Kagan, J., dissenting). In this case, however, reliance does not carry decisive weight.

For one thing, it would be unconscionable to permit free speech rights to be abridged in perpetuity in order to preserve contract provisions that will expire on their own in a few years’ time. “The fact that [public-sector unions] may view [agency fees] as an entitlement does not establish the sort of reliance interest that could outweigh the countervailing interest that [nonmembers] share in having their constitutional rights fully protected.” Arizona v. Gant, 556 U. S. 332, 349 (2009).

For another, Abood does not provide “a clear or easily applicable standard, so arguments for reliance based on its clarity are misplaced.” South Dakota v. Wayfair, Inc.ante, at 20; see supra, at 38–41.

This is especially so because public-sector unions have been on notice for years regarding this Court’s misgivings about Abood. In Knox, decided in 2012, we described Abood as a First Amendment “anomaly.” 567 U. S., at 311. Two years later in Harris, we were asked to overrule Abood, and while we found it unnecessary to take that step, we cataloged Abood’s many weaknesses. In 2015, we granted a petition for certiorari asking us to review a decision that sustained an agency-fee arrangement under AboodFriedrichs v. California Teachers Assn., 576 U. S. ___. After exhaustive briefing and argument on the question whether Abood should be overruled, we affirmed the decision below by an equally divided vote. 578 U. S. ___ (2016) (per curiam). During this period of time, any public-sector union seeking an agency-fee provision in a collective-bargaining agreement must have understood that the constitutionality of such a provision was uncertain.

That is certainly true with respect to the collective-bargaining agreement in the present case. That agreement initially ran from July 1, 2012, until June 30, 2015. App. 331. Since then, the agreement has been extended pursuant to a provision providing for automatic renewal for an additional year unless either party gives timely notice that it desires to amend or terminate the contract. Ibid. Thus, for the past three years, the Union could not have been confident about the continuation of the agency-fee arrangement for more than a year at a time.

Because public-sector collective-bargaining agreements are generally of rather short duration, a great many of those now in effect probably began or were renewed since Knox (2012) or Harris (2014). But even if an agreement antedates those decisions, the union was able to protect itself if an agency-fee provision was essential to the overall bargain. A union’s attorneys undoubtedly understand that if one provision of a collective-bargaining agreement is found to be unlawful, the remaining provisions are likely to remain in effect. See NLRB v. Rockaway News Supply Co., 345 U. S. 71, 76–79 (1953); see also 8 R. Lord, Williston on Contracts §19:70 (4th ed. 2010). Any union believing that an agency-fee provision was essential to its bargain could have insisted on a provision giving it greater protection. The agreement in the present case, by contrast, provides expressly that the invalidation of any part of the agreement “shall not invalidate the remaining portions,” which “shall remain in full force and effect.” App. 328. Such severability clauses ensure that “entire contracts” are not “br[ought] down” by today’s ruling. Post, at 23, n. 5 (Kagan, J., dissenting).

In short, the uncertain status of Abood, the lack of clarity it provides, the short-term nature of collective-bargaining agreements, and the ability of unions to protect themselves if an agency-fee provision was crucial to its bargain all work to undermine the force of reliance as a factor supporting Abood.[27]

*  *  *

We recognize that the loss of payments from nonmembers may cause unions to experience unpleasant transition costs in the short term, and may require unions to make adjustments in order to attract and retain members. But we must weigh these disadvantages against the considerable windfall that unions have received under Abood for the past 41 years. It is hard to estimate how many billions of dollars have been taken from nonmembers and transferred to public-sector unions in violation of the First Amendment. Those unconstitutional exactions cannot be allowed to continue indefinitely.

All these reasons—that Abood’s proponents have abandoned its reasoning, that the precedent has proved unworkable, that it conflicts with other First Amendment decisions, and that subsequent developments have eroded its underpinnings—provide the “ ‘special justification[s]’ ” for overruling AboodPost, at 19 (Kagan, J., dissenting) (quoting Kimble v. Marvel Entertainment, LLC, 576 U. S. ___, ___ (2015) (slip op., at 8)).[28]

VII

For these reasons, States and public-sector unions may no longer extract agency fees from nonconsenting employees. Under Illinois law, if a public-sector collective-bargaining agreement includes an agency-fee provision and the union certifies to the employer the amount of the fee, that amount is automatically deducted from the nonmember’s wages. §315/6(e). No form of employee consent is required.

This procedure violates the First Amendment and cannot continue. Neither an agency fee nor any other payment to the union may be deducted from a nonmember’s wages, nor may any other attempt be made to collect such a payment, unless the employee affirmatively consents to pay. By agreeing to pay, nonmembers are waiving their First Amendment rights, and such a waiver cannot be presumed. Johnson v. Zerbst, 304 U. S. 458, 464 (1938); see also Knox, 567 U. S., at 312–313. Rather, to be effective, the waiver must be freely given and shown by “clear and compelling” evidence. Curtis Publishing Co. v. Butts, 388 U. S. 130, 145 (1967) (plurality opinion); see also College Savings Bank v. Florida Prepaid Postsecondary Ed. Expense Bd., 527 U. S. 666, 680–682 (1999). Unless employees clearly and affirmatively consent before any money is taken from them, this standard cannot be met.

*  *  *

Abood was wrongly decided and is now overruled. The judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

 

It is so ordered.

Notes

1  See Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS), Labor Force Statistics From the Current Population Survey (Table 42) (2017), https://www.bls.gov/cps/tables.htm (all Internet materials as visited June 26, 2018).
2  See Union Membership and Coverage Database From the Current Population Survey (Jan. 21, 2018), unionstats.com.
3  See National Conference of State Legislatures, Right-to-Work States (2018), http://www.ncsl.org/research/labor-and-employment/right-to-work-laws-and-bills.aspx#chart; see also, e.g., Brief for Mackinac Center for Public Policy as Amicus Curiae 27–28, 34–36.
4  The collective-action problem cited by the dissent, post, at 6, is not specific to the agency-fee context. And contrary to the dissent’s suggestion, it is often not practical for an entity that lobbies or advocates on behalf of the members of a group to tailor its message so that only its members benefit from its efforts. Consider how effective it would be for a group that advocates on behalf of, say, seniors, to argue that a new measure should apply only to its dues-paying members.
5  In order to obtain that status, a union must petition to be recognized and campaign to win majority approval. Ill. Comp. Stat., ch. 5, §315/9(a) (2016); see, e.g.County of Du Page v. Illinois Labor Relations Bd., 231 Ill. 2d 593, 597–600, 900 N. E. 2d 1095, 1098–1099 (2008). And unions eagerly seek this support. See, e.g., Brief for Employees of the State of Minnesota Court System as Amici Curiae 9–17.
6  There is precedent for such arrangements. Some States have laws providing that, if an employee with a religious objection to paying an agency fee “requests the [union] to use the grievance procedure or arbitration procedure on the employee’s behalf, the [union] is authorized to charge the employee for the reasonable cost of using such procedure.” E.g., Cal. Govt. Code Ann. §3546.3 (West 2010); cf. Ill. Comp. Stat., ch. 5, §315/6(g) (2016). This more tailored alternative, if applied to other objectors, would prevent free ridership while imposing a lesser burden on First Amendment rights.
7  Indeed, under common law, “collective bargaining was unlawful,” Teamsters v. Terry, 494 U. S. 558, 565–566 (1990) (plurality opinion); see N. Citrine, Trade Union Law 4–7, 9–10 (2d ed. 1960); Notes, Legal-ity of Trade Unions at Common Law, 25 Harv. L. Rev. 465, 466 (1912), and into the 20th century, every individual employee had the “liberty of contract” to “sell his labor upon such terms as he deem[ed] proper,” Adair v. United States, 208 U. S. 161, 174–175 (1908); see R. Morris, Government and Labor in Early America 208, 529 (1946). So even the concept of a private third-party entity with the power to bind employees on the terms of their employment likely would have been foreign to the Founders. We note this only to show the problems inherent in the Union respondent’s argument; we are not in any way questioning the foundations of modern labor law.
8  See, e.g., Ellsworth, The Landholder, VII (1787), in Essays on the Constitution of the United States 167–171 (P. Ford ed. 1892); Webster, On Test Laws, Oaths of Allegiance and Abjuration, and Partial Exclusions from Office, in A Collection of Essays and Fugitiv[e] Writings 151–153 (1790).
9  Justice Powell’s separate opinion did invoke Pickering in a relevant sense, but he did so only to acknowledge the State’s relatively greater interest in regulating speech when it acts as employer than when it acts as sovereign. Abood v. Detroit Bd. of Ed., 431 U. S. 209, 259 (1977) (concurring in judgment). In the very next sentence, he explained that “even in public employment, a significant impairment of First Amendment rights must survive exacting scrutiny.” Ibid. (internal quotation marks omitted). That is the test we apply today.
10  See Brief for State of Michigan et al. as Amici Curiae 9–24. Nationwide, the cost of state and local employees’ wages and benefits, for example, is nearly $1.5 trillion—more than half of those jurisdictions’ total expenditures. See Dept. of Commerce, Bureau of Economic Analysis, National Data, GDP & Personal Income, Table 6.2D, line 92 (Aug. 3, 2017), and Table 3.3, line 37 (May 30, 2018), https://www.bea.gov/iTable/iTable.cfm?reqid=19&step=2#reqid=19&step=2&isuri=1&1921=survey. And many States and cities struggle with unfunded pension and retiree healthcare liabilities and other budget issues.
11  PEW Charitable Trusts, Fiscal 50: State Trends and Analysis (updated May 17, 2016), http://www.pewtrusts.org/en/research-and-analysis/data-visualizations/2014/fiscal-50#ind4.
12  See Brief for Jason R. Barclay et al. as Amici Curiae 9; M. Egan, How Illinois Became America’s Most Messed-Up State, CNN Money (July 1, 2017), https://cnnmon.ie/2tp9NX5.
13  Brief for Jason R. Barclay et al. as Amici Curiae 9.
14  E. Campbell, S&P, Moody’s Downgrade Illinois to Near Junk, Lowest Ever for a U. S. State, Bloomberg (June 1, 2017), https://bloom.bg/2roEJUc.
15  See National Association of State Budget Officers, Summary: Spring 2018 Fiscal Survey of States 2 (June 14, 2018), http://www.nasbo.org; ProQuest Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2018, pp. 306, Table 476, 321, Table 489.
16  See Rogers, School Districts ‘Race to the Top’ Despite Teacher Dispute, Marin Independent J., June 19, 2010.
17  See Sawchuk, Transferring Top Teachers Has Benefits: Study Probes Moving Talent to Low-Performing Schools, Education Week, Nov. 13, 2013, pp. 1, 13.
18  See Tucker, Textbooks Equivocate on Global Warming: Stanford Study Finds Portrayal ‘Dishonest,’ San Francisco Chronicle, Nov. 24, 2015, p. C1.
19  See Reagan, Anti-Confederacy Movement Rekindles Texas Textbook Controversy, San Antonio Current, Aug. 4, 2015.
20  See Watanabe, How To Teach Gay Issues in 1st Grade? A New Law Requiring California Schools To Have Lessons About LGBT Americans Raises Tough Questions, L. A. Times, Oct. 16, 2011, p. A1.
21  See Goodstein, A Web of Faith, Law and Science in Evolution Suit, N. Y. Times, Sept. 26, 2005, p. A1.
22  See Golden, Defending the Faith: New Battleground in Textbook Wars: Religion in History, Wall St. J., Jan. 25, 2006, p. A1.
23  Claiming that our decision will hobble government operations, the dissent asserts that it would prevent a government employer from taking action against disruptive non-unionized employees in two carefully constructed hypothetical situations. See post, at 17–18. Both hypotheticals are short on potentially important details, but in any event, neither would be affected by our decision in this case. Rather, both would simply call for the application of the standard Pickering test. In one of the hypotheticals, teachers “protest merit pay in the school cafeteria.” Post, at 17. If such a case actually arose, it would be important to know, among other things, whether the teachers involved were supposed to be teaching in their classrooms at the time in question and whether the protest occurred in the presence of students during the student lunch period. If both those conditions were met, the teachers would presumably be violating content-neutral rules regarding their duty to teach at specified times and places, and their conduct might well have a disruptive effect on the educational process. Thus, in the dissent’s hypothetical, the school’s interests might well outweigh those of the teachers, but in this hypothetical case, as in all Pickering cases, the particular facts would be very important. In the other hypothetical, employees agitate for a better health plan “at various inopportune times and places.” Post, at 17. Here, the lack of factual detail makes it impossible to evaluate how the Pickering balance would come out. The term “agitat[ion]” can encompass a wide range of conduct, as well as speech. Post, at 17. And the time and place of the agitation would also be important.
24  No First Amendment issue could have properly arisen in those cases unless Congress’s enactment of a provision allowing, but not requiring, private parties to enter into union-shop arrangements was sufficient to establish governmental action. That proposition was debatable when Abood was decided, and is even more questionable today. See American Mfrs. Mut. Ins. Co. v. Sullivan, 526 U. S. 40, 53 (1999); Jackson v. Metropolitan Edison Co., 419 U. S. 345, 357 (1974). Compare, e.g.White v. Communications Workers of Am., AFL–CIO, Local 13000, 370 F. 3d 346, 350 (CA3 2004) (no state action), and Kolinske v. Lubbers, 712 F. 2d 471, 477–478 (CADC 1983) (same), with Beck v. Communications Workers of Am., 776 F. 2d 1187, 1207 (CA4 1985) (state action), and Linscott v. Millers Falls Co., 440 F. 2d 14, 16, and n. 2 (CA1 1971) (same). We reserved decision on this question in Communications Workers v. Beck, 487 U. S. 735, 761 (1988), and do not resolve it here.
25  Contrary to the dissent’s claim, see post, at 19, and n. 4, the fact that “[t]he rationale of [Abood] does not withstand careful analysis” is a reason to overrule it, e.g., Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U. S. 558, 577 (2003). And that is even truer when, as here, the defenders of the precedent do not attempt to “defend [its actual] reasoning.” Citizens United v. Federal Election Comm’n, 558 U. S. 310, 363 (2010); id., at 382–385 (Roberts, C. J., concurring).
26  For this reason, it is hardly surprising that chargeability issues have not arisen in many Court of Appeals cases. See post, at 22 (Kagan, J., dissenting).
27  The dissent emphasizes another type of reliance, namely, that “[o]ver 20 States have by now enacted statutes authorizing [agency-fee] provisions.” Post, at 23. But as we explained in Citizens United, “[t]his is not a compelling interest for stare decisis. If it were, legislative acts could prevent us from overruling our own precedents, thereby interfering with our duty ‘to say what the law is.’ ” 558 U. S., at 365 (quoting Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137, 177 (1803)). Nor does our decision “ ‘require an extensive legislative response.’ ” Post, at 23. States can keep their labor-relations systems exactly as they are—only they cannot force nonmembers to subsidize public-sector unions. In this way, these States can follow the model of the federal government and 28 other States.
28  Unfortunately, the dissent sees the need to resort to accusations that we are acting like “black-robed rulers” who have shut down an “energetic policy debate.” Post, at 27–28. We certainly agree that judges should not “overrid[e] citizens’ choices” or “pick the winning side,” ibid.—unless the Constitution commands that they do so. But when a federal or state law violates the Constitution, the American doctrine of judicial review requires us to enforce the Constitution. Here, States with agency-fee laws have abridged fundamental free speech rights. In holding that these laws violate the Constitution, we are simply enforcing the First Amendment as properly understood, “[t]he very purpose of [which] 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.” West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 638 (1943).
 

Dissent

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

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No. 16–1466

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MARK JANUS, PETITIONER v. AMERICAN FEDER- ATION OF STATE, COUNTY, AND MUNICIPAL EMPLOYEES, COUNCIL 31, et al.

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the seventh circuit

[June 27, 2018]

 

Justice Kagan, with whom Justice Ginsburg, Justice Breyer, and Justice Sotomayor join, dissenting.

For over 40 years, Abood v. Detroit Bd. of Ed., 431 U. S. 209 (1977), struck a stable balance between public employees’ First Amendment rights and government entities’ interests in running their workforces as they thought proper. Under that decision, a government entity could require public employees to pay a fair share of the cost that a union incurs when negotiating on their behalf over terms of employment. But no part of that fair-share payment could go to any of the union’s political or ideological activities.

That holding fit comfortably with this Court’s general framework for evaluating claims that a condition of public employment violates the First Amendment. The Court’s decisions have long made plain that government entities have substantial latitude to regulate their employees’ speech—especially about terms of employment—in the interest of operating their workplaces effectively. Abood allowed governments to do just that. While protecting public employees’ expression about non-workplace matters, the decision enabled a government to advance important managerial interests—by ensuring the presence of an exclusive employee representative to bargain with. Far from an “anomaly,” ante, at 7, the Abood regime was a paradigmatic example of how the government can regulate speech in its capacity as an employer.

Not any longer. Today, the Court succeeds in its 6-year campaign to reverse Abood. See Friedrichs v. California Teachers Assn., 578 U. S. ___ (2016) (per curiam); Harris v. Quinn, 573 U. S. ___ (2014); Knox v. Service Employees, 567 U. S. 298 (2012). Its decision will have large-scale consequences. Public employee unions will lose a secure source of financial support. State and local governments that thought fair-share provisions furthered their interests will need to find new ways of managing their workforces. Across the country, the relationships of public employees and employers will alter in both predictable and wholly unexpected ways.

Rarely if ever has the Court overruled a decision—let alone one of this import—with so little regard for the usual principles of stare decisis. There are no special justifications for reversing Abood. It has proved workable. No recent developments have eroded its underpinnings. And it is deeply entrenched, in both the law and the real world. More than 20 States have statutory schemes built on the decision. Those laws underpin thousands of ongoing contracts involving millions of employees. Reliance interests do not come any stronger than those surrounding Abood. And likewise, judicial disruption does not get any greater than what the Court does today. I respectfully dissent.

I

I begin with Abood, the 41-year-old precedent the majority overrules. That case involved a union that had been certified as the exclusive representative of Detroit’s public school teachers. The union’s collective-bargaining agreement with the city included an “agency shop” clause, which required teachers who had not joined the union to pay it “a service charge equal to the regular dues required of [u]nion members.” Abood, 431 U. S., at 212. A group of non-union members sued over that clause, arguing that it violated the First Amendment.

In considering their challenge, the Court canvassed the purposes of the “agency shop” clause. It was rooted, the Court understood, in the “principle of exclusive union representation”—a “central element” in “industrial relations” since the New Deal. Id., at 220. Significant benefits, the Court explained, could derive from the “designation of a single [union] representative” for all similarly situated employees in a workplace. Ibid. In particular, such arrangements: “avoid[ ] the confusion that would result from attempting to enforce two or more agreements specifying different terms and conditions of employment”; “prevent[ ] inter-union rivalries from creating dissension within the work force”; “free[ ] the employer from the possibility of facing conflicting demands from different unions”; and “permit[ ] the employer and a single union to reach agreements and settlements that are not subject to attack from rival labor organizations.” Id., at 220–221. As proof, the Court pointed to the example of exclusive-representation arrangements in the private-employment sphere: There, Congress had long thought that such schemes would promote “peaceful labor relations” and “labor stability.” Id., at 219, 229. A public employer like Detroit, the Court believed, could reasonably make the same calculation.

But for an exclusive-bargaining arrangement to work, such an employer often thought, the union needed adequate funding. Because the “designation of a union as exclusive representative carries with it great responsibilities,” the Court reasoned, it inevitably also entails substantial costs. Id., at 221. “The tasks of negotiating and administering a collective-bargaining agreement and representing the interests of employees in settling disputes and processing grievances are continuing and difficult ones.” Ibid. Those activities, the Court noted, require the “expenditure of much time and money”—for example, payment for the “services of lawyers, expert negotiators, economists, and a research staff.” Ibid. And there is no way to confine the union’s services to union members alone (and thus to trim costs) because unions must by law fairly represent all employees in a given bargaining unit—union members and non-members alike. See ibid.

With all that in mind, the Court recognized why both a government entity and its union bargaining partner would gravitate toward an agency-fee clause. Those fees, the Court reasoned, “distribute fairly the cost” of collective bargaining “among those who benefit”—that is, all employees in the work unit. Id., at 222. And they “counteract[ ] the incentive that employees might otherwise have to become ‘free riders.’ ” Ibid. In other words, an agency-fee provision prevents employees from reaping all the “benefits of union representation”—higher pay, a better retirement plan, and so forth—while leaving it to others to bear the costs. Ibid. To the Court, the upshot was clear: A government entity could reasonably conclude that such a clause was needed to maintain the kind of exclusive bargaining arrangement that would facilitate peaceful and stable labor relations.

But the Court acknowledged as well the “ First Amendment interests” of dissenting employees. Ibid. It recognized that some workers might oppose positions the union takes in collective bargaining, or even “unionism itself.” Ibid. And still more, it understood that unions often advance “political and ideological” views outside the collective-bargaining context—as when they “contribute to political candidates.” Id., at 232, 234. Employees might well object to the use of their money to support such “ideological causes.” Id., at 235.

So the Court struck a balance, which has governed this area ever since. On the one hand, employees could be required to pay fees to support the union in “collective bargaining, contract administration, and grievance adjustment.” Id., at 225–226. There, the Court held, the “important government interests” in having a stably funded bargaining partner justify “the impingement upon” public employees’ expression. Id., at 225. But on the other hand, employees could not be compelled to fund the union’s political and ideological activities. Outside the collective-bargaining sphere, the Court determined, an employee’s First Amendment rights defeated any conflicting government interest. See id., at 234–235.

II

Unlike the majority, I see nothing “questionable” about Abood’s analysis. Ante, at 7 (quoting Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 17)). The decision’s account of why some government entities have a strong interest in agency fees (now often called fair-share fees) is fundamentally sound. And the balance Abood struck between public employers’ interests and public employees’ expression is right at home in First Amendment doctrine.

A

Abood’s reasoning about governmental interests has three connected parts. First, exclusive representation arrangements benefit some government entities because they can facilitate stable labor relations. In particular, such arrangements eliminate the potential for inter-union conflict and streamline the process of negotiating terms of employment. See 431 U. S., at 220–221. Second, the government may be unable to avail itself of those benefits unless the single union has a secure source of funding. The various tasks involved in representing employees cost money; if the union doesn’t have enough, it can’t be an effective employee representative and bargaining partner. See id., at 221. And third, agency fees are often needed to ensure such stable funding. That is because without those fees, employees have every incentive to free ride on the union dues paid by others. See id., at 222.

The majority does not take issue with the first point. See ante, at 33 (It is “not disputed that the State may require that a union serve as exclusive bargaining agent for its employees” in order to advance the State’s “interests as an employer”). The majority claims that the second point never appears in Abood, but is willing to assume it for the sake of argument. See ante, at 31–32; but see Abood, 431 U. S., at 221 (The tasks of an exclusive representative “often entail expenditure of much time and money”). So the majority stakes everything on the third point—the conclusion that maintaining an effective system of exclusive representation often entails agency fees. Ante, at 12 (It “is simply not true” that exclusive representation and agency fees are “inextricably linked”); see ante, at 14.

But basic economic theory shows why a government would think that agency fees are necessary for exclusive representation to work. What ties the two together, as Abood recognized, is the likelihood of free-riding when fees are absent. Remember that once a union achieves exclusive-representation status, the law compels it to fairly represent all workers in the bargaining unit, whether or not they join or contribute to the union. See supra, at 4. Because of that legal duty, the union cannot give special advantages to its own members. And that in turn creates a collective action problem of nightmarish proportions. Everyone—not just those who oppose the union, but also those who back it—has an economic incentive to withhold dues; only altruism or loyalty—as against financial self-interest—can explain why an employee would pay the union for its services. And so emerged Abood’s rule allowing fair-share agreements: That rule ensured that a union would receive sufficient funds, despite its legally imposed disability, to effectively carry out its duties as exclusive representative of the government’s employees.

The majority’s initial response to this reasoning is simply to dismiss it. “[F]ree rider arguments,” the majority pronounces, “are generally insufficient to overcome First Amendment objections.” Ante, at 13 (quoting Knox, 567 U. S., at 311). “To hold otherwise,” it continues, “would have startling consequences” because “[m]any private groups speak out” in ways that will “benefit[ ] nonmembers.” Ante, at 13. But that disregards the defining characteristic of this free-rider argument—that unions, unlike those many other private groups, must serve members and non-members alike. Groups advocating for “senior citizens or veterans” (to use the majority’s examples) have no legal duty to provide benefits to all those individuals: They can spur people to pay dues by conferring all kinds of special advantages on their dues-paying members. Unions are—by law—in a different position, as this Court has long recognized. See, e.g., Machinists v. Street, 367 U. S. 740, 762 (1961). Justice Scalia, responding to the same argument as the majority’s, may have put the point best. In a way that is true of no other private group, the “law requires the union to carry” non-members—“indeed, requires the union to go out of its way to benefit [them], even at the expense of its other interests.” Lehnert v. Ferris Faculty Assn., 500 U. S. 507, 556 (1991) (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part). That special feature was what justified Abood: “Where the state imposes upon the union a duty to deliver services, it may permit the union to demand reimbursement for them.” 500 U. S., at 556.

The majority’s fallback argument purports to respond to the distinctive position of unions, but still misses Abood’s economic insight. Here, the majority delivers a four-page exegesis on why unions will seek to serve as an exclusive bargaining representative even “if they are not given agency fees.” Ante, at 14; see ante, at 14–17. The gist of the account is that “designation as the exclusive representative confers many benefits,” which outweigh the costs of providing services to non-members. Ante, at 15. But that response avoids the key question, which is whether unions without agency fees will be able to (not whether they will want to) carry on as an effective exclusive representative. And as to that question, the majority again fails to reckon with how economically rational actors behave—in public as well as private workplaces. Without a fair-share agreement, the class of union non-members spirals upward. Employees (including those who love the union) realize that they can get the same benefits even if they let their memberships expire. And as more and more stop paying dues, those left must take up the financial slack (and anyway, begin to feel like suckers)—so they too quit the union. See Ichniowski & Zax, Right-to-Work Laws, Free Riders, and Unionization in the Local Public Sector, 9 J. Labor Economics 255, 257 (1991).[1] And when the vicious cycle finally ends, chances are that the union will lack the resources to effectively perform the responsibilities of an exclusive representative—or, in the worst case, to perform them at all. The result is to frustrate the interests of every government entity that thinks a strong exclusive-representation scheme will promote stable labor relations.

Of course, not all public employers will share that view. Some would rather not bargain with an exclusive representative. Others would prefer that representative to be poorly funded—to serve more as a front than an effectual bargaining partner. But as reflected in the number of fair-share statutes and contracts across the Nation, see supra, at 2, many government entities think that effective exclusive representation makes for good labor relations—and recognize, just as Abood did, that representation of that kind often depends on agency fees. See, e.g., Harris, 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 24) (Kagan, J., dissenting) (describing why Illinois thought that bargaining with an adequately funded exclusive representative of in-home caregivers would enable the State to better serve its dis- abled citizens). Abood respected that state interest; today’s majority fails even to understand it. Little wonder that the majority’s First Amendment analysis, which involves assessing the government’s reasons for imposing agency fees, also comes up short.

B

1

In many cases over many decades, this Court has addressed how the First Amendment applies when the government, acting not as sovereign but as employer, limits its workers’ speech. Those decisions have granted substantial latitude to the government, in recognition of its significant interests in managing its workforce so as to best serve the public. Abood fit neatly with that caselaw, in both reasoning and result. Indeed, its reversal today creates a significant anomaly—an exception, applying to union fees alone, from the usual rules governing public employees’ speech.

“Time and again our cases have recognized that the Government has a much freer hand” in dealing with its employees than with “citizens at large.” NASA v. Nelson, 562 U. S. 134, 148 (2011) (internal quotation marks omitted). The government, we have stated, needs to run “as effectively and efficiently as possible.” Engquist v. Oregon Dept. of Agriculture, 553 U. S. 591, 598 (2008) (internal quotation marks omitted). That means it must be able, much as a private employer is, to manage its workforce as it thinks fit. A public employee thus must submit to “certain limitations on his or her freedom.” Garcetti v. Ceballos, 547 U. S. 410, 418 (2006). Government workers, of course, do not wholly “lose their constitutional rights when they accept their positions.” Engquist, 553 U. S., at 600. But under our precedent, their rights often yield when weighed “against the realities of the employment context.” Ibid. If it were otherwise—if every employment decision were to “bec[o]me a constitutional matter”—“the Government could not function.” NASA, 562 U. S., at 149 (internal quotation marks omitted).

Those principles apply with full force when public employees’ expressive rights are at issue. As we have explained: “Government employers, like private employers, need a significant degree of control over their employees’ words” in order to “efficient[ly] provi[de] public services.” Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 418. Again, significant control does not mean absolute authority. In particular, the Court has guarded against government efforts to “leverage the employment relationship” to shut down its employees’ speech as private citizens. Id., at 419. But when the government imposes speech restrictions relating to workplace operations, of the kind a private employer also would, the Court reliably upholds them. See, e.g., id., at 426; Connick v. Myers, 461 U. S. 138, 154 (1983).

In striking the proper balance between employee speech rights and managerial interests, the Court has long applied a test originating in Pickering v. Board of Ed. of Township High School Dist. 205, Will Cty., 391 U. S. 563 (1968). That case arose out of an individual employment action: the firing of a public school teacher. As we later described the Pickering inquirythe Court first asks whether the employee “spoke as a citizen on a matter of public concern.” Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 418. If she did not—but rather spoke as an employee on a workplace matter—she has no “possibility of a First Amendment claim”: A public employer can curtail her speech just as a private one could. Ibid. But if she did speak as a citizen on a public matter, the public employer must demonstrate “an adequate justification for treating the employee differently from any other member of the general public.” Ibid. The government, that is, needs to show that legitimate workplace interests lay behind the speech regulation.

Abood coheres with that framework. The point here is not, as the majority suggests, that Abood is an overt, one-to-one “application of Pickering.” Ante, at 26. It is not. Abood related to a municipality’s labor policy, and so the Court looked to prior cases about unions, not to Pickering’s analysis of an employee’s dismissal. (And truth be told, Pickering was not at that time much to look at: What the Court now thinks of as the two-step Pickering test, as the majority’s own citations show, really emerged from Garcetti and Connick—two cases post-dating Abood. See ante, at 22.)[2] But Abood and Pickering raised variants of the same basic issue: the extent of the government’s authority to make employment decisions affecting expression. And in both, the Court struck the same basic balance, enabling the government to curb speech when—but only when—the regulation was designed to protect its managerial interests. Consider the parallels:

Like Pickering, Abood drew the constitutional line by analyzing the connection between the government’s managerial interests and different kinds of expression. The Court first discussed the use of agency fees to subsidize the speech involved in “collective bargaining, contract administration, and grievance adjustment.” 431 U. S., at 225–226. It understood that expression (really, who would not?) as intimately tied to the workplace and employment relationship. The speech was about “working conditions, pay, discipline, promotions, leave, vacations, and terminations,” Borough of Duryea v. Guarnieri, 564 U. S. 379, 391 (2011); the speech occurred (almost always) in the workplace; and the speech was directed (at least mainly) to the employer. As noted earlier, Abood described the managerial interests of employers in channeling all that speech through a single union. See 431 U. S., at 220–222, 224–226; supra, at 3. And so Abood allowed the government to mandate fees for collective bargaining—just as Pickering permits the government to regulate employees’ speech on similar workplace matters. But still, Abood realized that compulsion could go too far. The Court barred the use of fees for union speech supporting political candidates or “ideological causes.” 431 U. S., at 235. That speech, it understood, was “unrelated to [the union’s] duties as exclusive bargaining representative,” but instead was directed at the broader public sphere. Id., at 234. And for that reason, the Court saw no legitimate managerial interests in compelling its subsidization. The employees’ First Amendment claims would thus prevail—as, again, they would have under Pickering.

Abood thus dovetailed with the Court’s usual attitude in First Amendment cases toward the regulation of public employees’ speech. That attitude is one of respect—even solicitude—for the government’s prerogatives as an employer. So long as the government is acting as an employer—rather than exploiting the employment relationship for other ends—it has a wide berth, comparable to that of a private employer. And when the regulated expression concerns the terms and conditions of employment—the very stuff of the employment relationship—the government really cannot lose. There, managerial interests are obvious and strong. And so government employees are . . . just employees, even though they work for the government. Except that today the government does lose, in a first for the law. Now, the government can constitutionally adopt all policies regulating core workplace speech in pursuit of managerial goals—save this single one.

2

The majority claims it is not making a special and unjustified exception. It offers two main reasons for declining to apply here our usual deferential approach, as exemplified in Pickering, to the regulation of public employee speech. First, the majority says, this case involves a “blanket” policy rather than an individualized employment decision, so Pickering is a “painful fit.” Ante, at 23. Second, the majority asserts, the regulation here involves compelling rather than restricting speech, so the pain gets sharper still. See ante, at 24–25. And finally, the majority claims that even under the solicitous Pickering standard, the government should lose, because the speech here involves a matter of public concern and the government’s managerial interests do not justify its regulation. See ante, at 27–31. The majority goes wrong at every turn.

First, this Court has applied the same basic approach whether a public employee challenges a general policy or an individualized decision. Even the majority must concede that “we have sometimes looked to Pickering in considering general rules that affect broad categories of employees.” Ante, at 23. In fact, the majority cannot come up with any case in which we have not done so. All it can muster is one case in which while applying the Pickering test to a broad rule—barring any federal employee from accepting any payment for any speech or article on any topic—the Court noted that the policy’s breadth would count against the government at the test’s second step. See United States v. Treasury Employees, 513 U. S. 454 (1995). Which is completely predictable. The inquiry at that stage, after all, is whether the government has an employment-related interest in going however far it has gone—and in Treasury Employees, the government had indeed gone far. (The Court ultimately struck down the rule because it applied to speech in which the government had no identifiable managerial interest. See id., at 470, 477.) Nothing in Treasury Employees suggests that the Court defers only to ad hoc actions, and not to general rules, about public employee speech. That would be a perverse regime, given the greater regularity of rulemaking and the lesser danger of its abuse. So I would wager a small fortune that the next time a general rule governing public employee speech comes before us, we will dust off Pickering.

Second, the majority’s distinction between compelling and restricting speech also lacks force. The majority posits that compelling speech always works a greater injury, and so always requires a greater justification. See ante, at 8. But the only case the majority cites for that reading of our precedent is possibly (thankfully) the most exceptional in our First Amendment annals: It involved the state forcing children to swear an oath contrary to their religious beliefs. See ibid. (quoting West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943)). Regulations challenged as compelling expression do not usually look anything like that—and for that reason, the standard First Amendment rule is that the “difference between compelled speech and compelled silence” is “without constitutional significance.” Riley v. National Federation of Blind of N. C., Inc., 487 U. S. 781, 796 (1988); see Wooley v. Maynard, 430 U. S. 705, 714 (1977) (referring to “[t]he right to speak and the right to refrain from speaking” as “complementary components” of the First Amendment). And if anything, the First Amendment scales tip the opposite way when (as here) the government is not compelling actual speech, but instead compelling a subsidy that others will use for expression. See Brief for Eugene Volokh et al. as Amici Curiae 4–5 (offering many examples to show that the First Amendment “simply do[es] not guarantee that one’s hard-earned dollars will never be spent on speech one disapproves of”).[3] So when a government mandates a speech subsidy from a public employee—here, we might think of it as levying a tax to support collective bargaining—it should get at least as much deference as when it restricts the employee’s speech. As this case shows, the former may advance a managerial interest as well as the latter—in which case the government’s “freer hand” in dealing with its employees should apply with equal (if not greater) force. NASA, 562 U. S., at 148.

Third and finally, the majority errs in thinking that under the usual deferential approach, the government should lose this case. The majority mainly argues here that, at Pickering’s first step, “union speech in collective bargaining” is a “matter of great public concern” because it “affect[s] how public money is spent” and addresses “other important matters” like teacher merit pay or tenure. Ante, at 27, 29 (internal quotation marks omitted). But to start, the majority misunderstands the threshold inquiry set out in Pickering and later cases. The question is not, as the majority seems to think, whether the public is, or should be, interested in a government employee’s speech. Instead, the question is whether that speech is about and directed to the workplace—as contrasted with the broader public square. Treasury Employees offers the Court’s fullest explanation. The Court held there that the government’s policy prevented employees from speaking as “citizen[s]” on “matters of public concern.” 513 U. S., at 466 (quoting Pickering, 391 U. S., at 568). Why? Because the speeches and articles “were addressed to a public audience, were made outside the workplace, and involved content largely unrelated to their Government employment.” 513 U. S., at 466; see id., at 465, 470 (repeating that analysis twice more). The Court could not have cared less whether the speech at issue was “important.” Ante, at 29. It instead asked whether the speech was truly of the workplace—addressed to it, made in it, and (most of all) about it.

Consistent with that focus, speech about the terms and conditions of employment—the essential stuff of collective bargaining—has never survived Pickering’s first step. This Court has rejected all attempts by employees to make a “federal constitutional issue” out of basic “employment matters, including working conditions, pay, discipline, promotions, leave, vacations, and terminations.” Guarnieri, 564 U. S., at 391; see Board of Comm’rs, Wabaunsee Cty. v. Umbehr, 518 U. S. 668, 675 (1996) (stating that public employees’ “speech on merely private employment matters is unprotected”). For that reason, even the Justices who originally objected to Abood conceded that the use of agency fees for bargaining on “economic issues” like “salaries and pension benefits” would not raise significant First Amendment questions. 431 U. S., at 263, n. 16 (Powell, J., concurring in judgment). Of course, most of those issues have budgetary consequences: They “affect[ ] how public money is spent.” Ante, at 29. And some raise important non-budgetary disputes; teacher merit pay is a good example, see ante, at 30. But arguing about the terms of employment is still arguing about the terms of employment: The workplace remains both the context and the subject matter of the expression. If all that speech really counted as “of public concern,” as the majority suggests, the mass of public employees’ complaints (about pay and benefits and workplace policy and such) would become “federal constitutional issue[s].” Guarnieri, 564 U. S., at 391. And contrary to decades’ worth of precedent, government employers would then have far less control over their workforces than private employers do. See supra, at 9–11.

Consider an analogy, not involving union fees: Suppose a government entity disciplines a group of (non-unionized) employees for agitating for a better health plan at various inopportune times and places. The better health plan will of course drive up public spending; so according to the majority’s analysis, the employees’ speech satisfies Pickering’s “public concern” test. Or similarly, suppose a public employer penalizes a group of (non-unionized) teachers who protest merit pay in the school cafeteria. Once again, the majority’s logic runs, the speech is of “public concern,” so the employees have a plausible First Amendment claim. (And indeed, the majority appears to concede as much, by asserting that the results in these hypotheticals should turn on various “factual detail[s]” relevant to the interest balancing that occurs at the Pickering test’s second step. Ante, at 32, n. 23.) But in fact, this Court has always understood such cases to end at Pickering’s first step: If an employee’s speech is about, in, and directed to the workplace, she has no “possibility of a First Amendment claim.” Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 418; see supra, at 11. So take your pick. Either the majority is exposing government entities across the country to increased First Amendment litigation and liability—and thus preventing them from regulating their workforces as private employers could. Or else, when actual cases of this kind come around, we will discover that today’s majority has crafted a “unions only” carve-out to our employee-speech law.

What’s more, the government should prevail even if the speech involved in collective bargaining satisfies Pickering’s first part. Recall that the next question is whether the government has shown “an adequate justification for treating the employee differently from any other member of the general public.” Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 418; supra, at 11. That inquiry is itself famously respectful of government interests. This Court has reversed the government only when it has tried to “leverage the employment relationship” to achieve an outcome unrelated to the workplace’s “effective functioning.” Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 419; Rankin v. McPherson, 483 U. S. 378, 388 (1987). Nothing like that is true here. As Abood described, many government entities have found agency fees the best way to ensure a stable and productive relationship with an exclusive bargaining agent. See 431 U. S., at 220–221, 224–226; supra, at 3–4. And here, Illinois and many governmental amici have explained again how agency fees advance their workplace goals. See Brief for State Respondents 12, 36; Brief for Governor Tom Wolf et al. as Amici Curiae 21–33. In no other employee-speech case has this Court dismissed such work-related interests, as the majority does here. See supra, at 6–9 (discussing the majority’s refusal to engage with the logic of the State’s position). Time and again, the Court has instead respected and acceded to those interests—just as Abood did.

The key point about Abood is that it fit naturally with this Court’s consistent teaching about the permissibility of regulating public employees’ speech. The Court allows a government entity to regulate that expression in aid of managing its workforce to effectively provide public services. That is just what a government aims to do when it enforces a fair-share agreement. And so, the key point about today’s decision is that it creates an unjustified hole in the law, applicable to union fees alone. This case is sui generis among those addressing public employee speech—and will almost surely remain so.

III

But the worse part of today’s opinion is where the majority subverts all known principles of stare decisis. The majority makes plain, in the first 33 pages of its decision, that it believes Abood was wrong.[4] But even if that were true (which it is not), it is not enough. “Respecting stare decisis means sticking to some wrong decisions.” Kimble v. Marvel Entertainment, LLC, 576 U. S. ___, ___ (2015) (slip op., at 7). Any departure from settled precedent (so the Court has often stated) demands a “special justification—over and above the belief that the precedent was wrongly decided.” Id., at ___ (slip op., at 8) (internal quotation marks omitted); see, e.g., Arizona v. Rumsey, 467 U. S. 203, 212 (1984). And the majority does not have anything close. To the contrary: all that is “special” in this case—especially the massive reliance interests at stake—demands retaining Abood, beyond even the normal precedent.

Consider first why these principles about precedent are so important. Stare decisis—“the idea that today’s Court should stand by yesterday’s decisions”—is “a foundation stone of the rule of law.” Kimble, 576 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 7) (quoting Michigan v. Bay Mills Indian Community, 572 U. S. ___, ___ (2014) (slip op., at 15)). It “promotes the evenhanded, predictable, and consistent development” of legal doctrine. Payne v. Tennessee, 501 U. S. 808, 827 (1991). It fosters respect for and reliance on judicial decisions. See ibid. And it “contributes to the actual and perceived integrity of the judicial process,” ibid., by ensuring that decisions are “founded in the law rather than in the proclivities of individuals,” Vasquez v. Hillery, 474 U. S. 254, 265 (1986).

And Abood is not just any precedent: It is embedded in the law (not to mention, as I’ll later address, in the world) in a way not many decisions are. Over four decades, this Court has cited Abood favorably many times, and has affirmed and applied its central distinction between the costs of collective bargaining (which the government can charge to all employees) and those of political activities (which it cannot). See, e.g., Locke v. Karass, 555 U. S. 207, 213–214 (2009); Lehnert, 500 U. S., at 519; Teachers v. Hudson, 475 U. S. 292, 301–302 (1986); Ellis v. Railway Clerks, 466 U. S. 435, 455–457 (1984). Reviewing those decisions not a decade ago, this Court—unanimously—called the Abood rule “a general First Amendment principle.” Locke, 555 U. S., at 213. And indeed, the Court has relied on that rule when deciding cases involving compelled speech subsidies outside the labor sphere—cases today’s decision does not question. See, e.g., Keller v. State Bar of Cal., 496 U. S. 1, 9–17 (1990) (state bar fees); Board of Regents of Univ. of Wis. System v. Southworth, 529 U. S. 217, 230–232 (2000) (public university student fees); Glickman v. Wileman Brothers & Elliott, Inc., 521 U. S. 457, 471–473 (1997) (commercial advertising assessments); see also n. 3, supra.

Ignoring our repeated validation of Abood, the majority claims it has become “an outlier among our First Amendment cases.” Ante, at 42. That claim fails most spectacularly for reasons already discussed: Abood coheres with the Pickering approach to reviewing regulation of public employees’ speech. See supra, at 11–13. Needing to stretch further, the majority suggests that Abood conflicts with “our political patronage decisions.” Ante, at 44. But in fact those decisions strike a balance much like Abood’s. On the one hand, the Court has enabled governments to compel policymakers to support a political party, because that requirement (like fees for collective bargaining) can reasonably be thought to advance the interest in workplace effectiveness. See Elrod v. Burns, 427 U. S. 347, 366–367 (1976); Branti v. Finkel, 445 U. S. 507, 517 (1980). On the other hand, the Court has barred governments from extending that rule to non-policymaking employees because that application (like fees for political campaigns) can’t be thought to promote that interest, see Elrod, 427 U. S., at 366; the government is instead trying to “leverage the employment relationship” to achieve other goals, Garcetti, 547 U. S., at 419. So all that the majority has left is Knox and Harris. See ante, at 43. Dicta in those recent decisions indeed began the assault on Abood that has culminated today. But neither actually addressed the extent to which a public employer may regulate its own employees’ speech. Relying on them is bootstrapping—and mocking stare decisis. Don’t like a decision? Just throw some gratuitous criticisms into a couple of opinions and a few years later point to them as “special justifications.”

The majority is likewise wrong to invoke “workability” as a reason for overruling AboodAnte, at 38. Does Abood require drawing a line? Yes, between a union’s collective-bargaining activities and its political activities. Is that line perfectly and pristinely “precis[e],” as the majority demands? Ante, at 38. Well, not quite that—but as exercises of constitutional linedrawing go, Abood stands well above average. In the 40 years since Abood, this Court has had to resolve only a handful of cases raising questions about the distinction. To my knowledge, the circuit courts are not divided on any classification issue; neither are they issuing distress signals of the kind that sometimes prompt the Court to reverse a decision. See, e.g., Johnson v. United States, 576 U. S. ___ (2015) (overruling precedent because of frequent splits and mass confusion). And that tranquility is unsurprising: There may be some gray areas (there always are), but in the mine run of cases, everyone knows the difference between politicking and collective bargaining. The majority cites some disagreement in two of the classification cases this Court decided—as if non-unanimity among Justices were something startling. And it notes that a dissenter in one of those cases called the Court’s approach “malleable” and “not principled,” ante, at 39—as though those weren’t stock terms in dissenting vocabulary. See, e.g., Murr v. Wisconsin, 582 U. S. ___, ___ (2017) (Roberts, C. J., dissenting) (slip op., at 2); Dietz v. Bouldin, 579 U. S. ___, ___ (2016) (Thomas, J., dissenting) (slip op., at 1); Alabama Legislative Black Caucus v. Alabama, 575 U. S. ___, ___ (2015) (slip op., at 13) (Scalia, J., dissenting). As I wrote in Harris a few Terms ago: “If the kind of hand-wringing about blurry lines that the majority offers were enough to justify breaking with precedent, we might have to discard whole volumes of the U. S. Reports.” 573 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 15).

And in any event, one stare decisis factor—reliance—dominates all others here and demands keeping AboodStare decisis, this Court has held, “has added force when the legislature, in the public sphere, and citizens, in the private realm, have acted in reliance on a previous decision.” Hilton v. South Carolina Public Railways Comm’n, 502 U. S. 197, 202 (1991). That is because overruling a decision would then “require an extensive legislative response” or “dislodge settled rights and expectations.” Ibid. Both will happen here: The Court today wreaks havoc on entrenched legislative and contractual arrangements.

Over 20 States have by now enacted statutes authorizing fair-share provisions. To be precise, 22 States, the District of Columbia, and Puerto Rico—plus another two States for police and firefighter unions. Many of those States have multiple statutory provisions, with variations for different categories of public employees. See, e.g., Brief for State of California as Amicus Curiae 24–25. Every one of them will now need to come up with new ways—elaborated in new statutes—to structure relations between government employers and their workers. The majority responds, in a footnote no less, that this is of no proper concern to the Court. See ante, at 47, n. 27. But in fact, we have weighed heavily against “abandon[ing] our settled jurisprudence” that “[s]tate legislatures have relied upon” it and would have to “reexamine [and amend] their statutes” if it were overruled. Allied-Signal, Inc. v. Director, Div. of Taxation, 504 U. S. 768, 785 (1992); Hilton, 502 U. S., at 203.

Still more, thousands of current contracts covering millions of workers provide for agency fees. Usually, this Court recognizes that “[c]onsiderations in favor of stare decisis are at their acme in cases involving property and contract rights.” Payne, 501 U. S., at 828. Not today. The majority undoes bargains reached all over the country.[5] It prevents the parties from fulfilling other commitments they have made based on those agreements. It forces the parties—immediately—to renegotiate once-settled terms and create new tradeoffs. It does so knowing that many of the parties will have to revise (or redo) multiple contracts simultaneously. (New York City, for example, has agreed to agency fees in 144 contracts with 97 public-sector unions. See Brief for New York City Municipal Labor Committee as Amicus Curiae 4.) It does so knowing that those renegotiations will occur in an environment of legal uncertainty, as state governments scramble to enact new labor legislation. See supra, at 23. It does so with no real clue of what will happen next—of how its action will alter public-sector labor relations. It does so even though the government services affected—policing, firefighting, teaching, transportation, sanitation (and more)—affect the quality of life of tens of millions of Americans.

The majority asserts that no one should care much because the canceled agreements are “of rather short duration” and would “expire on their own in a few years’ time.” Ante, at 45, 46. But to begin with, that response ignores the substantial time and effort that state legislatures will have to devote to revamping their statutory schemes. See supra, at 23. And anyway, it misunderstands the nature of contract negotiations when the parties have a continuing relationship. The parties, in renewing an old collective-bargaining agreement, don’t start on an empty page. Instead, various “long-settled” terms—like fair-share provisions—are taken as a given. Brief for Governor Tom Wolf et al. 11; see Brief for New York City Sergeants Benevolent Assn. as Amicus Curiae 18. So the majority’s ruling does more than advance by a few years a future renegotiation (though even that would be significant). In most cases, it commands new bargaining over how to replace a term that the parties never expected to change. And not just new bargaining; given the interests at stake, complicated and possibly contentious bargaining as well. See Brief for Governor Tom Wolf et al. 11.[6]

The majority, though, offers another reason for not worrying about reliance: The parties, it says, “have been on notice for years regarding this Court’s misgivings about Abood.” Ante, at 45. Here, the majority proudly lays claim to its 6-year crusade to ban agency fees. In Knox, the majority relates, it described Abood as an “anomaly.” Ante, at 45 (quoting 567 U. S., at 311). Then, in Harris, it “cataloged Abood’s many weaknesses.” Ante, at 45. Finally, in Friedrichs, “we granted a petition for certiorari asking us to” reverse Abood, but found ourselves equally divided. Ante, at 45. “During this period of time,” the majority concludes, public-sector unions “must have understood that the constitutionality of [an agency-fee] provision was uncertain.” Ibid. And so, says the majority, they should have structured their affairs accordingly.

But that argument reflects a radically wrong understanding of how stare decisis operates. Justice Scalia once confronted a similar argument for “disregard[ing] reliance interests” and showed how antithetical it was to rule-of-law principles. Quill Corp. v. North Dakota, 504 U. S. 298, 320 (1992) (concurring opinion). He noted first what we always tell lower courts: “If a precedent of this Court has direct application in a case, yet appears to rest on reasons rejected in some other line of decisions, [they] should follow the case which directly controls, leaving to this Court the prerogative of overruling its own decisions.” Id., at 321 (quoting Rodriguez de Quijas v. Shearson/ American Express, Inc., 490 U. S. 477, 484 (1989); some alterations omitted). That instruction, Justice Scalia explained, was “incompatible” with an expectation that “private parties anticipate our overrulings.” 406 U. S., at 320. He concluded: “[R]eliance upon a square, unabandoned holding of the Supreme Court is always justifiable reliance.” Ibid. Abood’s holding was square. It was unabandoned before today. It was, in other words, the law—however much some were working overtime to make it not. Parties, both unions and governments, were thus justified in relying on it. And they did rely, to an extent rare among our decisions. To dismiss the overthrowing of their settled expectations as entailing no more than some “adjustments” and “unpleasant transition costs,” ante, at 47, is to trivialize stare decisis.

IV

There is no sugarcoating today’s opinion. The majority overthrows a decision entrenched in this Nation’s law—and in its economic life—for over 40 years. As a result, it prevents the American people, acting through their state and local officials, from making important choices about workplace governance. And it does so by weaponizing the First Amendment, in a way that unleashes judges, now and in the future, to intervene in economic and regulatory policy.

Departures from stare decisis are supposed to be “exceptional action[s]” demanding “special justification,” Rumsey, 467 U. S., at 212—but the majority offers nothing like that here. In contrast to the vigor of its attack on Abood, the majority’s discussion of stare decisis barely limps to the finish line. And no wonder: The standard factors this Court considers when deciding to overrule a decision all cut one way. Abood’s legal underpinnings have not eroded over time: Abood is now, as it was when issued, consistent with this Court’s First Amendment law. Abood provided a workable standard for courts to apply. And Abood has generated enormous reliance interests. The majority has overruled Abood for no exceptional or special reason, but because it never liked the decision. It has overruled Abood because it wanted to.

Because, that is, it wanted to pick the winning side in what should be—and until now, has been—an energetic policy debate. Some state and local governments (and the constituents they serve) think that stable unions promote healthy labor relations and thereby improve the provision of services to the public. Other state and local governments (and their constituents) think, to the contrary, that strong unions impose excessive costs and impair those services. Americans have debated the pros and cons for many decades—in large part, by deciding whether to use fair-share arrangements. Yesterday, 22 States were on one side, 28 on the other (ignoring a couple of in-betweeners). Today, that healthy—that democratic—debate ends. The majority has adjudged who should prevail. Indeed, the majority is bursting with pride over what it has accomplished: Now those 22 States, it crows, “can follow the model of the federal government and 28 other States.” Ante, at 47, n. 27.

And maybe most alarming, the majority has chosen the winners by turning the First Amendment into a sword, and using it against workaday economic and regulatory policy. Today is not the first time the Court has wielded the First Amendment in such an aggressive way. See, e.g., National Institute of Family and Life Advocates v. Becerraante, p. ___ (invalidating a law requiring medical and counseling facilities to provide relevant information to users); Sorrell v. IMS Health Inc., 564 U. S. 552 (2011) (striking down a law that restricted pharmacies from selling various data). And it threatens not to be the last. Speech is everywhere—a part of every human activity (employment, health care, securities trading, you name it). For that reason, almost all economic and regulatory policy affects or touches speech. So the majority’s road runs long. And at every stop are black-robed rulers overriding citizens’ choices. The First Amendment was meant for better things. It was meant not to undermine but to protect democratic governance—including over the role of public-sector unions.

Notes

1  The majority relies on statistics from the federal workforce (where agency fees are unlawful) to suggest that public employees do not act in accord with economic logic. See ante, at 12. But first, many fewer federal employees pay dues than have voted for a union to represent them, indicating that free-riding in fact pervades the federal sector. See, e.g., R. Kearney & P. Mareschal, Labor Relations in the Public Sector 26 (5th ed. 2014). And second, that sector is not typical of other public workforces. Bargaining in the federal sphere is limited; most notably, it does not extend to wages and benefits. See Fort Stewart Schools v. FLRA, 495 U. S. 641, 649 (1990). That means union operating expenses are lower than they are elsewhere. And the gap further widens because the federal sector uses large, often national, bargaining units that provide unions with economies of scale. See Brief for International Brotherhood of Teamsters as Amicus Curiae 7. For those reasons, the federal workforce is the wrong place to look for meaningful empirical evidence on the issues here.
2  For those reasons, it is not surprising that the “categorization schemes” in Abood and Pickering are not precisely coterminous. Ante, at 25. The two cases are fraternal rather than identical twins—both standing for the proposition that the government receives great deference when it regulates speech as an employer rather than as a sovereign. See infra this page and 12–13.
3  That’s why this Court has blessed the constitutionality of compelled speech subsidies in a variety of cases beyond Abood, involving a variety of contexts beyond labor relations. The list includes mandatory fees imposed on state bar members (for professional expression); university students (for campus events); and fruit processors (for generic advertising). See Keller v. State Bar of Cal., 496 U. S. 1, 14 (1990); Board of Regents of Univ. of Wis. System v. Southworth, 529 U. S. 217, 233 (2000); Glickman v. Wileman Brothers & Elliott, Inc., 521 U. S. 457, 474 (1997); see also infra, at 20.
4  And then, after ostensibly turning to stare decisis, the majority spends another four pages insisting that Abood was “not well reasoned,” which is just more of the same. Ante, at 38; see ante, at 35–38.
5  Indeed, some agency-fee provisions, if canceled, could bring down entire contracts because they lack severability clauses. See ante, at 46 (noting that unions could have negotiated for that result); Brief for Governor Tom Wolf et al. as Amici Curiae 11.
6  In a single, cryptic sentence, the majority also claims that arguments about reliance “based on [Abood’s] clarity are misplaced” because Abood did not provide a “clear or easily applicable standard” to separate fees for collective bargaining from those for political activities. Ante, at 45. But to begin, the standard for separating those activities was clear and workable, as I have already shown. See supra, at 21–22. And in any event, the reliance Abood engendered was based not on the clarity of that line, but on the clarity of its holding that governments and unions could generally agree to fair-share arrangements.
 

Dissent

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

No. 16–1466

_________________

MARK JANUS, PETITIONER v. AMERICAN FEDER- ATION OF STATE, COUNTY, AND MUNICIPAL EMPLOYEES, COUNCIL 31, et al.

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the seventh circuit

[June 27, 2018]

 

Justice Sotomayor, dissenting.

I join Justice Kagan’s dissent in full. Although I joined the majority in Sorrell v. IMS Health Inc., 564 U. S. 552 (2011), I disagree with the way that this Court has since interpreted and applied that opinion. See, e.g., National Institute of Family and Life Advocates v. Becerraante, p. ___. Having seen the troubling development in First Amendment jurisprudence over the years, both in this Court and in lower courts, I agree fully with Justice Kagan that Sorrell—in the way it has been read by this Court—has allowed courts to “wiel[d] the First Amendment in . . . an aggressive way” just as the majority does today. Post, at 27.