Justice Scalia

delivered the opinion of the Court.

This case presents the question whether workplace harassment can violate Title VII’s prohibition against “diserimina-t[ion]... because of... sex,” 42 U. S. C. §2000e-2(a)(I), when the harasser and the harassed employee are of the same sex.

I

The District Court having granted summary judgment for respondents, we must assume the facts to be as alleged by petitioner Joseph Oncale. The precise details are irrelevant *77to the legal point we must decide, and in the interest of both brevity and dignity we shall describe them only generally. In late October 1991, Oncale was working for respondent Sundowner Offshore Services, Inc., on a Chevron U. S. A., Inc., oil platform in the Gulf of Mexico. He was employed as a roustabout on an eight-man crew which included respondents John Lyons, Danny Pippen, and Brandon Johnson. Lyons, the crane operator, and Pippen, the driller, had supervisory authority, App. 41, 77, 43. On several occasions, Oncale was forcibly subjected to sex-related, humiliating actions against him by Lyons, Pippen, and Johnson in the presence of the rest of the crew. Pippen and Lyons also physically assaulted Oncale in a sexual manner, and Lyons threatened him with rape.

Oneale’s complaints to supervisory personnel produced no remedial action; in fact, the company’s Safety Compliance Clerk, Valent Hohen, told Oncale that Lyons and Pippen “picked [on] him all the time too,” and called him a name suggesting homosexuality. Id., at 77. Oncale eventually quit — asking that his pink slip reflect that he “voluntarily left due to sexual harassment and verbal abuse.” Id., at 79. When asked at his deposition why he left Sundowner, Oncale stated: “I felt that if I didn’t leave my job, that I would be raped or forced to have sex.” Id., at 71.

Oncale filed a complaint against Sundowner in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Louisiana, alleging that he was discriminated against in his employment because of his sex. Relying on the Fifth Circuit’s decision in Garcia v. Elf Atochem North America, 28 F. 3d 446, 451-452 (1994), the District Court held that “Mr. Oncale, a male, has no cause of action under Title VII for harassment by male co-workers.” App. 106. On appeal, a panel of the Fifth Circuit concluded that Garcia was binding Circuit precedent, and affirmed. 83 F. 3d 118 (1996). We granted certiorari. 520 U. S. 1263 (1997).

*78H-4 H-i

Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 provides, in relevant part, that “[i]t shall be an unlawful employment practice for an employer ... to discriminate against any individual with respect to his compensation, terms, conditions, or privileges of employment, because of such individual’s race, color, religion, sex, or national origin.” 78 Stat. 255, as amended, 42 U. S. C. § 2000e-2(a)(1). We have held that this not only covers “terms” and “conditions” in the narrow contractual sense, but “evinces a congressional intent to strike at the entire spectrum of disparate treatment of men and women in employment.” Meritor Savings Bank, FSB v. Vinson, 477 U. S. 57, 64 (1986) (citations and internal quotation marks omitted). “When the workplace is permeated with discriminatory intimidation, ridicule, and insult that is sufficiently severe or pervasive to alter the conditions of the victim’s employment and create an abusive working environment, Title VII is violated.” Harris v. Forklift Systems, Inc., 510 U. S. 17, 21 (1993) (citations and internal quotation marks omitted).

Title VII’s prohibition of discrimination “because of . . . sex” protects men as well as women, Newport News Shipbuilding & Dry Dock Co. v. EEOC, 462 U. S. 669, 682 (1983), and in the related context of racial discrimination in the workplace we have rejected any conclusive presumption that an employer will not discriminate against members of his own race. “Because of the many facets of human motivation, it would be unwise to presume as a matter of law that human beings of one definable group will not discriminate against other members of their group.” Castaneda v. Partida, 430 U. S. 482, 499 (1977). See also id., at 515-516, n. 6 (Powell, J., joined by Burger, C. J., and Rehnquist, J., dissenting). In Johnson v. Transportation Agency, Santa Clara Cty., 480 U. S. 616 (1987), a male employee claimed that his employer discriminated against him because of his sex when it preferred a female employee for promotion. Al*79though we ultimately rejected the claim on other grounds, we did not consider it significant that the supervisor who made that decision was also a man. See id., at 624-625. If our precedents leave any doubt on the question, we hold today that nothing in Title VII necessarily bars a claim of discrimination “because of... sex” merely because the plaintiff and the defendant (or the person charged with acting on behalf of the defendant) are of the same sex.

Courts have had little trouble with that principle in cases like Johnson, where an employee claims to have been passed over for a job or promotion. But when the issue arises in the context of a “hostile environment” sexual harassment claim, the state and federal courts have taken a bewildering variety of stances. Some, like the Fifth Circuit in this ease, have held that same-sex sexual harassment claims are never cognizable under Title VII. See also, e. g., Goluszek v. H. P. Smith, 697 F. Supp. 1452 (ND Ill. 1988). Other decisions say that such claims are actionable only if the plaintiff can prove that the harasser is homosexual (and thus presumably motivated by sexual desire). Compare McWilliams v. Fairfax County Board of Supervisors, 72 F. 3d 1191 (CA4 1996), with Wrightson v. Pizza Hut of America, 99 F. 3d 138 (CA4 1996). Still others suggest that workplace harassment that is sexual in content is always actionable, regardless of the harasser’s sex, sexual orientation, or motivations. See Doe v. Belleville, 119 F. 3d 563 (CA7 1997).

We see no justification in the statutory language or our precedents for a categorical rule excluding same-sex harassment claims from the coverage of Title VII. As some courts have observed, male-on-male sexual harassment in the workplace was assuredly not the principal evil Congress was concerned with when it enacted Title VII. But statutory prohibitions often go beyond the principal evil to cover reasonably comparable evils, and it is ultimately the provisions of our laws rather than the principal concerns of our legislators by which we are governed. Title VII prohibits “discrimina-*80t[ion].. . because of. .. sex” in the “terms” or “conditions” of employment. Our holding that this includes sexual harassment must extend to sexual harassment of any kind that meets the statutory requirements.

Respondents and their amici contend that recognizing liability for same-sex harassment will transform Title VII into a general civility code for the American workplace. But that risk is no greater for same-sex than for opposite-sex harassment, and is adequately met by careful attention to the requirements of the statute. Title VII does not prohibit all verbal or physical harassment in the workplace; it is directed only at “discrimination] . . . because of . . . sex.” We have never held that workplace harassment, even harassment between men and women, is automatically discrimination because of sex merely because the words used have sexual content or connotations. “The critical issue, Title VII’s text indicates, is whether members of one sex are exposed to disadvantageous terms or conditions of employment to which members of the other sex are not exposed.” Harris, supra, at 25 (Ginsburg, J., concurring).

Courts and juries have found the inference of discrimination easy to draw in most male-female sexual harassment situations, because the challenged conduct typically involves explicit or implicit proposals of sexual activity; it is reasonable to assume those proposals would not have been made to someone of the same sex. The same chain of inference would be available to a plaintiff alleging same-sex harassment, if there were credible evidence that the harasser was homosexual. But harassing conduct need not be motivated by sexual desire to support an inference of discrimination on the basis of sex. A trier of fact might reasonably find such discrimination, for example, if a female victim is harassed in such sex-specific and derogatory terms by another woman as to make it clear that the harasser is motivated by general hostility to the presence of women in the workplace. A same-sex harassment plaintiff may also, of course, offer di*81reet comparative evidence about how the alleged harasser treated members of both sexes in a mixed-sex workplace. Whatever evidentiary route the plaintiff chooses to follow, he or she must always prove that the conduct at issue was not merely tinged with offensive sexual connotations, but actually constituted “discrimination] ... because of... sex.”

And there is another requirement that prevents Title VII from expanding into a general civility code: As we emphasized in Meritor and Harris, the statute does not reach genuine but innocuous differences in the ways men and women routinely interact with members of the same sex and of the opposite sex. The prohibition of harassment on the basis of sex requires neither asexuality nor androgyny in the workplace; it forbids only behavior so objectively offensive as to alter the “conditions” of the victim’s employment. “Conduct that is not severe or pervasive enough to create an objectively hostile or abusive work environment — an environment that a reasonable person would find hostile or abusive — is beyond Title VII’s purview.” Harris, 510 U. S., at 21, citing Meritor, 477 U. S., at 67. We have always regarded that requirement as crucial, and as sufficient to ensure that courts and juries do not mistake ordinary socializing in the workplace — such as male-on-male horseplay or intersexual flirtation — for discriminatory “conditions of employment.”

We have emphasized, moreover, that the objective severity of harassment should be judged from the perspective of a reasonable person in the plaintiff’s position, considering “all the circumstances.” Harris, supra, at 23. In same-sex (as in all) harassment cases, that inquiry requires careful consideration of the social context in which particular behavior occurs and is experienced by its target. A professional football player’s working environment is not severely or pervasively abusive, for example, if the coach smacks him on the buttocks as he heads onto the field — even if the same behavior would reasonably be experienced as abusive by the coach’s secretary (male or female) back at the office. The *82real social impact of workplace behavior often depends on a constellation of surrounding circumstances, expectations, and relationships which are not fully captured by a simple recitation of the words used or the physical acts performed. Common sense, and an appropriate sensitivity to social context, will enable courts and juries to distinguish between simple teasing or roughhousing among members of the same sex, and conduct which a reasonable person in the plaintiff’s position would find severely hostile or abusive.

III

Because we conclude that sex discrimination consisting of same-sex sexual harassment is actionable under Title VII, the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit is reversed, and the ease is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Justice Thomas,

concurring.

I concur because the Court stresses that in every sexual harassment ease, the plaintiff must plead and ultimately prove Title VII’s statutory requirement that there be discrimination “because of... sex.”

Justice White

delivered the opinion of the Court.

In August 1982, respondent Hardwick (hereafter respondent) was charged with violating the Georgia statute crimi*188nalizing sodomy1 by committing that act with another adult male in the bedroom of respondent’s home. After a preliminary hearing, the District Attorney decided not to present the matter to the grand jury unless further evidence developed.

Respondent then brought suit in the Federal District Court, challenging the constitutionality of the statute insofar as it criminalized consensual sodomy.2 He asserted that he was a practicing homosexual, that the Georgia sodomy statute, as administered by the defendants, placed him in imminent danger of arrest, and that the statute for several reasons violates the Federal Constitution. The District Court granted the defendants’ motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim, relying on Doe v. Commonwealth’s Attorney for the City of Richmond, 403 F. Supp. 1199 (ED Va. 1975), which this Court summarily affirmed, 425 U. S. 901 (1976).

*189A divided panel of the Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit reversed. 760 F. 2d 1202 (1985). The court first held that, because Doe was distinguishable and in any event had been undermined by later decisions, our summary affirmance in that case did not require affirmance of the District Court. Relying on our decisions in Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965); Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438 (1972); Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969); and Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973), the court went on to hold that the Georgia statute violated respondent’s fundamental rights because his homosexual activity is a private and intimate association that is beyond the reach of state regulation by reason of the Ninth Amendment and the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. The case was remanded for trial, at which, to prevail, the State would have to prove that the statute is supported by a compelling interest and is the most narrowly drawn means of achieving that end.

Because other Courts of Appeals have arrived at judgments contrary to that of the Eleventh Circuit in this case,3 we granted the Attorney General’s petition for certiorari questioning the holding that the sodomy statute violates the fundamental rights of homosexuals. We agree with petitioner that the Court of Appeals erred, and hence reverse its judgment.4

*190This case does not require a judgment on whether laws against sodomy between consenting adults in general, or between homosexuals in particular, are wise or desirable. It raises no question about the right or propriety of state legislative decisions to repeal their laws that criminalize homosexual sodomy, or of state-court decisions invalidating those laws on state constitutional grounds. The issue presented is whether the Federal Constitution confers a fundamental right upon homosexuals to engage in sodomy and hence invalidates the laws of the many States that still make such conduct illegal and have done so for a very long time. The case also calls for some judgment about the limits of the Court’s role in carrying out its constitutional mandate.

We first register our disagreement with the Court of Appeals and with respondent that the Court’s prior cases have construed the Constitution to confer a right of privacy that extends to homosexual sodomy and for all intents and purposes have decided this case. The reach of this line of cases was sketched in Carey v. Population Services International, 431 U. S. 678, 685 (1977). Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 U. S. 510 (1925), and Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390 (1923), were described as dealing with child rearing and education; Prince v. Massachusetts, 321 U. S. 158 (1944), with family relationships; Skinner v. Oklahoma ex rel. Williamson, 316 U. S. 535 (1942), with procreation; Loving v. Virginia, 388 U. S. 1 (1967), with marriage; Griswold v. Connecticut, supra, and Eisenstadt v. Baird, supra, with contraception; and Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973), with abortion. The latter three cases were interpreted as construing the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to confer a fundamental individual right to decide whether or not to beget or bear a child. Carey v. Population Services International, supra, at 688-689.

Accepting the decisions in these cases and the above description of them, we think it evident that none of the rights announced in those cases bears any resemblance to the *191claimed constitutional right of homosexuals to engage in acts of sodomy that is asserted in this case. No connection between family, marriage, or procreation on the one hand and homosexual activity on the other has been demonstrated, either by the Court of Appeals or by respondent. Moreover, any claim that these cases nevertheless stand for the proposition that any kind of private sexual conduct between consenting adults is constitutionally insulated from state proscription is unsupportable. Indeed, the Court’s opinion in Carey twice asserted that the privacy right, which the Griswold line of cases found to be one of the protections provided by the Due Process Clause, did not reach so far. 431 U. S., at 688, n. 5, 694, n. 17.

Precedent aside, however, respondent would have us announce, as the Court of Appeals did, a fundamental right to engage in homosexual sodomy. This we are quite unwilling to do. It is true that despite the language of the Due Process Clauses of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments, which appears to focus only on the processes by which life, liberty, or property is taken, the cases are legion in which those Clauses have been interpreted to have substantive content, subsuming rights that to a great extent are immune from federal or state regulation or proscription. Among such cases are those recognizing rights that have little or no textual support in the constitutional language. Meyer, Prince, and Pierce fall in this category, as do the privacy cases from Griswold to Carey.

Striving to assure itself and the public that announcing rights not readily identifiable in the Constitution’s text involves much more than the imposition of the Justices’ own choice of values on the States and the Federal Government, the Court has sought to identify the nature of the rights qualifying for heightened judicial protection. In Palko v. Connecticut, 302 U. S. 319, 325, 326 (1937), it was said that this category includes those fundamental liberties that are “implicit in the concept of ordered liberty,” such that “neither *192liberty nor justice would exist if [they] were sacrificed.” A different description of fundamental liberties appeared in Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494, 503 (1977) (opinion of Powell, J.), where they are characterized as those liberties that are “deeply rooted in this Nation's history and tradition.” Id., at 503 (Powell, J.). See also Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S., at 506.

It is obvious to us that neither of these formulations would extend a fundamental right to homosexuals to engage in acts of consensual sodomy. Proscriptions against that conduct have ancient roots. See generally Survey on the Constitutional Right to Privacy in the Context of Homosexual Activity, 40 U. Miami L. Rev. 521, 525 (1986). Sodomy was a criminal offense at common law and was forbidden by the laws of the original 13 States when t-hey ratified the Bill of Rights.5 In 1868, when the Fourteenth Amendment was *193ratified, all but 5 of the 37 States in the Union had criminal sodomy laws.6 In fact, until 1961,7 all 50 States outlawed sodomy, and today, 24 States and the District of Columbia *194continue to provide criminal penalties for sodomy performed in private and between consenting adults. See Survey, U. Miami L. Rev., supra, at 524, n. 9. Against this background, to claim that a right to engage in such conduct is “deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition” or “implicit in the concept of ordered liberty” is, at best, facetious.

Nor are we inclined to take a more expansive view of our authority to discover new fundamental rights imbedded in the Due Process Clause. The Court is most vulnerable and comes nearest to illegitimacy when it deals with judge-made constitutional law having little or no cognizable roots in the language or design of the Constitution. That this is so was painfully demonstrated by the face-off between the Executive and the Court in the 1930’s, which resulted in the repudi*195ation of much of the substantive gloss that the Court had placed on the Due Process Clauses of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments. There should be, therefore, great resistance to expand the substantive reach of those Clauses, particularly if it requires redefining the category of rights deemed to be fundamental. Otherwise, the Judiciary necessarily takes to itself further authority to govern the country without express constitutional authority. The claimed right pressed on us today falls far short of overcoming this resistance.

Respondent, however, asserts that the result should be different where the homosexual conduct occurs in the privacy of the home. He relies on Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969), where the Court held that the First Amendment prevents conviction for possessing and reading obscene material in the privacy of one’s home: “If the First Amendment means anything, it means that a State has no business telling a man, sitting alone in his house, what books he may read or what films he may watch.” Id., at 565.

Stanley did protect conduct that would not have been protected outside the home, and it partially prevented the enforcement of state obscenity laws; but the decision was firmly grounded in the First Amendment. The right pressed upon us here has no similar support in the text of the Constitution, and it does not qualify for recognition under the prevailing principles for construing the Fourteenth Amendment. Its limits are also difficult to discern. Plainly enough, otherwise illegal conduct is not always immunized whenever it occurs in the home. Victimless crimes, such as the possession and use of illegal drugs, do not escape the law where they are committed at home. Stanley itself recognized that its holding offered no protection for the possession in the home of drugs, firearms, or stolen goods. Id., at 568, n. 11. And if respondent’s submission is limited to the voluntary sexual conduct between consenting adults, it would be difficult, except by fiat, to limit the claimed right to homosexual conduct *196while leaving exposed to prosecution adultery, incest, and other sexual crimes even though they are committed in the home. We are unwilling to start down that road.

Even if the conduct at issue here is not a fundamental right, respondent asserts that there must be a rational basis for the law and that there is none in this case other than the presumed belief of a majority of the electorate in Georgia that homosexual sodomy is immoral and unacceptable. This is said to be an inadequate rationale to support the law. 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. Even respondent makes no such claim, but insists that majority sentiments about the morality of homosexuality should be declared inadequate. We do not agree, and are unpersuaded that the sodomy laws of some 25 States should be invalidated on this basis.8

Accordingly, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is

Reversed.

Chief Justice Burger,

concurring.

I join the Court’s opinion, but I write separately to underscore my view that in constitutional terms there is no such thing as a fundamental right to commit homosexual sodomy.

As the Court notes, ante, at 192, the proscriptions against sodomy have very “ancient roots.” Decisions of individuals relating to homosexual conduct have been subject to state intervention throughout the history of Western civilization. Condemnation of those practices is firmly rooted in Judeao-Christian moral and ethical standards. Homosexual sodomy was a capital crime under Roman law. See Code Theod. 9.7.6; Code Just. 9.9.31. See also D. Bailey, Homosexuality *197and the Western Christian Tradition 70-81 (1975). During the English Reformation when powers of the ecclesiastical courts were transferred to the King’s Courts, the first English statute criminalizing sodomy was passed. 25 Hen. VIII, ch. 6. Blackstone described “the infamous crime against nature” as an offense of “deeper malignity” than rape, a heinous act “the very mention of which is a disgrace to human nature,” and “a crime not fit to be named.” 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *215. The common law of England, including its prohibition of sodomy, became the received law of Georgia and the other Colonies. In 1816 the Georgia Legislature passed the statute at issue here, and that statute has been continuously in force in one form or another since that time. To hold that the act of homosexual sodomy is somehow protected as a fundamental right would be to cast aside millennia of moral teaching.

This is essentially not a question of personal “preferences” but rather of the legislative authority of the State. I find nothing in the Constitution depriving a State of the power to enact the statute challenged here.

Justice Powell,

concurring.

I join the opinion of the Court. I agree with the Court that there is no fundamental right — i. e., no substantive right under the Due Process Clause — such as that claimed by respondent Hardwick, and found to exist by the Court of Appeals. This is not to suggest, however, that respondent may not be protected by the Eighth Amendment of the Constitution. The Georgia statute at issue in this case, Ga. Code Ann. § 16-6-2 (1984), authorizes a court to imprison a person for up to 20 years for a single private, consensual act of sodomy. In my view, a prison sentence for such conduct — certainly a sentence of long duration — would create a serious Eighth Amendment issue. Under the Georgia statute a single act of sodomy, even in the private setting of a home, is a *198felony comparable in terms of the possible sentence imposed to serious felonies such as aggravated battery, §16-5-24, first-degree arson, § 16-7-60, and robbery, § 16-8-40.1

In this case, however, respondent has not been tried, much less convicted and sentenced.2 Moreover, respondent has not raised the Eighth Amendment issue below. For these reasons this constitutional argument is not before us.

*199Justice Blackmun,

with whom Justice Brennan, Justice Marshall, and Justice Stevens join, dissenting.

This case is no more about “a fundamental right to engage in homosexual sodomy,” as the Court purports to declare, ante, at 191, than Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969), was about a fundamental right to watch obscene movies, or Katz v. United States, 389 U. S. 347 (1967), was about a fundamental right to place interstate bets from a telephone booth. Rather, this case is about “the most comprehensive of rights and the right most valued by civilized men,” namely, “the right to be let alone.” Olmstead v. United States, 277 U. S. 438, 478 (1928) (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

The statute at issue, Ga. Code Ann. § 16-6-2 (1984), denies individuals the right to decide for themselves whether to engage in particular forms of private, consensual sexual activity. The Court concludes that § 16-6-2 is valid essentially because “the laws of . . . many States . . . still make such conduct illegal and have done so for a very long time.” Ante, at 190. But the fact that the moral judgments expressed by statutes like §16-6-2 may be “‘natural and familiar . . . ought not to conclude our judgment upon the question whether statutes embodying them conflict with the Constitution of the United States.’” Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113, 117 (1973), quoting Lochner v. New York, 198 U. S. 45, 76 (1905) (Holmes, J., dissenting). Like Justice Holmes, I believe that “[i]t is revolting to have no better reason for a rule of law than that so it was laid down in the time of Henry IV. It is still more revolting if the grounds upon which it was laid down have vanished long since, and the rule simply persists from blind imitation of the past.” Holmes, The Path of the Law, 10 Harv. L. Rev. 457, 469 (1897). I believe we must analyze respondent Hardwick’s claim in the light of the values that underlie the constitutional right to privacy. If that right means anything, it means that, before Georgia can prosecute its citizens for making choices about the most inti*200mate aspects of their lives, it must do more than assert that the choice they have made is an “ ‘abominable crime not fit to be named among Christians.’” Herring v. State, 119 Ga. 709, 721, 46 S. E. 876, 882 (1904).

h-t

In its haste to reverse the Court of Appeals and hold that the Constitution does not “confe[r] a fundamental right upon homosexuals to engage in sodomy,” ante, at 190, the Court relegates the actual statute being challenged to a footnote and ignores the procedural posture of the case before it. A fair reading of the statute and of the complaint clearly reveals that the majority has distorted the question this case presents.

First, the Court’s almost obsessive focus on homosexual activity is particularly hard to justify in light of the broad language Georgia has used. Unlike the Court, the Georgia Legislature has not proceeded on the assumption that homosexuals are so different from other citizens that their lives may be controlled in a way that would not be tolerated if it limited the choices of those other citizens. Cf. ante, at 188, n. 2. Rather, Georgia has provided that "[a] person commits the offense of sodomy when he performs or submits to any sexual act involving the sex organs of one person and the mouth or anus of another.” Ga. Code Ann. §16-6-2(a) (1984). The sex or status of the persons who engage in the act is irrelevant as a matter of state law. In fact, to the extent I can discern a legislative purpose for Georgia’s 1968 enactment of §16-6-2, that purpose seems to have been to broaden the coverage of the law to reach heterosexual as well as homosexual activity.1 I therefore see no basis for the *201Court’s decision to treat this case as an “as applied” challenge to § 16-6-2, see ante, at 188, n. 2, or for Georgia’s attempt, both in its brief and at oral argument, to defend § 16-6-2 solely on the grounds that it prohibits homosexual activity. Michael Hardwick’s standing may rest in significant part on Georgia’s apparent willingness to enforce against homosexuals a law it seems not to have any desire to enforce against heterosexuals. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 4-5; cf. 760 F. 2d 1202, 1205-1206 (CA111985). But his claim that § 16-6-2 involves an unconstitutional intrusion into his privacy and his right of intimate association does not depend in any way on his sexual orientation.

Second, I disagree with the Court’s refusal to consider whether § 16-6-2 runs afoul of the Eighth or Ninth Amendments or the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Ante, at 196, n. 8. Respondent’s complaint expressly invoked the Ninth Amendment, see App. 6, and he relied heavily before this Court on Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479, 484 (1965), which identifies that Amendment as one of the specific constitutional provisions giving “life and substance” to our understanding of privacy. See Brief for Respondent Hardwick 10-12; Tr. of Oral Arg. 33. More importantly, the procedural posture of the case requires that we affirm the Court of Appeals’ judgment if there is any ground on which respondent may be entitled to relief. This case is before us on petitioner’s motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim, Fed. Rule Civ. Proc. 12(b)(6). See App. 17. It is a well-settled principle of law that “a complaint should not be dismissed merely because a plaintiff’s allegations do not support the particular legal theory he advances, for the court is under a duty to examine the complaint to determine if the allegations provide for relief on any possible theory.” *202Bramlet v. Wilson, 495 F. 2d 714, 716 (CA8 1974); see Parr v. Great Lakes Express Co., 484 F. 2d 767, 773 (CA7 1973); Due v. Tallahassee Theatres, Inc., 333 F. 2d 630, 631 (CA5 1964); United States v. Howell, 318 F. 2d 162, 166 (CA9 1963); 5 C. Wright & A. Miller, Federal Practice and Procedure § 1357, pp. 601-602 (1969); see also Conley v. Gibson, 355 U. S. 41, 45-46 (1957). Thus, even if respondent did not advance claims based on the Eighth or Ninth Amendments, or on the Equal Protection Clause, his complaint should not be dismissed if any of those provisions could entitle him to relief. I need not reach either the Eighth Amendment or the Equal Protection Clause issues because I believe that Hardwick has stated a cognizable claim that § 16-6-2 interferes with constitutionally protected interests in privacy and freedom of intimate association. But neither the Eighth Amendment nor the Equal Protection Clause is so clearly irrelevant that a claim resting on either provision should be peremptorily dismissed.2 The Court’s cramped reading of the *203issue before it makes for a short opinion, but it does little to make for a persuasive one.

II

“Our cases long have recognized that the Constitution embodies a promise that a certain private sphere of individual liberty will be kept largely beyond the reach of government.” Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians & Gynecologists, 476 U. S. 747, 772 (1986). In construing the right to privacy, the Court has proceeded along two somewhat dis*204tinct, albeit complementary, lines. First, it has recognized a privacy interest with reference to certain decisions that are properly for the individual to make. E. g., Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973); Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 U. S. 510 (1925). Second, it has recognized a privacy interest with reference to certain places without regard for the particular activities in which the individuals who occupy them are engaged. E. g., United States v. Karo, 468 U. S. 705 (1984); Payton v. New York, 445 U. S. 573 (1980); Rios v. United States, 364 U. S. 253 (1960). The case before us implicates both the decisional and the spatial aspects of the right to privacy.

A

The Court concludes today that none of our prior cases dealing with various decisions that individuals are entitled to make free of governmental interference “bears any resemblance to the claimed constitutional right of homosexuals to engage in acts of sodomy that is asserted in this case.” Ante, at 190-191. While it is true that these cases may be characterized by their connection to protection of the family, see Roberts v. United States Jaycees, 468 U. S. 609, 619 (1984), the Court’s conclusion that they extend no further than this boundary ignores the warning in Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494, 501 (1977) (plurality opinion), against “clos[ing] our eyes to the basic reasons why certain rights associated with the family have been accorded shelter under the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause.” We protect those rights not because they contribute, in some direct and material way, to the general public welfare, but because they form so central a part of an individual’s life. “[T]he concept of privacy embodies the ‘moral fact that a person belongs to himself and not others nor to society as a whole.’ ” Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians & Gynecologists, 476 U. S., at 777, n. 5 (Stevens, J., concurring), quoting Fried, Correspondence, 6 Phil. & Pub. Affairs 288-289 (1977). And so we protect the decision whether to *205marry precisely because marriage “is an association that promotes a way of life, not causes; a harmony in living, not political faiths; a bilateral loyalty, not commercial or social projects.” Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S., at 486. We protect the decision whether to have a child because parenthood alters so dramatically an individual’s self-definition, not because of demographic considerations or the Bible’s command to be fruitful and multiply. Cf. Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians & Gynecologists, supra, at 777, n. 6 (Stevens, J., concurring). And we protect the family because it contributes so powerfully to the happiness of individuals, not because of a preference for stereotypical households. Cf. Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S., at 500-506 (plurality opinion). The Court recognized in Roberts, 468 U. S., at 619, that the “ability independently to define one’s identity that is central to any concept of liberty” cannot truly be exercised in a vacuum; we all depend on the “emotional enrichment from close ties with others.” Ibid.

Only the most willful blindness could obscure the fact that sexual intimacy is “a sensitive, key relationship of human existence, central to family life, community welfare, and the development of human personality,” Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49, 63 (1973); see also Carey v. Population Services International, 431 U. S. 678, 685 (1977). The fact that individuals define themselves in a significant way through their intimate sexual relationships with others suggests, in a Nation as diverse as ours, that there may be many “right” ways of conducting those relationships, and that much of the richness of a relationship will come from the freedom an individual has to choose the form and nature of these intensely personal bonds. See Karst, The Freedom of Intimate Association, 89 Yale L. J. 624, 637 (1980); cf. Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438, 453 (1972); Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S., at 153.

In a variety of circumstances we have recognized that a necessary corollary of giving individuals freedom to choose *206how to conduct their lives is acceptance of the fact that different individuals will make different choices. For example, in holding that the clearly important state interest in public education should give way to a competing claim by the Amish to the effect that extended formal schooling threatened their way of life, the Court declared: “There can be no assumption that today’s majority is ‘right’ and the Amish and others like them are ‘wrong.’ A way of life that is odd or even erratic but interferes with no rights or interests of others is not to be condemned because it is different.” Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U. S. 205, 223-224 (1972). The Court claims that its decision today merely refuses to recognize a fundamental right to engage in homosexual sodomy; what the Court really has refused to recognize is the fundamental interest all individuals have in controlling the nature of their intimate associations with others.

B

The behavior for which Hardwick faces prosecution occurred in his own home, a place to which the Fourth Amendment attaches special significance. The Court’s treatment of this aspect of the case is symptomatic of its overall refusal to consider the broad principles that have informed our treatment of privacy in specific cases. Just as the right to privacy is more than the mere aggregation of a number of entitlements to engage in specific behavior, so too, protecting the physical integrity of the home is more than merely a means of protecting specific activities that often take place there. Even when our understanding of the contours of the right to privacy depends on “reference to a ‘place,’” Katz v. United States, 389 U. S., at 361 (Harlan, J., concurring), “the essence of a Fourth Amendment violation is ‘not the breaking of [a person’s] doors, and the rummaging of his drawers,’ but rather is ‘the invasion of his indefeasible right of personal security, personal liberty and private property.’” California v. Ciraolo, 476 U. S. 207, 226 (1986) (Powell, J., dis*207senting), quoting Boyd v. United States, 116 U. S. 616, 630 (1886).

The Court’s interpretation of the pivotal ease of Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969), is entirely unconvincing. Stanley held that Georgia’s undoubted power to punish the public distribution of constitutionally unprotected, obscene material did not permit the State to punish the private possession of such material. According to the majority here, Stanley relied entirely on the First Amendment, and thus, it is claimed, sheds no light on cases not involving printed materials. Ante, at 195. But that is not what Stanley said. Rather, the Stanley Court anchored its holding in the Fourth Amendment’s special protection for the individual in his home:

“‘The makers of our Constitution undertook to secure conditions favorable to the pursuit of happiness. They recognized the significance of man’s spiritual nature, of his feelings and of his intellect. They knew that only a part of the pain, pleasure and satisfactions of life are to be found in material things. They sought to protect Americans in their beliefs, their thoughts, their emotions and their sensations.’

“These are the rights that appellant is asserting in the case before us. He is asserting the right to read or observe what he pleases — the right to satisfy his intellectual and emotional needs in the privacy of his own home.” 394 U. S., at 564-565, quoting Olmstead v. United States, 277 U. S., at 478 (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

The central place that Stanley gives Justice Brandéis’ dissent in Olmstead, a case raising no First Amendment claim, shows that Stanley rested as much on the Court’s understanding of the Fourth Amendment as it did on the First. Indeed, in Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49 (1973), the Court suggested that reliance on the Fourth *208Amendment not only supported the Court’s outcome in Stanley but actually was necessary to it: “If obscene material unprotected by the First Amendment in itself carried with it a ‘penumbra’ of constitutionally protected privacy, this Court would not have found it necessary to decide Stanley on the narrow basis of the ‘privacy of the home,’ which was hardly more than a reaffirmation that ‘a man’s home is his castle.’” 413 U. S., at 66. “The right of the people to be secure in their . . . houses,” expressly guaranteed by the Fourth Amendment, is perhaps the most “textual” of the various constitutional provisions that inform our understanding of the right to privacy, and thus I cannot agree with the Court’s statement that “[tjhe right pressed upon us here has no . . . support in the text of the Constitution,” ante, at 195. Indeed, the right of an individual to conduct intimate relationships in the intimacy of his or her own home seems to me to be the heart of the Constitution’s protection of privacy.

HH HH HH

The Court s failure to comprehend the magnitude of the liberty interests at stake in this case leads it to slight the question whether petitioner, on behalf of the State, has justified Georgia’s infringement on these interests. I believe that neither of the two general justifications for § 16-6-2 that petitioner has advanced warrants dismissing respondent’s challenge for failure to state a claim.

First, petitioner asserts that the acts made criminal by the statute may have serious adverse consequences for “the general public health and welfare,” such as spreading communicable diseases or fostering other criminal activity. Brief for Petitioner 37. Inasmuch as this case was dismissed by the District Court on the pleadings, it is not surprising that the record before us is barren of any evidence to support petitioner’s claim.3 In light of the state of the record, I see *209no justification for the Court’s attempt to equate the private, consensual sexual activity at issue here with the “possession in the home of drugs, firearms, or stolen goods,” ante, at 195, to which Stanley refused to extend its protection. 394 U. S., at 568, n. 11. None of the behavior so mentioned in Stanley can properly be viewed as “[v]ictimless,” ante, at 195: drugs and weapons are inherently dangerous, see, e. g., McLaughlin v. United States, 476 U. S. 16 (1986), and for property to be “stolen,” someone must have been wrongfully deprived of it. Nothing in the record before the Court provides any justification for finding the activity forbidden by § 16-6-2 to be physically dangerous, either to the persons engaged in it or to others.4

*210The core of petitioner’s defense of § 16-6-2, however, is that respondent and others who engage in the conduct prohibited by § 16-6-2 interfere with Georgia’s exercise of the “‘right of the Nation and of the States to maintain a decent society,”’ Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S., at 59-60, quoting Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 199 (1964) (Warren, C. J., dissenting). Essentially, petitioner argues, and the Court agrees, that the fact that the acts described in § 16-6-2 “for hundreds of years, if not thousands, have been uniformly condemned as immoral” is a sufficient reason to permit a State to ban them today. Brief for Petitioner 19; see ante, at 190, 192-194, 196.

I cannot agree that either the length of time a majority has held its convictions or the passions with which it defends them can withdraw legislation from this Court’s scrutiny. See, e. g., Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973); Loving v. Virginia, 388 U. S. 1 (1967); Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483 (1954).5 As Justice Jackson wrote so eloquently *211for the Court in West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 641-642 (1943), “we apply the limitations of the Constitution with no fear that freedom to be intellectually and spiritually diverse or even contrary will disintegrate the social organization. . . . [Fjreedom to differ is not limited to things that do not matter much. That would be a mere shadow of freedom. The test of its substance is the right to differ as to things that touch the heart of the existing order.” See also Karst, 89 Yale L. J., at 627. It is precisely because the issue raised by this case touches the heart of what makes individuals what they are that we should be especially sensitive to the rights of those whose choices upset the majority.

The assertion that “traditional Judeo-Christian values proscribe” the conduct involved, Brief for Petitioner 20, cannot provide an adequate justification for § 16-6-2. That certain, but by no means all, religious groups condemn the behavior at issue gives the State no license to impose their judgments on the entire citizenry. The legitimacy of secular legislation depends instead on whether the State can advance some justification for its law beyond its conformity to religious doctrine. See, e. g., McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420, 429-453 (1961); Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39 (1980). Thus, far from buttressing his case, petitioner’s invocation of Leviticus, Romans, St. Thomas Aquinas, and sodomy’s heretical status during the Middle Ages undermines his suggestion that § 16-6-2 represents a legitimate use of secular coercive power.6 A State can no more punish private behavior be*212cause of religious intolerance than it can punish such behavior because of racial animus. “The Constitution cannot control such prejudices, but neither can it tolerate them. Private biases may be outside the reach of the law, but the law cannot, directly or indirectly, give them effect.” Palmore v. Sidoti, 466 U. S. 429, 433 (1984). No matter how uncomfortable a certain group may make the majority of this Court, we have held that “[m]ere public intolerance or animosity cannot constitutionally justify the deprivation of a person’s physical liberty.” O’Connor v. Donaldson, 422 U. S. 563, 575 (1975). See also Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, Inc., 473 U. S. 432 (1985); United States Dept. of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S. 528, 534 (1973).

Nor can § 16-6-2 be justified as a “morally neutral” exercise of Georgia’s power to “protect the public environment,” Paris Adult Theatre I, 413 U. S., at 68-69. Certainly, some private behavior can affect the fabric of society as a whole. Reasonable people may differ about whether particular sexual acts are moral or immoral, but “we have ample evidence for believing that people will not abandon morality, will not think any better of murder, cruelty and dishonesty, merely because some private sexual practice which they abominate is not punished by the law.” H. L. A. Hart, Immorality and Treason, reprinted in The Law as Literature 220, 225 (L. Blom-Cooper ed. 1961). Petitioner and the Court fail to see the difference between laws that protect public sensibilities and those that enforce private morality. Statutes banning *213public sexual activity are entirely consistent with protecting the individual’s liberty interest in decisions concerning sexual relations: the same recognition that those decisions are intensely private which justifies protecting them from governmental interference can justify protecting individuals from unwilling exposure to the sexual activities of others. But the mere fact that intimate behavior may be punished when it takes place in public cannot dictate how States can regulate intimate behavior that occurs in intimate places. See Paris Adult Theatre I, 413 U. S., at 66, n. 13 (“marital intercourse on a street corner or a theater stage” can be forbidden despite the constitutional protection identified in Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965)).7

This case involves no real interference with the rights of others, for the mere knowledge that other individuals do not adhere to one’s value system cannot be a legally cognizable interest, cf. Diamond v. Charles, 476 U. S. 54, 65-66 (1986), let alone an interest that can justify invading the houses, hearts, and minds of citizens who choose to live their lives differently.

IV

It took but three years for the Court to see the error in its analysis in Minersville School District v. Gobitis, 310 U. S. *214586 (1940), and to recognize that the threat to national cohesion posed by a refusal to salute the flag was vastly outweighed by the threat to those same values posed by compelling such a salute. See West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943). I can only hope that here, too, the Court soon will reconsider its analysis and conclude that depriving individuals of the right to choose for themselves how to conduct their intimate relationships poses a far greater threat to the values most deeply rooted in our Nation’s history than tolerance of nonconformity could ever do. Because I think the Court today betrays those values, I dissent.

Justice Stevens,

with whom Justice Brennan and Justice Marshall join, dissenting.

Like the statute that is challenged in this case,1 the rationale of the Court’s opinion applies equally to the prohibited conduct regardless of whether the parties who engage in it are married or unmarried, or are of the same or different sexes.2 Sodomy was condemned as an odious and sinful type of behavior during the formative period of the common law.3 *215That condemnation was equally damning for heterosexual and homosexual sodomy.4 Moreover, it provided no special exemption for married couples.5 The license to cohabit and to produce legitimate offspring simply did not include any permission to engage in sexual conduct that was considered a “crime against nature.”

The history of the Georgia statute before us clearly reveals this traditional prohibition of heterosexual, as well as homosexual, sodomy.6 Indeed, at one point in the 20th century, Georgia’s law was construed to permit certain sexual conduct between homosexual women even though such conduct was prohibited between heterosexuals.7 The history of the statutes cited by the majority as proof for the proposition that sodomy is not constitutionally protected, ante, at 192-194, *216and nn. 5 and 6, similarly reveals a prohibition on heterosexual, as well as homosexual, sodomy.8

Because the Georgia statute expresses the traditional view that sodomy is an immoral kind of conduct regardless of the identity of the persons who engage in it, I believe that a proper analysis of its constitutionality requires consideration of two questions: First, may a State totally prohibit the described conduct by means of a neutral law applying without exception to all persons subject to its jurisdiction? If not, may the State save the statute by announcing that it will only enforce the law against homosexuals? The two questions merit separate discussion.

I

Our prior cases make two propositions abundantly clear. First, the fact that the governing majority in a State has traditionally viewed a particular practice as immoral is not a sufficient reason for upholding a law prohibiting the practice; neither history nor tradition could save a law prohibiting miscegenation from constitutional attack.9 Second, individual decisions by married persons, concerning the intimacies of their physical relationship, even when not intended to produce offspring, are a form of “liberty” protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965). Moreover, this protection extends to intimate choices by unmarried as well as married persons. Carey v. Population Services International, 431 U. S. 678 (1977); Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438 (1972).

*217In consideration of claims of this kind, the Court has emphasized the individual interest in privacy, but its decisions have actually been animated by an even more fundamental concern. As I wrote some years ago:

“These cases do not deal with the individual’s interest in protection from unwarranted public attention, comment, or exploitation. They deal, rather, with the individual’s right to make certain unusually important decisions that will affect his own, or his family’s, destiny. The Court has referred to such decisions as implicating ‘basic values,’ as being ‘fundamental,’ and as being dignified by history and tradition. The character of the Court’s language in these cases brings to mind the origins of the American heritage of freedom — the abiding interest in individual liberty that makes certain state intrusions on the citizen’s right to decide how he will live his own life intolerable. Guided by history, our tradition of respect for the dignity of individual choice in matters of conscience and the restraints implicit in the federal system, federal judges have accepted the responsibility for recognition and protection of these rights in appropriate cases.” Fitzgerald v. Porter Memorial Hospital, 523 F. 2d 716, 719-720 (CA7 1975) (footnotes omitted), cert, denied, 425 U. S. 916 (1976).

Society has every right to encourage its individual members to follow particular traditions in expressing affection for one another and in gratifying their personal desires. It, of course, may prohibit an individual from imposing his will on another to satisfy his own selfish interests. It also may prevent an individual from interfering with, or violating, a legally sanctioned and protected relationship, such as marriage. And it may explain the relative advantages and disadvantages of different forms of intimate expression. But when individual married couples are isolated from observation by others, the way in which they voluntarily choose to conduct their intimate relations is a matter for them — not the *218State — to decide.10 The essential “liberty” that animated the development of the law in cases like Griswold, Eisenstadt, and Carey surely embraces the right to engage in nonrepro-ductive, sexual conduct that others may consider offensive or immoral.

Paradoxical as it may seem, our prior cases thus establish that a State may not prohibit sodomy within “the sacred precincts of marital bedrooms,” Griswold, 381 U. S., at 485, or, indeed, between unmarried heterosexual adults. Eisen-stadt, 405 U. S., at 453. In all events, it is perfectly clear that the State of Georgia may not totally prohibit the conduct proscribed by § 16-6-2 of the Georgia Criminal Code.

II

If the Georgia statute cannot be enforced as it is written— if the conduct it seeks to prohibit is a protected form of liberty for the vast majority of Georgia’s citizens — the State must assume the burden of justifying a selective application of its law. Either the persons to whom Georgia seeks to apply its statute do not have the same interest in “liberty” that others have, or there must be a reason why the State may be permitted to apply a generally applicable law to certain persons that it does not apply to others.

The first possibility is plainly unacceptable. Although the meaning of the principle that “all men are created equal” is not always clear, it surely must mean that every free citizen has the same interest in “liberty” that the members of the majority share. From the standpoint of the individual, the homosexual and the heterosexual have the same interest in deciding how he will live his own life, and, more narrowly, how he will conduct himself in his personal and voluntary *219associations with his companions. State intrusion into the private conduct of either is equally burdensome.

The second possibility is similarly unacceptable. A policy of selective application must be supported by a neutral and legitimate interest — something more substantial than a habitual dislike for, or ignorance about, the disfavored group. Neither the State nor the Court has identified any such interest in this case. The Court has posited as a justification for the Georgia statute “the presumed belief of a majority of the electorate in Georgia that homosexual sodomy is immoral and unacceptable.” Ante, at 196. But the Georgia electorate has expressed no such belief — instead, its representatives enacted a law that presumably reflects the belief that all sodomy is immoral and unacceptable. Unless the Court is prepared to conclude that such a law is constitutional, it may not rely on the work product of the Georgia Legislature to support its holding. For the Georgia statute does not single out homosexuals as a separate class meriting special disfavored treatment.

Nor, indeed, does the Georgia prosecutor even believe that all homosexuals who violate this statute should be punished. This conclusion is evident from the fact that the respondent in this very case has formally acknowledged in his complaint and in court that he has engaged, and intends to continue to engage, in the prohibited conduct, yet the State has elected not to process criminal charges against him. As Justice Powell points out, moreover, Georgia’s prohibition on private, consensual sodomy has not been enforced for decades.11 The record of nonenforcement, in this case and in the last several decades, belies the Attorney General’s representa*220tions about the importance of the State’s selective application of its generally applicable law.12

Both the Georgia statute and the Georgia prosecutor thus completely fail to provide the Court with any support for the conclusion that homosexual sodomy, simpliciter, is considered unacceptable conduct in that State, and that the burden of justifying a selective application of the generally applicable law has been met.

l — l J — t

The Court orders the dismissal of respondent s complaint even though the State’s statute prohibits all sodomy; even though that prohibition is concededly unconstitutional with respect to heterosexuals; and even though the State’s post hoc explanations for selective application are belied by the State’s own actions. At the very least, I think it clear at this early stage of the litigation that respondent has alleged a constitutional claim sufficient to withstand a motion to dismiss.13

I respectfully dissent.

*562Justice Kennedy

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Liberty protects the person from unwarranted government intrusions into a dwelling or other private places. In our tradition the State is not omnipresent in the home. And there are other spheres of our lives and existence, outside the home, where the State should not be a dominant presence. Freedom extends beyond spatial bounds. Liberty presumes an autonomy of self that includes freedom of thought, belief, expression, and certain intimate conduct. The instant case involves liberty of the person both in its spatial and in its more transcendent dimensions.

I

The question before the Court is the validity of a Texas statute making it a crime for two persons of the same sex to engage in certain intimate sexual conduct.

In Houston, Texas, officers of the Harris County Police Department were dispatched to a private residence in response to a reported weapons disturbance. They entered an apartment where one of the petitioners, John Geddes Lawrence, *563resided. The right of the police to enter does not seem to have been questioned. The officers observed Lawrence and another man, Tyron Garner, engaging in a sexual act. The two petitioners were arrested, held in custody overnight, and charged and convicted before a Justice of the Peace.

The complaints described their crime as “deviate sexual intercourse, namely anal sex, with a member of the same sex (man).” App. to Pet. for Cert. 127a, 139a. The applicable state law is Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 21.06(a) (2003). It provides: “A person commits an offense if he engages in deviate sexual intercourse with another individual of the same sex.” The statute defines “[d]eviate sexual intercourse” as follows:

“(A) any contact between any part of the genitals of one person and the mouth or anus of another person; or

“(B) the penetration of the genitals or the anus of another person with an object.” §21.01(1).

The petitioners exercised their right to a trial de novo in Harris County Criminal Court. They challenged the statute as a violation of the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment and of a like provision of the Texas Constitution. Tex. Const., Art. 1, § 3a. Those contentions were rejected. The petitioners, having entered a plea of nolo contendere, were each fined $200 and assessed court costs of $141.25. App. to Pet. for Cert. 107a-110a.

The Court of Appeals for the Texas Fourteenth District considered the petitioners’ federal constitutional arguments under both the Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment. After hearing the case en banc the court, in a divided opinion, rejected the constitutional arguments and affirmed the convictions. 41 S. W. 3d 349 (2001). The majority opinion indicates that the Court of Appeals considered our decision in Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186 (1986), to be controlling on the federal due process aspect of the case. Bowers then being authoritative, this was proper.

*564We granted certiorari, 537 U. S. 1044 (2002), to consider three questions:

1. Whether petitioners’ criminal convictions under the Texas “Homosexual Conduct” law — which criminalizes sexual intimacy by same-sex couples, but not identical behavior by different-sex couples — violate the Fourteenth Amendment guarantee of equal protection of the laws.

2. Whether petitioners’ criminal convictions for adult consensual sexual intimacy in the home violate their vital interests in liberty and privacy protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

3. Whether Bowers v. Hardwick, supra, should be overruled? See Pet. for Cert. i.

The petitioners were adults at the time of the alleged offense. Their conduct was in private and consensual.

II

We conclude the case should be resolved by determining whether the petitioners were free as adults to engage in the private conduct in the exercise of their liberty under the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution. For this inquiry we deem it necessary to reconsider the Court’s holding in Bowers.

There are broad statements of the substantive reach of liberty under the Due Process Clause in earlier cases, including Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 U. S. 510 (1925), and Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390 (1923); but the most pertinent beginning point is our decision in Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965).

In Griswold the Court invalidated a state law prohibiting the use of drugs or devices of contraception and counseling or aiding and abetting the use of contraceptives. The Court described the protected interest as a right to privacy and *565placed emphasis on the marriage relation and the protected space of the marital bedroom. Id., at 485.

After Griswold it was established that the right to make certain decisions regarding sexual conduct extends beyond the marital relationship. In Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438 (1972), the Court invalidated a law prohibiting the distribution of contraceptives to unmarried persons. The case was decided under the Equal Protection Clause, id., at 454; but with respect to unmarried persons, the Court went on to state the fundamental proposition that the law impaired the exercise of their personal rights, ibid. It quoted from the statement of the Court of Appeals finding the law to be in conflict with fundamental human rights, and it followed with this statement of its own:

“It is true that in Griswold the right of privacy in question inhered in the marital relationship. ... If the right of privacy means anything, it is the right of the individual, married or single, to be free from unwarranted governmental intrusion into matters so fundamentally affecting a person as the decision whether to bear or beget a child.” Id., at 453.

The opinions in Griswold and Eisenstadt were part of the background for the decision in Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973). As is well known, the case involved a challenge to the Texas law prohibiting abortions, but the laws of other States were affected as well. Although the Court held the woman’s rights were not absolute, her right to elect an abortion did have real and substantial protection as an exercise of her liberty under the Due Process Clause. The Court cited cases that protect spatial freedom and cases that go well beyond it. Roe recognized the right of a woman to make certain fundamental decisions affecting her destiny and confirmed once more that the protection of liberty under the Due Process Clause has a substantive dimension of fundamental significance in defining the rights of the person.

*566In Carey v. Population Services Int’l, 431 U. S. 678 (1977), the Court confronted a New York law forbidding sale or distribution of contraceptive devices to persons under 16 years of age. Although there was no single opinion for the Court, the law was invalidated. Both Eisenstadt and Carey, as well as the holding and rationale in Roe, confirmed that the reasoning of Griswold could not be confined to the protection of rights of married adults. This was the state of the law with respect to some of the most relevant cases when the Court considered Bowers v. Hardwick.

The facts in Bowers had some similarities to the instant case. A police officer, whose right to enter seems not to have been in question, observed Hardwick, in his own bedroom, engaging in intimate sexual conduct with another adult male. The conduct was in violation of a Georgia statute making it a criminal offense to engage in sodomy. One difference between the two cases is that the Georgia statute prohibited the conduct whether or not the participants were of the same sex, while the Texas statute, as we have seen, applies only to participants of the same sex. Hardwick was not prosecuted, but he brought an action in federal court to declare the state statute invalid. He alleged he was a practicing homosexual and that the criminal prohibition violated rights guaranteed to him by the Constitution. The Court, in an opinion by Justice White, sustained the Georgia law. Chief Justice Burger and Justice Powell joined the opinion of the Court and filed separate, concurring opinions. Four Justices dissented. 478 U. S., at 199 (opinion of Black-mun, J., joined by Brennan, Marshall, and Stevens, JJ.); id., at 214 (opinion of Stevens, J., joined by Brennan and Marshall, JJ.).

The Court began its substantive discussion in Bowers as follows: “The issue presented is whether the Federal Constitution confers a fundamental right upon homosexuals to engage in sodomy and hence invalidates the laws of the many States that still make such conduct illegal and have done so *567for a very long time.” Id., at 190. That statement, we now conclude, discloses the Court’s own failure to appreciate the extent of the liberty at stake. To say that the issue in Bowers was simply the right to engage in certain sexual conduct demeans the claim the individual put forward, just as it would demean a married couple were it to be said marriage is simply about the right to have sexual intercourse. The laws involved in Bowers and here are, to be sure, statutes that purport to do no more than prohibit a particular sexual act. Their penalties and purposes, though, have more far-reaching consequences, touching upon the most private human conduct, sexual behavior, and in the most private of places, the home. The statutes do seek to control a personal relationship that, whether or riot entitled to formal recognition in the law, is within the liberty of persons to choose without being punished as criminals.

This, as a general rule, should counsel against attempts by the State, or a court, to define the meaning of the relationship or to set its boundaries absent injury to a person or abuse of an institution the law protects. It suffices for us to acknowledge that adults may choose to enter upon this relationship in the confines of their homes and their own private lives and still retain their dignity as free persons. When sexuality finds overt expression in intimate conduct with another person, the conduct can be but one element in a personal bond that is more enduring. The liberty protected by the Constitution allows homosexual persons the right to make this choice.

Having misapprehended the claim of liberty there presented to it, and thus stating the claim to be whether there is a fundamental right to engage in consensual sodomy, the Bowers Court said: “Proscriptions against that conduct have ancient roots.” Id., at 192. In academic writings, and in many of the scholarly amicus briefs filed to assist the Court in this case, there are fundamental criticisms of the historical premises relied upon by the majority and concurring opin*568ions in Bowers. Brief for Cato Institute as Amicus Curiae 16-17; Brief for American Civil Liberties Union et al. as Amici Curiae 15-21; Brief for Professors of History et al. as Amici Curiae 3-10. We need not enter this debate in the attempt to reach a definitive historical judgment, but the following considerations counsel against adopting the definitive conclusions upon which Bowers placed such reliance.

At the outset it should be noted that there is no longstanding history in this country of laws directed at homosexual conduct as a distinct matter. Beginning in colonial times there were prohibitions of sodomy derived from the English criminal laws passed in the first instance by the Reformation Parliament of 1533. The English prohibition was understood to include relations between men and women as well as relations between men and men. See, e. g., King v. Wiseman, 92 Eng. Rep. 774, 775 (K. B. 1718) (interpreting “mankind” in Act of 1533 as including women and girls). Nineteenth-century commentators similarly read American sodomy, buggery, and crime-against-nature statutes as criminalizing certain relations between men and women and between men and men. See, e. g., 2 J. Bishop, Criminal Law § 1028 (1858); 2 J. Chitty, Criminal Law 47-50 (5th Am. ed. 1847); R. Desty, A Compendium of American Criminal Law 143 (1882); J. May, The Law of Crimes §203 (2d ed. 1893). The absence of legal prohibitions focusing on homosexual conduct may be explained in part by noting that according to some scholars the concept of the homosexual as a distinct category of person did not emerge until the late 19th century. See, e. g., J. Katz, The Invention of Heterosexuality 10 (1995); J. D’Emilio & E. Freedman, Intimate Matters: A History of Sexuality in America 121 (2d ed. 1997) (“The modern terms homosexuality and heterosexuality do not apply to an era that had not yet articulated these distinctions”). Thus early American sodomy laws were not directed at homosexuals as such but instead sought to prohibit nonproereative sexual activity more generally. This does not suggest approval of *569homosexual conduct. It does tend to show that this particular form of conduct was not thought of as a separate category from like conduct between heterosexual persons.

Laws prohibiting sodomy do not seem to have been enforced against consenting adults acting in private. A substantial number of sodomy prosecutions and convictions for which there are surviving records were for predatory acts against those who could not or did not consent, as in the case of a minor or the victim of an assault. As to these, one purpose for the prohibitions was to ensure there would be no lack of coverage if a predator committed a sexual assault that did not constitute rape as defined by the criminal law. Thus the model sodomy indictments presented in a 19th-century treatise, see 2 Chitty, supra, at 49, addressed the predatory acts of an adult man against a minor girl or minor boy. Instead of targeting relations between consenting adults in private, 19th-century sodomy prosecutions typically involved relations between men and minor girls or minor boys, relations between- adults involving force, relations between adults implicating disparity in status, or relations between men and animals.

To the extent that there were any prosecutions for the acts in question, 19th-century evidence rules imposed a burden that would make a conviction more difficult to obtain even taking into account the problems always inherent in prosecuting consensual acts committed in private. Under then-prevailing standards, a man could not be convicted of sodomy based upon testimony of a consenting partner, because the partner was considered an accomplice. A partner’s testimony, however, was admissible if he or she had not consented to the act or was a minor, and therefore incapable of consent. See, e. g., F. Wharton, Criminal Law 443 (2d ed. 1852); 1 F. Wharton, Criminal Law 512 (8th ed. 1880). The rule may explain in part the infrequency of these prosecutions. In all events that infrequency makes it difficult to say that society approved of a rigorous and systematic *570punishment of the consensual acts committed in private and by adults. The longstanding criminal prohibition of homosexual sodomy upon which the Bowers decision placed such reliance is as consistent with a general condemnation of nonprocreative sex as it is with an established tradition of prosecuting acts because of their homosexual character.

The policy of punishing consenting adults for private acts was not much discussed in the early legal literature. We can infer that one reason for this was the very private nature of the conduct. Despite the absence of prosécutions, there may have been periods in which there was public criticism of homosexuals as such and an insistence that the criminal laws be enforced to discourage their practices. But far from possessing “ancient roots,” Bowers, 478 U. S., at 192, American laws targeting same-sex couples did not develop until the last third of the 20th century. The reported decisions concerning the prosecution of consensual, homosexual sodomy between adults for the years 1880-1995 are not always clear in the details, but a significant number involved conduct in a public place. See Brief for American Civil Liberties Union et al. as Amici Curiae 14-15, and n. 18.

It was not until the 1970’s that any State singled out same-sex relations for criminal prosecution, and only nine States have done so. See 1977 Ark. Gen. Acts no. 828; 1983 Kan. Sess. Laws p. 652; 1974 Ky. Acts p. 847; 1977 Mo. Laws p. 687; 1973 Mont. Laws p. 1339; 1977 Nev. Stats, p. 1632; 1989 Tenn. Pub. Acts ch. 591; 1973 Tex. Gen. Laws ch. 399; see also Post v. State, 715 P. 2d 1105 (Okla. Crim. App. 1986) (sodomy law invalidated as applied to different-sex couples). Post -Bowers even some of these States did not adhere to the policy of suppressing homosexual conduct. Over the course of the last decades, States with same-sex prohibitions have moved toward abolishing them. See, e. g., Jegley v. Picado, 349 Ark. 600, 80 S. W. 3d 332 (2002); Gryczan v. State, 283 Mont. 433, 942 P. 2d 112 (1997); Campbell v. Sundquist, 926 S. W. 2d 250 (Tenn. App. 1996); Commonwealth v. Wasson, *571842 S. W. 2d 487 (Ky. 1992); see also 1993 Nev. Stats, p. 518 (repealing Nev. Rev. Stat. §201.193).

In summary, the historical grounds relied upon in Bowers are more complex than the majority opinion and the concurring opinion by Chief Justice Burger indicate. Their historical premises are not without doubt and, at the very least, are overstated.

It must be acknowledged, of course, that the Court in Bowers was making the broader point that for centuries there have been powerful voices to condemn homosexual conduct as immoral. The condemnation has been shaped by religious beliefs, conceptions of right and acceptable behavior, and respect for the traditional family. For many persons these are not trivial concerns but profound and deep convictions accepted as ethical and moral principles to which they aspire and which thus determine the course of their lives. These considerations do not answer the question before us, however. The issue is whether the majority may use the power of the State to enforce these views on the whole society through operation of the criminal law. “Our obligation is to define the liberty of all, not to mandate our own moral code.” Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U. S. 833, 850 (1992).

Chief Justice Burger joined the opinion for the Court in Bowers and further explained his views as follows: “Decisions of individuals relating to homosexual conduct have been subject to state intervention throughout the history of Western civilization. Condemnation of those practices is firmly rooted in Judeao-Christian moral and ethical standards.” 478 U. S., at 196. As with Justice White’s assumptions about history, scholarship casts some doubt on the sweeping nature of the statement by Chief Justice Burger as it pertains to private homosexual conduct between consenting adults. See, e. g., Eskridge, Hardwick and Historiography, 1999 U. Ill. L. Rev. 631,656. In all events we think that our laws and traditions in the past half century are of *572most relevance here. These references show an emerging awareness that liberty gives substantial protection to adult persons in deciding how to conduct their private lives in matters pertaining to sex. “[H]istory and tradition are the starting point but not in all cases the ending point of the substantive due process inquiry.” County of Sacramento v. Lewis, 523 U. S. 833, 857 (1998) (Kennedy, J., concurring).

This emerging recognition should have been apparent when Bowers was decided. In 1955 the American Law Institute promulgated the Model Penal Code and made clear that it did not recommend or provide for “criminal penalties for consensual sexual relations conducted in private.” ALI, Model Penal Code §213.2, Comment 2, p. 372 (1980). It justified its decision on three grounds: (1) The prohibitions undermined respect for the law by penalizing conduct many people engaged in; (2) the statutes regulated private conduct not harmful to others; and (3) the laws were arbitrarily enforced and thus invited the danger of blackmail. ALI, Model Penal Code, Commentary 277-280 (Tent. Draft No. 4, 1955). In 1961 Illinois changed its laws to conform to the Model Penal Code. Other States soon followed. Brief for Cato Institute as Amicus Curiae 15-16.

In Bowers the Court referred to the fact that before 1961 all 50 States had outlawed sodomy, and that at the time of the Court’s decision 24 States and the District of Columbia had sodomy laws. 478 U. S., at 192-193. Justice Powell pointed out that these prohibitions often were being ignored, however. Georgia, for instance, had not sought to enforce its law for decades. Id., at 197-198, n. 2 (“The history of nonenforcement suggests the moribund character today of laws criminalizing this type of private, consensual conduct”).

The sweeping references by Chief Justice Burger to the history of Western civilization and to Judeo-Christian moral and ethical standards did not take account of other authorities pointing in an opposite direction. A committee advising the British Parliament recommended in 1957 repeal of laws *573punishing homosexual conduct. The Wolfenden Report: Report of the Committee on Homosexual Offenses and Prostitution (1963). Parliament enacted the substance of those recommendations 10 years later. Sexual Offences Act 1967, § 1.

Of even more importance, almost five years before Bowers was decided the European Court of Human Rights considered a case with parallels to Bowers and to today’s case. An adult male resident in Northern Ireland alleged he was a practicing homosexual who desired to engage in consensual homosexual conduct. The laws of Northern Ireland forbade him that right. He alleged that he had been questioned, his home had been searched, and he feared criminal prosecution. The court held that the laws proscribing the conduct were invalid under the European Convention on Human Rights. Dudgeon v. United Kingdom, 45 Eur. Ct. H. R. (1981) ¶ 52. Authoritative in all countries that are members of the Council of Europe (21 nations then, 45 nations now), the decision is at odds with the premise in Bowers that the claim put forward was insubstantial in our Western civilization.

In our own constitutional system the deficiencies in Bowers became even more apparent in the years following its announcement. The 25 States with laws prohibiting the relevant conduct referenced in the Bowers decision are reduced now to 13, of which 4 enforce their laws only against homosexual conduct. In those States where sodomy is still proscribed, whether for same-sex or heterosexual conduct, there is a pattern of nonenforcement with respect to consenting adults acting in private. The State of Texas admitted in 1994 that as of that date it had not prosecuted anyone under those circumstances. State v. Morales, 869 S. W. 2d 941, 943.

Two principal cases decided after Bowers cast its holding into even more doubt. In Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U. S. 833 (1992), the Court reaffirmed the substantive force of the liberty protected by the Due Process Clause. The Casey decision again confirmed *574that our laws and tradition afford constitutional protection to personal decisions relating to marriage, procreation, contraception, family relationships, child rearing, and education. Id., at 851. In explaining the respect the Constitution demands for the autonomy of the person in making these choices, we stated as follows:

“These matters, involving the most intimate and personal choices a person may make in a lifetime, choices central to personal dignity and autonomy, are central to the liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment. At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life. Beliefs about these matters could not define the attributes of personhood were they formed under compulsion of the State.” Ibid.

Persons in a homosexual relationship may seek autonomy for these purposes, just as heterosexual persons do. The decision in Bowers would deny them this right.

The second post-Bowers case of principal relevance is Romer v. Evans, 517 U. S. 620 (1996). There the Court struck down class-based legislation directed at homosexuals as a violation of the Equal Protection Clause. Romer invalidated an amendment to Colorado’s Constitution which named as a solitary class persons who were homosexuals, lesbians, or bisexual either by “orientation, conduct, practices or relationships,” id., at 624 (internal quotation marks omitted), and deprived them of protection under state antidiscrimination laws. We concluded that the provision was “born of animosity toward the class of persons affected” and further that it had no rational relation to a legitimate governmental purpose. Id., at 634.

As an alternative argument in this case, counsel for the petitioners and some amici contend that Romer provides the basis for declaring the Texas statute invalid under the Equal Protection Clause. That is a tenable argument, but we con-*575elude the instant case requires us to address whether Bowers itself has continuing validity. Were we to hold the statute invalid under the Equal Protection Clause some might question whether a prohibition would be valid if drawn differently, say, to prohibit the conduct both between same-sex and different-sex participants.

Equality of treatment and the due process right to demand respect for conduct protected by the substantive guarantee of liberty are linked in important respects, and a decision on the latter point advances both interests. If protected conduct is made criminal and the law which does so remains unexamined for its substantive validity, its stigma might remain even if it were not enforceable as drawn for equal protection reasons. When homosexual conduct is made criminal by the law of the State, that declaration in and of itself is an invitation to subject homosexual persons to discrimination both in the public and in the private spheres. The central holding of Bowers has been brought in question by this case, and it should be addressed. Its continuance as precedent demeans the lives of homosexual persons.

The stigma this criminal statute imposes, moreover, is not trivial. The offense, to be sure, is but a class C misdemeanor, a minor offense in the Texas legal system. Still, it remains a criminal offense with all that imports for the dignity of the persons charged. The petitioners will bear on their record the history of their criminal convictions. Just this Term we rejected various challenges to state laws requiring the registration of sex offenders. Smith v. Doe, 538 U. S. 84 (2003); Connecticut Dept. of Public Safety v. Doe, 538 U. S. 1 (2003). We are advised that if Texas convicted an adult for private, consensual homosexual conduct under the statute here in question the convicted person would come within the registration laws of at least four States were he or she to be subject to their jurisdiction. Pet. for Cert. 13, and n. 12 (citing Idaho Code §§18-8301 to 18-8326 (Cum. Supp. 2002); La. Code Crim. Proc. Ann. §§15:540-15:549 *576(West 2003); Miss. Code Ann. §§45-33-21 to 45-33-57 (Lexis 2003); S. C. Code Ann. §§23-3-400 to 23-3-490 (West 2002)). This underscores the consequential nature of the punishment and the state-sponsored condemnation attendant to the criminal prohibition. Furthermore, the Texas criminal conviction carries with it the other collateral consequences always following a conviction, such as notations on job application forms, to mention but one example.

The foundations of Bowers have sustained serious erosion from our recent decisions in Casey and Romer. When our precedent has been thus weakened, criticism from other sources is of greater significance. In the United States criticism of Bowers has been substantial and continuing, disapproving of its reasoning in all respects, not just as to its historical assumptions. See, e. g., C. Fried, Order and Law: Arguing the Reagan Revolution — A Firsthand Account 81-84 (1991); R. Posner, Sex and Reason 341-350 (1992). The courts of five different States have declined to follow it in interpreting provisions in their own state constitutions parallel to the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, see Jegley v. Picado, 349 Ark. 600, 80 S. W. 3d 332 (2002); Powell v. State, 270 Ga. 327, 510 S. E. 2d 18, 24 (1998); Gryczan v. State, 283 Mont. 433, 942 P. 2d 112 (1997); Campbell v. Sundquist, 926 S. W. 2d 250 (Tenn. App. 1996); Commonwealth v. Wasson, 842 S. W. 2d 487 (Ky. 1992).

To the extent Bowers relied on values we share with a wider civilization, it should be noted that the reasoning and holding in Bowers have been rejected elsewhere. The European Court of Human Rights has followed not Bowers but its own decision in Dudgeon v. United Kingdom. See P. G. & J. H. v. United Kingdom, App. No. 00044787/98, ¶ 56 (Eur. Ct. H. R., Sept. 25, 2001); Modinos v. Cyprus, 259 Eur. Ct. H. R. (1993); Norris v. Ireland, 142 Eur. Ct. H. R. (1988). Other nations, too, have taken action consistent with an affirmation of the protected right of homosexual adults to engage in intimate, consensual conduct. See Brief for Mary *577Robinson et al. as Amici Curiae 11-12. The right the petitioners seek in this case has been accepted as an integral part of human freedom in many other countries. There has been no showing that in this country the governmental interest in circumscribing personal choice is somehow more legitimate or urgent.

The doctrine of stare decisis is essential to the respect accorded to the judgments of the Court and to the stability of the law. It is not, however, an inexorable command. Payne v. Tennessee, 501 U. S. 808, 828 (1991) (“Stare decisis is not an inexorable command; rather, it ‘is a principle of policy and not a mechanical formula of adherence to the latest decision’ ” (quoting Helvering v. Hallock, 309 U. S. 106, 119 (1940))). In Casey we noted that when a court is asked to overrule a precedent recognizing a constitutional liberty interest, individual or societal reliance on the existence of that liberty cautions with particular strength against reversing course. 505 U. S., at 855-856; see also id., at 844 (“Liberty finds no refuge in a jurisprudence of doubt”). The holding in Bowers, however, has not induced detrimental reliance comparable to some instances where recognized individual rights are involved. Indeed, there has been no individual or societal reliance on Bowers of the sort that could counsel against overturning its holding once there are compelling reasons to do so. Bowers itself causes uncertainty, for the precedents before and after its issuance contradict its central holding.

The rationale of Bowers does not withstand careful analysis. In his dissenting opinion in Bowers Justice Stevens came to these conclusions:

“Our prior cases make two propositions abundantly clear. First, the fact that the governing majority in a State has traditionally viewed a particular practice as immoral is not a sufficient reason for upholding a law prohibiting the practice; neither history nor tradition could save a law prohibiting miscegenation from consti*578tutional attack. Second, individual decisions by married persons, concerning the intimacies of their physical relationship, even when not intended to produce offspring, are a form of ‘liberty’ protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Moreover, this protection extends to intimate choices by unmarried as well as married persons.” 478 U. S., at 216 (footnotes and citations omitted).

Justice Stevens’ analysis, in our view, should have been controlling in Bowers and should control here.

Bowers was not correct when it was decided, and it is not correct today. It ought not to remain binding precedent. Bowers v. Hardwick should be and now is overruled.

The present case does not involve minors. It does not involve persons who might be injured or coerced or who are situated in relationships where consent might not easily be refused. It does not involve public conduct or prostitution. It does not involve whether the government must give formal recognition to any relationship that homosexual persons seek to enter. The case does involve two adults who, with full and mutual consent from each other, engaged in sexual practices common to a homosexual lifestyle. The petitioners are entitled to respect for their private lives. The State cannot demean their existence or control their destiny by making their private sexual conduct a crime. Their right to liberty under the Due Process Clause gives them the full right to engage in their conduct without intervention of the government. “It is a promise of the Constitution that there is a realm of personal liberty which the government may not enter.” Casey, supra, at 847. The Texas statute furthers no legitimate state interest which can justify its intrusion into the personal and private life of the individual.

Had those who drew and ratified the Due Process Clauses of the Fifth Amendment or the Fourteenth Amendment known the components of liberty in its manifold possibilities, they might have been more specific. They did not presume *579to have this insight. They knew times can blind us to certain truths and later generations can see that laws once thought necessary and proper in fact serve only to oppress. As the Constitution endures, persons in every generation can invoke its principles in their own search for greater freedom.

The judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Texas Fourteenth District is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Justice O’Connor,

concurring in the judgment.

The Court today overrules Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186 (1986). I joined Bowers, and do not join the Court in overruling it. Nevertheless, I agree with the Court that Texas’ statute banning same-sex sodomy is unconstitutional. See Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 21.06 (2003). Rather than relying on the substantive component of the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause, as the Court does, I base my conclusion on the Fourteenth Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause.

The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment “is essentially a direction that all persons similarly situated should be treated alike.” Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, Inc., 473 U. S. 432, 439 (1986); see also Plyler v. Doe, 457 U. S. 202, 216 (1982). Under our rational basis standard of review, “legislation is presumed to be valid and will be sustained if the classification drawn by the statute is rationally related to a legitimate state interest.” Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, supra, at 440; see also Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S. 528, 534 (1973); Romer v. Evans, 517 U. S. 620, 632-633 (1996); Nordlinger v. Hahn, 505 U. S. 1, 11-12 (1992).

Laws such as economic or tax legislation that are scrutinized under rational basis review normally pass constitutional muster, since “the Constitution presumes that even improvident decisions will eventually be rectified by the *580democratic processes.” Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, supra, at 440; see also Fitzgerald v. Racing Assn. of Central Iowa, ante, p. 103; Williamson v. Lee Optical of Okla., Inc., 348 U. S. 483 (1955). We have consistently held, however, that some objectives, such as “a bare ... desire to harm a politically unpopular group,” are not legitimate state interests. Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, supra, at 534. See also Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, supra, at 446-447; Romer v. Evans, supra, at 632. When a law exhibits such a desire to harm a politically unpopular group, we have applied a more searching form of rational basis review to strike down such laws under the Equal Protection Clause.

We have been most likely to apply rational basis review to hold a law unconstitutional under the Equal Protection Clause where, as here, the challenged legislation inhibits personal relationships. In Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, for example, we held that a law preventing those households containing an individual unrelated to any other member of the household from receiving food stamps violated equal protection because the purpose of the law was to “ ‘discriminate against hippies.’ ” 413 U. S., at 534. The asserted governmental interest in preventing food stamp fraud was not deemed sufficient to satisfy rational basis review. Id., at 535-538. In Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438, 447-455 (1972), we refused to sanction a law that discriminated between married and unmarried persons by prohibiting the distribution of contraceptives to single persons. Likewise, in Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, supra, we held that it was irrational for a State to require a home for the mentally disabled to obtain a special use permit when other residences — like fraternity houses and apartment buildings — did not have to obtain such a permit. And in Romer v. Evans, we disallowed a state statute that “im-pos[ed] a broad and undifferentiated disability on a single named group” — specifically, homosexuals. 517 U. S., at 632.

*581The statute at issue here makes sodomy a crime only if a person “engages in deviate sexual intercourse with another individual of the same sex.” Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 21.06(a) (2003). Sodomy between opposite-sex partners, however, is not a crime in Texas. That is, Texas treats the same conduct differently based solely on the participants. Those harmed by this law are people who have a same-sex sexual orientation and thus are more likely to engage in behavior prohibited by § 21.06.

The Texas statute makes homosexuals unequal in the eyes of the law by making particular conduct — and only that conduct — subject to criminal sanction. It appears that prosecutions under Texas’ sodomy law are rare. See State v. Morales, 869 S. W. 2d 941, 943 (Tex. 1994) (noting in 1994 that § 21.06 “has not been, and in all probability will not be, enforced against private consensual conduct between adults”). This case shows, however, that prosecutions under §21.06 do occur. And while the penalty imposed on petitioners in this case was relatively minor, the consequences of conviction are not. It appears that petitioners’ convictions, if upheld, would disqualify them from or restrict their ability to engage in a variety of professions, including medicine, athletic training, and interior design. See, e.g., Tex. Occ. Code Ann. § 164.051(a)(2)(B) (2003 Pamphlet) (physician); § 451.251(a)(1) (athletic trainer); § 1053.252(2) (interior designer). Indeed, were petitioners to move to one of four States, their convictions would require them to register as sex offenders to local law enforcement. See, e.g., Idaho Code §18-8304 (Cum. Supp. 2002); La. Stat. Ann. § 15:542 (West Cum. Supp. 2003); Miss. Code Ann. §45-33-25 (West 2003); S. C. Code Ann. § 23-3-430 (West Cum. Supp. 2002); cf. ante, at 575-576.

And the effect of Texas’ sodomy law is not just limited to the threat of prosecution or consequence of conviction. Texas’ sodomy law brands all homosexuals as criminals, thereby making it more difficult for homosexuals to be treated in the same manner as everyone else. Indeed, Texas *582itself has previously acknowledged the collateral effects of the law, stipulating in a prior challenge to this action that the law “legally sanctions discrimination against [homosexuals] in a variety of ways unrelated to the criminal law,” including in the areas of “employment, family issues, and housing.” State v. Morales, 826 S. W. 2d 201, 203 (Tex. App. 1992).

Texas attempts to justify its law, and the effects of the law, by arguing that the statute satisfies rational basis review because it furthers the legitimate governmental interest of the promotion of morality. In Bowers, we held that a state law criminalizing sodomy as applied to homosexual couples did not violate substantive due process. We rejected the argument that no rational basis existed to justify the law, pointing to the government’s interest in promoting morality. 478 U. S., at 196. The only question in front of the Court in Bowers was whether the substantive component of the Due Process Clause protected a right to engage in homosexual sodomy. Id., at 188, n. 2. Bowers did not hold that moral disapproval of a group is a rational basis under the Equal Protection Clause to criminalize homosexual sodomy when heterosexual sodomy is not punished.

This case raises a different issue than Bowers: whether, under the Equal Protection Clause, moral disapproval is a legitimate state interest to justify by itself a statute that bans homosexual sodomy, but not heterosexual sodomy. It is not. Moral disapproval of this group, like a bare desire to harm the group, is an interest that is insufficient to satisfy rational basis review under the Equal Protection Clause. See, e. g., Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S., at 534; Romer v. Evans, 517 U. S., at 634-635. Indeed, we have never held that moral disapproval, without any other asserted state interest, is a sufficient rationale under the Equal Protection Clause to justify a law that discriminates among groups of persons.

*583Moral disapproval of a group cannot be a legitimate governmental interest under the Equal Protection Clause because legal classifications must not be “drawn for the purpose of disadvantaging the group burdened by the law.” Id., at 633. Texas’ invocation of moral disapproval as a legitimate state interest proves nothing more than Texas’ desire to criminalize homosexual sodomy. But the Equal Protection Clause prevents a State from creating “a classification of persons undertaken for its own sake.” Id., at 635. And because Texas so rarely enforces its sodomy law as applied to private, consensual acts, the law serves more as a statement of dislike and disapproval against homosexuals than as a tool to stop criminal behavior. The Texas sodomy law “raise[s] the inevitable inference that the disadvantage imposed is born of animosity toward the class of persons affected.” Id., at 634.

Texas argues, however, that the sodomy law does not discriminate against homosexual persons. Instead, the State maintains that the law discriminates only against homosexual conduct. While it is true that the law applies only to conduct, the conduct targeted by this law is conduct that is closely correlated with being homosexual. Under such circumstances, Texas’ sodomy law is targeted at more than conduct. It is instead directed toward gay persons as a class. “After all, there can hardly be more palpable discrimination against a class than making the conduct that defines the class criminal.” Id., at 641 (SCALIA, J., dissenting) (internal quotation marks omitted). When a State makes homosexual conduct criminal, and not “deviate sexual intercourse” committed by persons of different sexes, “that declaration in and of itself is an invitation to subject homosexual persons to discrimination both in the public and in the private spheres.” Ante, at 575.

Indeed, Texas law confirms that the sodomy statute is directed toward homosexuals as a class. In Texas, calling a person a homosexual is slander per se because the word “ho*584mosexual” “impute[s] the commission of a crime.” Plumley v. Landmark Chevrolet, Inc., 122 F. 3d 308, 310 (CA5 1997) (applying Texas law); see also Head v. Newton, 596 S. W. 2d 209, 210 (Tex. App. 1980). The State has admitted that because of the sodomy law, being homosexual carries the presumption of being a criminal. See State v. Morales, 826 S. W. 2d, at 202-203 (“[T]he statute brands lesbians and gay men as criminals and thereby legally sanctions discrimination against them in a variety of ways unrelated to the criminal law”)- Texas’ sodomy law therefore results in discrimination against homosexuals as a class in an array of areas outside the criminal law. See ibid. In Romer v. Evans, we refused to sanction a law that singled out homosexuals “for disfavored legal status.” 517 U. S., at 633. The same is true here. The Equal Protection Clause “‘neither knows nor tolerates classes among citizens.’” Id., at 623 (quoting Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U. S. 537, 559 (1896) (Harlan, J., dissenting)).

A State can of course assign certain consequences to a violation of its criminal law. But the State cannot single out one identifiable class of citizens for punishment that does not apply to everyone else, with moral disapproval as the only asserted state interest for the law. The Texas sodomy statute subjects homosexuals to “a lifelong penalty and stigma. A legislative classification that threatens the creation of an. underclass ... cannot be reconciled with” the Equal Protection Clause. Plyler v. Doe, 457 U. S., at 239 (Powell, J., concurring).

Whether a sodomy law that is neutral both in effect and application, see Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U. S. 356 (1886), would violate the substantive component of the Due Process Clause is an issue that need not be decided today. I am confident, however, that so long as the Equal Protection Clause requires a sodomy law to apply equally to the private consensual conduct of homosexuals and heterosexuals alike, such a *585law would not long stand in our democratic society. In the words of Justice Jackson:

“The framers of the Constitution knew, and we should not forget today, that there is no more effective practical guaranty against arbitrary and unreasonable government than to require that the principles of law which officials would impose upon a minority be imposed generally. Conversely, nothing opens the door to arbitrary action so effectively as to allow those officials to pick and choose only a few to whom they will apply legislation and thus to escape the political retribution that might be visited upon them if larger numbers were affected.” Railway Express Agency, Inc. v. New York, 336 U. S. 106, 112-113 (1949) (concurring opinion).

That this law as applied to private, consensual conduct is unconstitutional under the Equal Protection Clause does not mean that other laws distinguishing between heterosexuals and homosexuals would similarly fail under rational basis review. Texas cannot assert any legitimate state interest here, such as national security or preserving the traditional institution of marriage. Unlike the moral disapproval of same-sex relations — the asserted state interest in this case— other reasons exist to promote the institution of marriage beyond mere moral disapproval of an excluded group.

A law branding one class of persons as criminal based solely on the State’s moral disapproval of that class and the conduct associated with that class runs contrary to the values of the Constitution and the Equal Protection Clause, under any standard of review. I therefore concur in the Court’s judgment that Texas’ sodomy law banning “deviate sexual intercourse” between consenting adults of the same sex, but not between consenting adults of different sexes, is unconstitutional.

*586Justice Scalia,

with whom The Chief Justice and Justice Thomas join, dissenting.

“Liberty finds no refuge in a jurisprudence of doubt.” Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U. S. 833, 844 (1992). That was the Court’s sententious response, barely more than a decade ago, to those seeking to overrule Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973). The Court’s response today, to those who have engaged in a 17-year crusade to overrule Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186 (1986), is very different. The need for stability and certainty presents no barrier.

Most of the rest of today’s opinion has no relevance to its actual holding — that the Texas statute “furthers no legitimate state interest which can justify” its application to petitioners under rational-basis review. Ante, at 578 (overruling Bowers to the extent it sustained Georgia’s antisodomy statute under the rational-basis test). Though there is discussion of “fundamental proposition[s],” ante, at 565, and “fundamental decisions,” ibid., nowhere does the Court’s opinion declare that homosexual sodomy is a “fundamental right” under the Due Process Clause; nor does it subject the Texas law to the standard of review that would be appropriate (strict scrutiny) if homosexual sodomy were a “fundamental right.” Thus, while overruling the outcome of Bowers, the Court leaves strangely untouched its central legal conclusion: “[Respondent would have us announce ... a fundamental right to engage in homosexual sodomy. This we are quite unwilling to do.” 478 U. S., at 191. Instead the Court simply describes petitioners’ conduct as “an exercise of their liberty” — which it undoubtedly is — and proceeds to apply an unheard-of form of rational-basis review that will have far-reaching implications beyond this case. Ante, at 564.

I

I begin with the Court’s surprising readiness to reconsider a decision rendered a mere 17 years ago in Bowers v. Hard-*587wick. I do not myself believe in rigid adherence to stare decisis in constitutional cases; but I do believe that we should be consistent rather than manipulative in invoking the doctrine. Today’s opinions in support of reversal do not bother to distinguish — or indeed, even bother to mention— the paean to stare decisis coauthored by three Members of today’s majority in Planned Parenthood v. Casey. There, when stare decisis meant preservation of judicially invented abortion rights, the widespread criticism of Roe was strong reason to reaffirm it:

“Where, in the performance of its judicial duties, the Court decides a case in such a way as to resolve the sort of intensely divisive controversy reflected in Roe[,] . . . its decision has a dimension that the resolution of the normal case does not carry. ... [T]o overrule under fire in the absence of the most compelling reason .. . would subvert the Court’s legitimacy beyond any serious question.” 505 U. S., at 866-867.

Today, however, the widespread opposition to Bowers, a decision resolving an issue as “intensely divisive” as the issue in Roe, is offered as a reason in favor of overruling it. See ante, at 576-577. Gone, too, is any “enquiry” (of the sort conducted in Casey) into whether the decision sought to be overruled has “proven ‘unworkable,’” Casey, supra, at 855.

Today’s approach to stare decisis invites us to overrule an erroneously decided precedent (including an “intensely divisive” decision) if: (1) its foundations have been “ero[ded]” by subsequent decisions, ante, at 576; (2) it has been subject to “substantial and continuing” criticism, ibid.; and (3) it has not induced “individual or societal reliance” that counsels against overturning, ante, at 577. The problem is that Roe itself — which today’s majority surely has no disposition to overrule — satisfies these conditions to at least the same degree as Bowers.

*588(1) A preliminary digressive observation with regard to the first factor: The Court’s claim that Planned Parenthood v. Casey, supra, “casts some doubt” upon the holding in Bowers (or any other case, for that matter) does not withstand analysis. Ante, at 571. As far as its holding is concerned, Casey provided a less expansive right to abortion than did Roe, which was already on the books when Bowers was decided. And if the Court is referring not to the holding of Casey, but to the dictum of its famed sweet-mystery-of-life passage, ante, at 574 (“ At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery. of human life’ ”): That “casts some doubt” upon either the totality of our jurisprudence or else (presumably the right answer) nothing at all. I have never heard of a law that attempted to restrict one’s “right to define” certain concepts; and if the passage calls into question the government’s power to regulate actions based on one’s self-defined “concept of existence, etc.,” it is the passage that ate the rule of law.

I do not quarrel with the Court’s claim that Romer v. Evans, 517 U. S. 620 (1996), “eroded” the “foundations” of Bowers’ rational-basis holding. See Romer, supra, at 640-643 (Scalia, J., dissenting). But Roe and Casey have been equally “eroded” by Washington v. Glucksberg, 521 U. S. 702, 721 (1997), which held that only fundamental rights which are “‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition’” qualify for anything other than rational-basis scrutiny under the doctrine of “substantive due process.” Roe and Casey, of course, subjected the restriction of abortion to heightened scrutiny without even attempting to establish that the freedom to abort was rooted in this Nation’s tradition.

(2) Bowers, the Court says, has been subject to “substantial and continuing [criticism], disapproving of its reasoning in all respects, not just as to its historical assumptions.” Ante, at 576. Exactly what those nonhistorical criticisms are, and whether the Court even agrees with them, are left *589unsaid, although the Court does cite two books. See ibid. (citing C. Fried, Order and Law: Arguing the Reagan Revolution — A Firsthand Account 81-84 (1991); R. Posner, Sex and Reason 341-350 (1992)).1 Of course, Roe too (and by extension Casey) had been (and still is) subject to unrelenting criticism, including criticism from the two commentators cited by the Court today. See Fried, supra, at 75 (“Roe was a prime example of twisted judging”); Posner, supra, at 337 (“[The Court’s] opinion in Roe . . . fails to measure up to professional expectations regarding judicial opinions”); Posner, Judicial Opinion Writing, 62 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1421, 1434 (1995) (describing the opinion in Roe as an “embarrassing performance]”).

(3) That leaves, to distinguish the rock-solid, unamendable disposition of Roe from the readily overrulable Bowers, only the third factor. “[T]here has been,” the Court says, “no individual or societal reliance on Bowers of the sort that could counsel against overturning its holding . . . .” Ante, at 577. It seems to me that the “societal reliance” on the principles confirmed in Bowers and discarded today has been overwhelming. Countless judicial decisions and legislative enactments have relied on the ancient proposition that a governing majority’s belief that certain sexual behavior is “immoral and unacceptable” constitutes a rational basis for regulation. See, e. g., Williams v. Pryor, 240 F. 3d 944, 949 (CA11 2001) (citing Bowers in upholding Alabama’s prohibition on the sale of sex toys on the ground that “[t]he crafting and safeguarding of public morality . . . indisputably is a legitimate government interest under rational basis scrutiny”); Milner v. Apfel, 148 F. 3d 812, 814 (CA7 1998) (citing Bowers for the proposition that “[legislatures are permitted to legislate with regard to morality ... rather than confined *590to preventing demonstrable harms”); Holmes v. California Army National Guard, 124 F. 3d 1126, 1136 (CA9 1997) (relying on Bowers in upholding the federal statute and regulations banning from military service those who engage in homosexual conduct); Owens v. State, 352 Md. 663, 683, 724 A. 2d 43, 53 (1999) (relying on Bowers in holding that “a person has no constitutional right to engage in sexual intercourse, at least outside of marriage”); Sherman v. Henry, 928 S. W. 2d 464, 469-473 (Tex. 1996) (relying on Bowers in rejecting a claimed constitutional right to commit adultery). We ourselves relied extensively on Bowers when we concluded, in Barnes v. Glen Theatre, Inc., 501 U. S. 560, 569 (1991), that Indiana’s public indecency statute furthered “a substantial government interest in protecting order and morality,” ibid. (plurality opinion); see also id., at 575 (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment). State laws against bigamy, same-sex marriage, adult incest, prostitution, masturbation, adultery, fornication, bestiality, and obscenity are likewise sustainable only in light of Bowers’ validation of laws based on moral choices. Every single one of these laws is called into question by today’s decision; the Court makes no effort to cabin the scope of its decision to exclude them from its holding. See ante, at 572 (noting “an emerging awareness that liberty gives substantial protection to adult persons in deciding how to conduct their private lives in matters pertaining to sex” (emphasis added)). The impossibility of distinguishing homosexuality from other traditional “morals” offenses is precisely why Bowers rejected the rational-basis challenge. “The law,” it said, “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.” 478 U. S., at 196.2

*591What a massive disruption of the current social order, therefore, the overruling of Bowers entails. Not so the overruling of Roe, which would simply have restored the regime that existed for centuries before 1973, in which the permissibility of, and restrictions upon, abortion were determined legislatively State by State. Casey, however, chose to base its stare decisis determination on a different “sort” of reliance. “[P]eople,” it said, “have organized intimate relationships and made choices that define their views of themselves and their places in society, in reliance on the availability of abortion in the event that contraception should fail.” 505 U. S., at 856. This falsely assumes that the consequence of overruling Roe would have been to make abortion unlawful. It would not; it would merely have permitted *592the States to do so. Many States would unquestionably have declined to prohibit abortion, and others would not have prohibited it within six months (after which the most significant reliance interests would have expired). Even for persons in States other than these, the choice would not have been between abortion and childbirth, but between abortion nearby and abortion in a neighboring State.

To tell the truth, it does not surprise me, and should surprise no one, that the Court has chosen today to revise the standards of stare decisis set forth in Casey. It has thereby exposed Casey’s extraordinary deference to precedent for the result-oriented expedient that it is.

II

Having decided that it need not adhere to stare decisis, the Court still must establish that Bowers was wrongly decided and that the Texas statute, as applied to petitioners, is unconstitutional.

Texas Penal Code Ann. § 21.06(a) (2003) undoubtedly imposes constraints on liberty. So do laws prohibiting prostitution, recreational use of heroin, and, for that matter, working more than 60 hours per week in a bakery. But there is no right to “liberty” under the Due Process Clause, though today’s opinion repeatedly makes that claim. Ante, at 567 (“The liberty protected by the Constitution allows homosexual persons the right to make this choice”); ante, at "574 (“ ‘These matters ... are central to the liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment’ ”); ante, at 578 (“Their right to liberty under the Due Process Clause gives them the full right to engage in their conduct without intervention of the government”). The Fourteenth Amendment expressly allows States to deprive their citizens of “liberty,” so long as “due process of law” is provided:

“No state shall... deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law” Amdt. 14 (emphasis added).

*593Our opinions applying the doctrine known as “substantive due process” hold that the Due Process Clause prohibits States from infringing fundamental liberty interests, unless the infringement is narrowly tailored to serve a compelling state interest. Washington v. Glucksberg, 521 U. S., at 721. We have held repeatedly, in cases the Court today does not overrule, that only fundamental rights qualify for this so-called “heightened scrutiny” protection — that is, rights which are “ ‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition,’” ibid. See Reno v. Flores, 507 U. S. 292, 303 (1993) (fundamental liberty interests must be “so rooted in the traditions and conscience of our people as to be ranked as fundamental” (internal quotation marks and citations omitted)); United States v. Salerno, 481 U. S. 739, 751 (1987) (same). See also Michael H. v. Gerald D., 491 U. S. 110, 122 (1989) (“[W]e have insisted not merely that the interest denominated as a ‘liberty’ be ‘fundamental’ . . . but also that it be an interest traditionally protected by our society”); Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494, 503 (1977) (plurality opinion); Meyer v. Nebraska, 262 U. S. 390, 399 (1923) (Fourteenth Amendment protects “those privileges long recognized. at common law as essential to the orderly pursuit of happiness by free men” (emphasis added)).3 All other liberty interests may be abridged or abrogated pursuant to a validly enacted state law if that law is rationally related to a legitimate state interest.

*594Bowers held, first, that criminal prohibitions of homosexual sodomy are not subject to heightened scrutiny because they do not implicate a “fundamental right” under the Due Process Clause, 478 U. S., at 191-194. Noting that “[proscriptions against that conduct have ancient roots,” id., at 192, that “[s]odomy was a criminal offense at common law and was forbidden by the laws of the original 13 States when they ratified the Bill of Rights,” ibid., and that many States had retained their bans on sodomy, id., at 193, Bowers concluded that a right to engage in homosexual sodomy was not “ ‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition,’ ” id., at 192.

The Court today does not overrule this holding. Not once does it describe homosexual sodomy as a “fundamental right” or a “fundamental liberty interest,” nor does it subject the Texas statute to strict scrutiny. Instead, having failed to establish that the right to homosexual sodomy is “ ‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition,’ ” the Court concludes that the application of Texas’s statute to petitioners’ conduct fails the rational-basis test, and overrules Bowers’ holding to the contrary, see id., at 196. “The Texas statute furthers no legitimate state interest which can justify its intrusion into the personal and private life of the individual.” Ante, at 578.

I shall address that rational-basis holding presently. First, however, I address some aspersions that the Court casts upon Bowers’ conclusion that homosexual sodomy is not a “fundamental right” — even though, as I have said, the Court does not have the boldness to reverse that conclusion.

III

The Court’s description of “the state of the law” at the time of Bowers only confirms that Bowers was right. Ante, at 566. The Court points to Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479, 481-482 (1965). But that case expressly disclaimed any reliance on the doctrine of “substantive due *595process,” and grounded the so-called “right to privacy” in penumbras of constitutional provisions other than the Due Process Clause. Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438 (1972), likewise had nothing to do with “substantive due process”; it invalidated a Massachusetts law prohibiting the distribution of contraceptives to unmarried persons solely on the basis of the Equal Protection Clause. Of course Eisenstadt contains well-known dictum relating to the “right to privacy,” but this referred to the right recognized in Gris-wold — a right penumbral to the specific guarantees in the Bill of Rights, and not a “substantive due process” right.

Roe v. Wade recognized that the right to abort an unborn child was a “fundamental right” protected by the Due Process Clause. 410 U. S., at 155. The Roe Court, however, made no attempt to establish that this right was “‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition’”; instead, it based its conclusion that “the Fourteenth Amendment’s concept of personal liberty ... is broad enough to encompass a woman’s decision whether or not to terminate her pregnancy” on its own normative judgment that antiabortion laws were undesirable. See id., at 153. We have since rejected Roe’s holding that regulations of abortion must be narrowly tailored to serve a compelling state interest, see Planned Parenthood v. Casey, 505 U. S., at 876 (joint opinion of O’Connor, Kennedy, and Souter, JJ.); id., at 951-953 (Rehnquist, C. J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part) — and thus, by logical implication, Roe’s holding that the right to abort an unborn child is a “fundamental right.” See 505 U. S., at 843-912 (joint opinion of O’Connor, Kennedy, and Souter, JJ.) (not once describing abortion as a “fundamental right” or a “fundamental liberty interest”).

After discussing the history of antisodomy laws, ante, at 568-571, the Court proclaims that, “it should be noted that there is no longstanding history in this country of laws directed at homosexual conduct as a distinct matter,” ante, *596at 568. This observation in no way casts into doubt the “definitive [historical] eonclusio[n],” ibid., on which Bowers relied: that our Nation has a longstanding history of laws prohibiting sodomy in general — regardless of whether it was performed by same-sex or opposite-sex couples:

“It is obvious to us that neither of these formulations would extend a fundamental right to homosexuals to engage in acts of consensual sodomy. Proscriptions against that conduct have ancient roots. Sodomy was a criminal offense at common law and was forbidden by the laws of the original 13 States when they ratified the Bill of Rights. In 1868, when the Fourteenth Amendment was ratified, all but 5 of the 37 States in the Union had criminal sodomy laws. In fact, until 1961, all 50 States outlawed sodomy, and today, 24 States and the District of Columbia continue to provide criminal penalties for sodomy performed in private and between consenting adults. Against this background, to claim that a right to engage in such conduct is ‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition’ or ‘implicit in the concept of ordered liberty’ is, at best, facetious.” 478 U. S., at 192-194 (citations and footnotes omitted; emphasis added).

It is (as Bowers recognized) entirely irrelevant whether the laws in our long national tradition criminalizing homosexual sodomy were “directed at homosexual conduct as a distinct matter.” Ante, at 568. Whether homosexual sodomy was prohibited by a law targeted at same-sex sexual relations or by a more general law prohibiting both homosexual and heterosexual sodomy, the only relevant point is that it was criminalized — which suffices to establish that homosexual sodomy is not a right “deeply rooted in our Nation’s history and tradition.” The Court today agrees that homosexual sodomy was criminalized and thus does not dispute the facts on which Bowers actually relied.

*597Next the Court makes the claim, again unsupported by any citations, that “[l]aws prohibiting sodomy do not seem to have been enforced against consenting adults acting in private.” Ante, at 569. The key qualifier here is “acting in private” — since the Court admits that sodomy laws were enforced against consenting adults (although the Court contends that prosecutions were “infrequen[t],” ibid.). I do not know what “acting in private” means; surely consensual sodomy, like heterosexual intercourse, is rarely performed on stage. If all the Court means by “acting in private” is “on private premises, with the doors closed and windows covered,” it is entirely unsurprising that evidence of enforcement would be hard to come by. (Imagine the circumstances that would enable a search warrant to be obtained for a residence on the ground that there was probable cause to believe that consensual sodomy was then and there occurring.) Surely that lack of evidence would not sustain the proposition that consensual sodomy on private premises with the doors closed and windows covered was regarded as a “fundamental right,” even though all other consensual sodomy was criminalized. There are 203 prosecutions for consensual, adult homosexual sodomy reported in the West Reporting system and official state reporters from the years 1880-1995. See W. Eskridge, Gaylaw: Challenging the Apartheid of the Closet 375 (1999) (hereinafter Gaylaw). There are also records of 20 sodomy prosecutions and 4 executions during the colonial period. J. Katz, Gay/Lesbian Almanac 29, 58, 663 (1983). Bowers’ conclusion that homosexual sodomy is not a fundamental right “deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition” is utterly unassailable.

Realizing that fact, the Court instead says: “[W]e think that our laws and traditions in the past half century are of most relevance here. These references show an emerging awareness that liberty gives substantial protection to adult persons in deciding how to conduct their private lives in matters pertaining to sex” Ante, at 571-572 (emphasis *598added). Apart from the fact that such an “emerging awareness” does not establish a “fundamental right,” the statement is factually false. States continue to prosecute all sorts of crimes by adults “in matters pertaining to sex”: prostitution, adult incest, adultery, obscenity, and child pornography. Sodomy laws, too, have been enforced “in the past half century,” in which there have been 134 reported cases involving prosecutions for consensual, adult, homosexual sodomy. Gaylaw 375. In relying, for evidence of an “emerging recognition,” upon the American Law Institute’s 1955 recommendation not to criminalize “ ‘consensual sexual relations conducted in private,’ ” ante, at 572, the Court ignores the fact that this recommendation was “a point of resistance in most of the states that considered adopting the Model Penal Code.” Gaylaw 159.

In any event, an “emerging awareness” is by definition not “deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition[s],” as we have said “fundamental right” status requires. Constitutional entitlements do not spring into existence because some States choose to lessen or eliminate criminal sanctions on certain behavior. Much less do they spring into existence, as the Court seems to believe, because foreign nations decriminalize conduct. The Bowers majority opinion never relied on “values we share with a wider civilization,” ante, at 576, but rather rejected the claimed right to sodomy on the ground that such a right was not “ ‘deeply rooted in this Nation's history and tradition,’” 478 U.S., at 193-194 (emphasis added). Bowers’ rational-basis holding is likewise devoid of any reliance on the views of a “wider civilization,” see id., at 196. The Court’s discussion of these foreign views (ignoring, of course, the many countries that have retained criminal prohibitions on sodomy) is therefore meaningless dicta. Dangerous dicta, however, since “this Court . . . should not impose foreign moods, fads, or fashions on Americans.” Foster v. Florida, 537 U. S. 990, n. (2002) (Thomas, J., concurring in denial of certiorari).

*599IV

I turn now to the ground on which the Court squarely rests its holding: the contention that there is no rational basis for the law here under attack. This proposition is so out of accord with our jurisprudence — indeed, with the jurisprudence of any society we know — that it requires little discussion.

The Texas statute undeniably seeks to further the belief of its citizens that certain forms of sexual behavior are “immoral and unacceptable,” Bowers, supra, at 196 — the same interest furthered by criminal laws against fornication, bigamy, adultery, adult incest, bestiality, and obscenity. Bowers held that this was a legitimate state interest. The Court today reaches the opposite conclusion. The Texas statute, it says, “furthers no legitimate state interest which can justify its intrusion into the personal and private life of the individual,” ante, at 578 (emphasis added). The Court embraces instead Justice Stevens’ declaration in his Bowers dissent, that “‘the fact that the governing majority in a State has traditionally viewed a particular practice as immoral is not a sufficient reason for upholding a law prohibiting the practice,’ ” ante, at 577. This effectively decrees the end of all morals legislation. If, as the Court asserts, the promotion of majoritarian sexual morality is not even a legitimate state interest, none of the above-mentioned laws can survive rational-basis review.

V

Finally, I turn to petitioners’ equal-protection challenge, which no Member of the Court save Justice O’Connor, ante, at 579 (opinion concurring in judgment), embraces: On its face § 21.06(a) applies equally to all persons. Men and women, heterosexuals and homosexuals, are all subject to its prohibition of deviate sexual intercourse with someone of the same sex. To be sure, § 21.06 does distinguish between the sexes insofar as concerns the partner with whom the sexual *600acts are performed: men can violate the law only with other men, and women only with other women. But this cannot itself be a denial of equal protection, since it is precisely the same distinction regarding partner that is drawn in state laws prohibiting marriage with someone of the same sex while permitting marriage with someone of the opposite sex.

The objection is made, however, that the antimiscegenation laws invalidated in Loving v. Virginia, 388 U. S. 1, 8 (1967), similarly were applicable to whites and blacks alike, and only distinguished between the races insofar as the partner was concerned. In Loving, however, we correctly applied heightened scrutiny, rather than the usual rational-basis review, because the Virginia statute was “designed to maintain White Supremacy.” Id., at 6, 11. A racially discriminatory purpose is always sufficient to subject a law to strict scrutiny, even a facially neutral law that makes no mention of race. See Washington v. Davis, 426 U. S. 229, 241-242 (1976). No purpose to discriminate against men or women as a class can be gleaned from the Texas law, so rational-basis review applies. That review is readily satisfied here by the same rational basis that satisfied it in Bowers — society’s belief that certain forms of sexual behavior are “immoral and unacceptable,” 478 U. S., at 196. This is the same justification that supports many other laws regulating sexual behavior that make a distinction based upon the identity of the partner — for example, laws against adultery, fornication, and adult incest, and laws refusing to recognize homosexual marriage.

Justice O’Connor argues that the discrimination in this law which must be justified is not its discrimination with regard to the sex of the partner but its discrimination with regard to the sexual proclivity of the principal actor.

“While it is true that the law applies only to conduct, the conduct targeted by this law is conduct that is closely correlated with being homosexual. Under such circumstances, Texas’ sodomy law is targeted at more than con*601duct. It is instead directed toward gay persons as a class.” Ante, at 583.

Of course the same could be said of any law. A law against public nudity targets “the conduct that is closely correlated with being a nudist,” and hence “is targeted at more than conduct”; it is “directed toward nudists as a class.” But be that as it may. Even if the Texas law does deny equal protection to “homosexuals as a class,” that denial still does not need to be justified by anything more than a rational basis, which our cases show is satisfied by the enforcement of traditional notions of sexual morality.

Justice O’Connor simply decrees application of “a more searching form of rational basis review” to the Texas statute. Ante, at 580. The cases she cites do not recognize such a standard, and reach their conclusions only after finding, as required by conventional rational-basis analysis, that no conceivable legitimate state interest supports the classification at issue. See Romer v. Evans, 517 U. S., at 635; Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, Inc., 473 U. S. 432, 448-450 (1985); Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S. 528, 534-538 (1973). Nor does Justice O’Connor explain precisely what her “more searching form” of rational-basis review consists of. It must at least mean, however, that laws exhibiting “a desire to harm a politically unpopular group,” ante, at 580, are invalid even though there may be a conceivable rational basis to support them.

This reasoning leaves on pretty shaky grounds state laws limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples. Justice O’Con-nor seeks to preserve them by the conclusory statement that “preserving the traditional institution of marriage” is a legitimate state interest. Ante, at 585. But “preserving the traditional institution of marriage” is just a kinder way of describing the State’s moral disapproval of same-sex couples. Texas’s interest in § 21.06 could be recast in similarly euphemistic terms: “preserving the traditional sexual mores of our society.” In the jurisprudence Justice O’Connor *602has seemingly created, judges can validate laws by characterizing them as “preserving the traditions of society” (good); or invalidate them by characterizing them as “expressing moral disapproval” (bad).

* * *

Today’s opinion is the product of a Court, which is the product of a law-profession culture, that has largely signed on to the so-called homosexual agenda, by which I mean the agenda promoted by some homosexual activists directed at eliminating the moral opprobrium that has traditionally attached to homosexual conduct. I noted in an earlier opinion the fact that the American Association of Law Schools (to which any reputable law school must seek to belong) excludes from membership any school that refuses to ban from . its job-interview facilities a law firm (no matter how small) that does not wish to hire as a prospective partner a person who openly engages in homosexual conduct. See Romer, supra, at 653.

One of the most revealing statements in today’s opinion is the Court’s grim warning that the criminalization of homosexual conduct is “an invitation to subject homosexual persons to discrimination both in the public and in the private spheres.” Ante, at 575. It is clear from this that the Court has taken sides in the culture war, departing from its role of assuring, as neutral observer, that the democratic rules of engagement are observed. Many Americans do not want persons who openly engage in homosexual conduct as partners in their business, as scoutmasters for their children, as teachers in their children’s schools, or as boarders in their home. They view this as protecting themselves and their families from a lifestyle that they believe to be immoral and destructive. The Court views it as “discrimination” which it is the function of our judgments to deter. So imbued is the Court with the law profession’s anti-anti-homosexual culture, that it is seemingly unaware that the attitudes of that *603culture are not obviously “mainstream”; that in most States what the Court calls “discrimination” against those who engage in homosexual acts is perfectly legal; that proposals to ban such “discrimination” under Title VII have repeatedly béen rejected by Congress, see Employment NonDiscrimination Act of 1994, S. 2238, 103d Cong., 2d Sess. (1994); Civil Rights Amendments, H. R. 5452, 94th Cong., 1st Sess. (1975); that in some cases such “discrimination” is mandated by federal statute, see 10 U. S. C. § 654(b)(1) (mandating discharge from the Armed Forces of any service member who engages in or intends to engage in homosexual acts); and that in some cases such “discrimination” is a constitutional right, see Boy Scouts of America v. Dale, 530 U. S. 640 (2000).

Let me be clear that I have nothing against homosexuals, or any other group, promoting their agenda through normal democratic means. Social perceptions of sexual and other morality change over time, and every group has the right to persuade its fellow citizens that its view of such matters is the best. That homosexuals have achieved some success in that enterprise is attested to by the fact that Texas is one of the few remaining States that criminalize private, consensual homosexual acts. But persuading one’s fellow citizens is one thing, and imposing one’s views in absence of democratic majority will is something else. I would no more require a State to criminalize homosexual acts — or, for that matter, display any moral disapprobation of them — than I would forbid it to do so. What Texas has chosen to do is well within , the range of traditional democratic action, and its hand should not be stayed through the invention of a brand-new “constitutional right” by a Court that is impatient of democratic change. It is indeed true that “later generations can see that laws once thought necessary and proper in fact serve only to oppress,” ante, at 579; and when that happens, later generations can repeal those laws. But it is the premise of our system that those judgments are to be made *604by the people, and not imposed by a governing caste that knows best.

One of the benefits of leaving regulation of this matter to the people rather than to the courts is that the people, unlike judges, need not carry things to their logical conclusion. The people may feel that their disapprobation of homosexual conduct is strong enough to disallow homosexual marriage, but not strong enough to criminalize private homosexual acts — and may legislate accordingly. The Court today pretends that it possesses a similar freedom of action, so that we need not fear judicial imposition of homosexual marriage, as. has recently occurred in Canada (in a decision that the Canadian Government has chosen not to appeal). See Halpern v. Toronto, 2003 WL 34950 (Ontario Ct. App.); Cohen, Dozens in Canada Follow Gay Couple’s Lead, Washington Post, June 12, 2003, p. A25. At the end of its opinion — after having laid waste the foundations of our rational-basis jurisprudence — the Court says that the present case “does not involve whether the government must give formal recognition to any relationship that homosexual persons seek to enter.” Ante, at 578. Do not believe it. More illuminating than this bald, unreasoned disclaimer is the progression of thought displayed by an earlier passage in the Court’s opinion, which notes the constitutional protections afforded to “personal decisions relating to marriage, procreation, contraception, family relationships, child rearing, and education,” and then declares that “[pjersons in a homosexual relationship may seek autonomy for these purposes, just as heterosexual persons do.” Ante, at 574 (emphasis added). Today’s opinion dismantles the structure of constitutional law that has permitted a distinction to be made between heterosexual and homosexual unions, insofar as formal recognition in marriage is concerned. If moral disapprobation of homosexual conduct is “no legitimate state interest” for purposes of proscribing that conduct, ante, at 578; and if, as the Court coos (casting aside all pretense of neutrality), “[w]hen *605sexuality finds overt expression in intimate conduct with another person, the conduct can be but one element in a personal bond that is more enduring,” ante, at 567; what justification could there possibly be for denying the benefits of marriage to homosexual couples exercising “[t]he liberty protected by the Constitution,” ibid,.? Surely not the encouragement of procreation, since the sterile and the elderly are allowed to marry. This case “does not involve” the issue of homosexual marriage only if one entertains the belief that principle and logic have nothing to do with the decisions of this Court. Many will hope that, as the Court comfortingly assures us, this is so.

The matters appropriate for this Court’s resolution are only three: Texas’s prohibition of sodomy neither infringes a “fundamental right” (which the Court does not dispute), nor is unsupported by a rational relation to what the Constitution considers a legitimate state interest, nor denies the equal protection of the laws. I dissent.

Justice Thomas,

dissenting.

I join Justice Scalia’s dissenting opinion. I write separately to note that the law before the Court today “is . . . uncommonly silly.” Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479, 527 (1965) (Stewart, J., dissenting). If I were a member of the Texas Legislature, I would vote to repeal it. Punishing someone for expressing his sexual preference through noncommercial consensual conduct with another adult does not appear to be a worthy way to expend valuable law enforcement resources.

Notwithstanding this, I recognize that as a Member of this Court I am not empowered to help petitioners and others similarly situated. My duty, rather, is to “decide cases ‘agreeably to the Constitution and laws of the United States.’” Id., at 530. And, just like Justice Stewart, I “can find [neither in the Bill of Rights nor any other part of the *606Constitution a] general right of privacy,” ibid., or as the Court terms it today, the “liberty of the person both in its spatial and more transcendent dimensions,” ante, at 562.

*623Justice Kennedy

delivered the opinion of the Court.

One century ago, the first Justice Harlan admonished this Court that the Constitution “neither knows nor tolerates classes among citizens.” Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U. S. 537, 559 (1896) (dissenting opinion). Unheeded then, those words now are understood to state a commitment to the law’s neutrality where the rights of persons are at stake. The Equal Protection Clause enforces this principle and today requires us to hold invalid a provision of Colorado’s Constitution.

I

The enactment challenged in this case is an amendment to the Constitution of the State of Colorado, adopted in a 1992 statewide referendum. The parties and the state courts refer to it as “Amendment 2,” its designation when submitted to the voters. The impetus for the amendment and the contentious campaign that preceded its adoption came in large part from ordinances that had been passed in various Colorado municipalities. For example, the cities of Aspen and Boulder and the city and County of Denver each had *624enacted ordinances which banned discrimination in many transactions and activities, including housing, employment, education, public accommodations, and health and welfare services. Denver Rev. Municipal Code, Art. IV, §§28-91 to 28-116 (1991); Aspen Municipal Code § 13-98 (1977); Boulder Rev. Code §§ 12-1-1 to 12 — 1—11 (1987). What gave rise to the statewide controversy was the protection the ordinances afforded to persons discriminated against by reason of their sexual orientation. See Boulder Rev. Code § 12-1-1 (defining “sexual orientation” as “the choice of sexual partners, i. e., bisexual, homosexual or heterosexual”); Denver Rev. Municipal Code, Art. IV, §28-92 (defining “sexual orientation” as “[t]he status of an individual as to his or her heterosexuality, homosexuality or bisexuality”). Amendment 2 repeals these ordinances to the extent they prohibit discrimination on the basis of “homosexual, lesbian or bisexual orientation, conduct, practices or relationships.” Colo. Const., Art. II, § 30b.

Yet Amendment 2, in explicit terms, does more than repeal or rescind these provisions. It prohibits all legislative, executive or judicial action at any level of state or local government designed to protect the named class, a class we shall refer to as homosexual persons or gays and lesbians. The amendment reads:

“No Protected Status Based on Homosexual, Lesbian or Bisexual Orientation. Neither the State of Colorado, through any of its branches or departments, nor any of its agencies, political subdivisions, municipalities or school districts, shall enact, adopt or enforce any statute, regulation, ordinance or policy whereby homosexual, lesbian or bisexual orientation, conduct, practices or relationships shall constitute or otherwise be the basis of or entitle any person or class of persons to have or claim any minority status, quota preferences, protected status or claim of discrimination. This Section of the Constitution shall be in all respects self-executing.” Ibid.

*625Soon after Amendment 2 was adopted, this litigation to declare its invalidity and enjoin its enforcement was commenced in the District Court for the City and County of Denver. Among the plaintiffs (respondents here) were homosexual persons, some of them government employees. They alleged that enforcement of Amendment 2 would subject them to immediate and substantial risk of discrimination on the basis of their sexual orientation. Other plaintiffs (also respondents here) included the three municipalities whose ordinances we have cited and certain other governmental entities which had acted earlier to protect homosexuals from discrimination but would be prevented by Amendment 2 from continuing to do so. Although Governor Romer had been on record opposing the adoption of Amendment 2, he was named in his official capacity as a defendant, together with the Colorado Attorney General and the State of Colorado.

The trial court granted a preliminary injunction to stay enforcement of Amendment 2, and an appeal was taken to the Supreme Court of Colorado. Sustaining the interim injunction and remanding the case for further proceedings, the State Supreme Court held that Amendment 2 was subject to strict scrutiny under the Fourteenth Amendment because it infringed the fundamental right of gays and lesbians to participate in the political process. Evans v. Romer, 854 R 2d 1270 (Colo. 1993) (Evans I). To reach this conclusion, the state court relied on our voting rights cases, e. g., Reynolds v. Sims, 377 U. S. 533 (1964); Carrington v. Rash, 380 U. S. 89 (1965); Harper v. Virginia Bd. of Elections, 383 U. S. 663 (1966); Williams v. Rhodes, 393 U. S. 23 (1968), and on our precedents involving discriminatory restructuring of governmental decisionmaking, see, e. g., Hunter v. Erickson, 393 U. S. 385 (1969); Reitman v. Mulkey, 387 U. S. 369 (1967); Washington v. Seattle School Dist. No. 1, 458 U. S. 457 (1982); Gordon v. Lance, 403 U. S. 1 (1971). On remand, the State advanced various arguments in an effort to show that *626Amendment 2 was narrowly tailored to serve compelling interests, but the trial court found none sufficient. It enjoined enforcement of Amendment 2, and the Supreme Court of Colorado, in a second opinion, affirmed the ruling. 882 P. 2d 1335 (1994) (Evans II). We granted certiorari, 513 U. S. 1146 (1995), and now affirm the judgment, but on a rationale different from that adopted by the State Supreme Court.

II

The State’s principal argument in defense of Amendment 2 is that it puts gays and lesbians in the same position as all other persons. So, the State says, the measure does no more than deny homosexuals special rights. This reading of the amendment’s language is implausible. We rely not upon our own interpretation of the amendment but upon the authoritative construction of Colorado’s Supreme Court. The state court, deeming it unnecessary to determine the full extent of the amendment’s reach, found it invalid even on a modest reading of its implications. The critical discussion of the amendment, set out in Evans /, is as follows:

“The immediate objective of Amendment 2 is, at a minimum, to repeal existing statutes, regulations, ordinances, and policies of state and local entities that barred ’discrimination based on sexual orientation. See Aspen, Colo., Mun. Code § 13-98 (1977) (prohibiting discrimination in employment, housing and public accommodations on the basis of sexual orientation); Boulder, Colo., Rev. Code §§ 12-1-2 to -4 (1987) (same); Denver, Colo., Rev. Mun. Code art. IV, §§28-91 to -116 (1991) (same); Executive Order No. D0035 (December 10,1990) (prohibiting employment discrimination for ‘all state employees, classified and exempt’ on the basis of sexual orientation); Colorado Insurance Code, § 10-3-1104, 4A C. R. S. (1992 Supp.) (forbidding health insurance providers from determining insurability and premiums based on an applicant’s, a beneficiary’s, or an insured’s *627sexual orientation); and various provisions prohibiting discrimination based on sexual orientation at state colleges.26

“The ‘ultimate effect’ of Amendment 2 is to prohibit any governmental entity from adopting similar, or more protective statutes, regulations, ordinances, or policies in the future unless the state constitution is first amended to permit such measures.” 854 P. 2d, at 1284-1285, and n. 26.

Sweeping and comprehensive is the change in legal status effected by this law. So much is evident from the ordinances the Colorado Supreme Court declared would be void by operation of Amendment 2. Homosexuals, by state decree, are put in a solitary class with respect to transactions and relations in both the private and governmental spheres. The amendment withdraws from homosexuals, but no others, specific legal protection from the injuries caused by discrimination, and it forbids reinstatement of these laws and policies.

The change Amendment 2 works in the legal status of gays and lesbians in the private sphere is far reaching, both on its own terms and when considered in light of the structure and operation of modern antidiscrimination laws. That structure is well illustrated by contemporary statutes and ordinances prohibiting discrimination by providers of public accommodations. “At common law, innkeepers, smiths, and others who ‘made profession of a public employment,’ were prohibited from refusing, without good reason, to serve a customer.” Hurley v. Irish-American Gay, Lesbian and Bisexual Group of Boston, Inc., 515 U. S. 557, 571 (1995). The duty was a general one and did not specify protection for particular groups. The common-law rules, however, proved *628insufficient in many instances, and it was settled early that the Fourteenth Amendment did not give Congress a general power to prohibit discrimination in public accommodations, Civil Rights Cases, 109 U. S. 3, 25 (1883). In consequence, most States have chosen to counter discrimination by enacting. detailed statutory schemes. See, e. g., S. D. Codified Laws §§20-13-10, 20-13-22, 20-13-23 (1995); Iowa Code §§216.6-216.8 (1994); Okla. Stat., Tit. 25, §§ 1302,1402 (1987); 43 Pa. Cons. Stat. §§953, 955 (Supp. 1995); N. J. Stat. Ann. §§10:5-3, 10:5-4 (West Supp. 1995); N. H. Rev. Stat. Ann. §§ 354-A:7, 354-A:10, 354-A:17 (1995); Minn. Stat. §363.03 (1991 and Supp. 1995).

Colorado’s state and municipal laws typify this emerging tradition of statutory protection and follow a consistent pattern. The laws first enumerate the persons or entities subject to a duty not to discriminate. The list goes well beyond the entities covered by the common law. The Boulder ordinance, for example, has a comprehensive definition of entities deemed places of “public accommodation.” They include “any place of business engaged in any sales to the general public and any place that offers services, facilities, privileges, or advantages to the general public or that receives financial support through solicitation of the general public or through governmental subsidy of any kind.” Boulder Rev. Code § 12 — 1—l(j) (1987). The Denver ordinance is of similar breadth, applying, for example, to hotels, restaurants, hospitals, dental clinics, theaters, banks, common carriers, travel and insurance agencies, and “shops and stores dealing with goods or services of any kind,” Denver Rev. Municipal Code, Art. IV, §28-92 (1991).

These statutes and ordinances also depart from the common law by enumerating the groups or persons within their ambit of protection. Enumeration is the essential device used to make the duty not to discriminate concrete and to provide guidance for those who must comply. In following this approach, Colorado’s state and local governments have *629not limited antidiscrimination laws to groups that have so far been given the protection of heightened equal protection scrutiny under our cases. See, e. g., J. E. B. v. Alabama ex rel. T B., 511 U. S. 127, 135 (1994) (sex); Lalli v. Lalli, 439 U. S. 259, 265 (1978) (illegitimacy); McLaughlin v. Florida, 379 U. S. 184, 191-192 (1964) (race); Oyama v. California, 332 U. S. 633 (1948) (ancestry). Rather, they set forth an extensive catalog of traits which cannot be the basis for discrimination, including age, military status, marital status, pregnancy, parenthood, custody of a minor child, political affiliation, physical or mental disability of an individual or of his or her associates — and, in recent times, sexual orientation. Aspen Municipal Code §13-98(a)(1) (1977); Boulder Rev. Code §§ 12-1-1 to 12-1-4 (1987); Denver Rev. Municipal Code, Art. IV, §§28-92 to 28-119 (1991); Colo. Rev. Stat. §§24-34-401 to 24-34-707 (1988 and Supp. 1995).

Amendment 2 bars homosexuals from seeming protection against the injuries that these public-accommodations laws address. That in itself is a severe consequence, but there is more. Amendment 2, in addition, nullifies specific legal protections for this targeted class in all transactions in housing, sale of real estate, insurance, health and welfare services, private education, and employment. See, e. g., Aspen Municipal Code §§13-98(b), (c) (1977); Boulder Rev. Code §§ 12-1-2, 12-1-3 (1987); Denver Rev. Municipal Code, Art. IV, §§28-93 to 28-95, 28-97 (1991).

Not confined to the private sphere, Amendment 2 also operates to repeal and forbid all laws or policies providing specific protection for gays or lesbians from discrimination by every level of Colorado government. The State Supreme Court cited two examples of protections in the governmental sphere that are now rescinded and may not be reintroduced. The first is Colorado Executive Order D0035 (1990), which forbids employment discrimination against “‘all state employees, classified and exempt’ on the basis of sexual orientation.” 854 R 2d, at 1284. Also repealed, and now forbid*630den, are “various provisions prohibiting discrimination based on sexual orientation at state colleges.” Id., at 1284, 1285. The repeal of these measures and the prohibition against their future reenactment demonstrate that Amendment 2 has the same force and effect in Colorado’s governmental sector as it does elsewhere and that it applies to policies as well as ordinary legislation.

Amendment 2’s reach may not be limited to specific laws passed for the benefit of gays and lesbians. It is a fair, if not necessary, inference from the broad language of the amendment that it deprives gays and lesbians even of the protection of general laws and policies that prohibit arbitrary discrimination in governmental and private settings. See, e. g., Colo. Rev. Stat. § 24-4-106(7) (1988) (agency action subject to judicial review under arbitrary and capricious standard); § 18-8-405 (making it a criminal offense for a public servant knowingly, arbitrarily, or capriciously to refrain from performing a duty imposed on him by law); § 10 — 3—1104(l)(f) (prohibiting “unfair discrimination” in insurance); 4 Colo. Code of Regulations 801-1, Policy 11-1 (1983) (prohibiting discrimination in state employment on grounds of specified traits or “other non-merit factor”). At some point in the systematic administration of these laws, an official must determine whether homosexuality is an arbitrary and, thus, forbidden basis for decision. Yet a decision to that effect would itself amount to a policy prohibiting discrimination on the basis of homosexuality, and so would appear to be no more valid under Amendment 2 than the specific prohibitions against discrimination the state court held invalid.

If this consequence follows from Amendment 2, as its broad language suggests, it would compound the constitutional difficulties the law creates. The state court did not decide whether the amendment has this effect, however, and neither need we. In the course of rejecting the argument that Amendment 2 is intended to conserve resources to fight discrimination against suspect classes, the Colorado Su*631preme Court made the limited observation that the amendment is not intended to affect many antidiscrimination laws protecting nonsuspect classes, Romer II, 882 P. 2d, at 1346, n. 9. In our view that does not resolve the issue. In any event, even if, as we doubt, homosexuals could find some safe harbor in laws of general application, we cannot accept the view that Amendment 2’s prohibition on specific legal protections does no more than deprive homosexuals of special rights. To the contrary, the amendment imposes a special disability upon those persons alone. Homosexuals are forbidden the safeguards that others enjoy or may seek without constraint. They can obtain specific protection against discrimination only by enlisting the citizenry of Colorado to amend the State Constitution or perhaps, on the State’s view, by trying to pass helpful laws of general applicability. This is so no matter how local or discrete the harm, no matter how public and widespread the injury. We find nothing special in the protections Amendment 2 withholds. These are protections taken for granted by most people either because they already have them or do not need them; these are protections against exclusion from an almost limitless number of transactions and endeavors that constitute ordinary civic life in a free society.

Ill

The Fourteenth Amendment’s promise that no person shall be denied the equal protection of the laws must coexist with the practical necessity that most legislation classifies for one purpose or another, with resulting disadvantage to various groups or persons. Personnel Administrator of Mass. v. Feeney, 442 U. S. 256, 271-272 (1979); F. S. Royster Guano Co. v. Virginia, 253 U. S. 412, 415 (1920). We have attempted to reconcile the principle with the reality by stating that, if a law neither burdens a fundamental right nor targets a suspect class, we will uphold the legislative classification so long as it bears a rational relation to some legitimate end. See, e. g., Heller v. Doe, 509 U. S. 312, 319-320 (1993).

*632Amendment 2 fails, indeed defies, even this conventional inquiry. First, the amendment has the peculiar property of imposing a broad and undifferentiated disability on a single named group, an exceptional and, as we shall explain, invalid form of legislation. Second, its sheer breadth is so discontinuous with the reasons offered for it that the amendment seems inexplicable by anything but animus toward the class it affects; it lacks a rational relationship to legitimate state interests.

Taking the first point, even in the ordinary equal protection case calling for the most deferential of standards, we insist on knowing the relation between the classification adopted and the object to be attained. The search for the link between classification and objective gives substance to the Equal Protection Clause; it provides guidance and discipline for the legislature, which is entitled to know what sorts of laws it can pass; and it marks the limits of our own authority. In the ordinary case, a law will be sustained if it can be said to advance a legitimate government interest, even if the law seems unwise or works to the disadvantage of a particular group, or if the rationale for it seems tenuous. See New Orleans v. Dukes, 427 U. S. 297 (1976) (tourism benefits justified classification favoring pushcart vendors of certain longevity); Williamson v. Lee Optical of Okla., Inc., 348 U. S. 483 (1955) (assumed health concerns justified law favoring optometrists over opticians); Railway Express Agency, Inc. v. New York, 336 U. S. 106 (1949) (potential traffic hazards justified exemption of vehicles advertising the owner’s products from general advertising ban); Kotch v. Board of River Port Pilot Comm’rs for Port of New Orleans, 330 U. S. 552 (1947) (licensing scheme that disfavored persons unrelated to current river boat pilots justified by possible efficiency and safety benefits of a closely knit pilotage system). The laws challenged in the cases just cited were narrow enough in scope and grounded in a sufficient factual context for us to *633ascertain some relation between the classification and the purpose it served. By requiring that the classification bear a rational relationship to an independent and legitimate legislative end, we ensure that classifications are not drawn for the purpose of disadvantaging the group burdened by the law. See Railroad Retirement Bd. v. Fritz, 449 U. S. 166, 181 (1980) (Stevens, J., concurring) (“If the adverse impact on the disfavored class is an apparent aim of the legislature, its impartiality would be suspect”).

Amendment 2 confounds this normal process of judicial review. It is at once too narrow and too broad. It identifies persons by a single trait and then denies them protection across the board. The resulting disqualification of a class of persons from the right to seek specific protection from the law is unprecedented in our jurisprudence. The absence of precedent for Amendment 2 is itself instructive; “[discrimi-nations of an unusual character especially suggest careful consideration to determine whether they are obnoxious to the constitutional provision.” Louisville Gas & Elec. Co. v. Coleman, 277 U. S. 32, 37-38 (1928).

It is not within our constitutional tradition to enact laws of this sort. Central both to the idea of the rule of law and to our own Constitution’s guarantee of equal protection is the principle that government and each of its parts remain open on impartial terms to all who seek its assistance. “ ‘Equal protection of the laws is not achieved through indiscriminate imposition of inequalities.’” Sweatt v. Painter, 339 U. S. 629, 635 (1950) (quoting Shelley v. Kraemer, 334 U. S. 1, 22 (1948)). Respect for this principle explains why laws singling out a certain class of citizens for disfavored legal status or general hardships are rare. A law declaring that in general it shall be more difficult for one group of citizens than for all others to seek aid from the government is itself a denial of equal protection of the laws in the most literal sense. “The guaranty of ‘equal protection of the laws *634is a pledge of the protection of equal laws.’” Skinner v. Oklahoma ex rel. Williamson, 316 U. S. 535, 541 (1942) (quoting Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U. S. 356, 369 (1886)).

Davis v. Beason, 133 U. S. 333 (1890), not cited by the parties but relied upon by the dissent, is not evidence that Amendment 2 is within our constitutional tradition, and any reliance upon it as authority for sustaining the amendment is misplaced. In Davis, the Court approved an Idaho territorial statute denying Mormons, polygamists, and advocates of polygamy the right to vote and to hold office because, as the Court construed the statute, it “simply excludes from the privilege of voting, or of holding any office of honor, trust or profit, those who have been convicted of certain offences, and those who advocate a practical resistance to the laws of the Territory and justify and approve the commission of crimes forbidden by it.” Id., at 347. To the extent Davis held that persons advocating a certain practice may be denied the right to vote, it is no longer good law. Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444 (1969) (per curiam). To the extent it held that the groups designated in the statute may be deprived of the right to vote because of their status, its ruling could not stand without surviving strict scrutiny, a most doubtful outcome. Dunn v. Blumstein, 405 U. S. 330, 337 (1972); cf. United States v. Brown, 381 U. S. 437 (1965); United States v. Robel, 389 U. S. 258 (1967). To the extent Davis held that a convicted felon may be denied the right to vote, its holding is not implicated by our decision and is unexceptionable. See Richardson v. Ramirez, 418 U. S. 24 (1974).

A second and related point is that laws of the kind now before us raise the inevitable inference that the disadvantage imposed is born of animosity toward the class of persons affected. “[I]f the constitutional conception of ‘equal protection of the laws’ means anything, it must at the very least mean that a bare . . . desire to harm a politically unpopular group cannot constitute a legitimate governmental interest.” Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S. 528, 534 *635(1973). Even laws enacted for broad and ambitious purposes often can be explained by reference to legitimate public policies which justify the incidental disadvantages they impose on certain persons. Amendment 2, however, in making a general announcement that gays and lesbians shall not have any particular protections from the law, inflicts on them immediate, continuing, and real injuries that outrun and belie any legitimate justifications that may be claimed for it. We conclude that, in addition to the far-reaching deficiencies of Amendment 2 that we have noted, the principles it offends, in another sense, are conventional and venerable; a law must bear a rational relationship to a legitimate governmental purpose, Kadrmas v. Dickinson Public Schools, 487 U. S. 450, 462 (1988), and Amendment 2 does not.

The primary rationale the State offers for Amendment 2 is respect for other citizens’ freedom of association, and in particular the liberties of landlords or employers who have personal or religious objections to homosexuality. Colorado also cites its interest in conserving resources to fight discrimination against other groups. The breadth of the amendment is so far removed from these particular justifications that we find it impossible to credit them. We cannot say that Amendment 2 is directed to any identifiable legitimate purpose or discrete objective. It is a status-based enactment divorced from any factual context from which we could discern a relationship to legitimate state interests; it is a classification of persons undertaken for its own sake, something the Equal Protection Clause does not permit. “[C]lass legislation . . . [is] obnoxious to the prohibitions of the Fourteenth Amendment. . . .” Civil Rights Cases, 109 U. S., at 24.

We must conclude that Amendment 2 classifies homosexuals not to further a proper legislative end but to make them unequal to everyone else. This Colorado cannot do. A State cannot so deem a class of persons a stranger to its laws. Amendment 2 violates the Equal Protection Clause, *636and the judgment of the Supreme Court of Colorado is affirmed.

It is so ordered.

Justice Scalia,

with whom The Chief Justice and Justice Thomas join, dissenting.

The Court has mistaken a Kulturkampf for a fit of spite. The constitutional amendment before us here is not the manifestation of a “ ‘bare ... desire to harm’ ” homosexuals, ante, at 634, but is rather a modest attempt by seemingly tolerant Coloradans to preserve traditional sexual mores against the efforts of a politically powerful minority to revise those mores through use of the laws. That objective, and the means chosen to achieve it, are not only unimpeachable under any constitutional doctrine hitherto pronounced (hence the opinion’s heavy reliance upon principles of righteousness rather than judicial holdings); they have been specifically approved by the Congress of the United States and by this Court.

In holding that homosexuality cannot be singled out for disfavorable treatment, the Court contradicts a decision, unchallenged here, pronounced only 10 years ago, see Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186 (1986), and places the prestige of this institution behind the proposition that opposition to homosexuality is as reprehensible as racial or religious bias. Whether it is or not is precisely the cultural debate that gave rise to the Colorado constitutional amendment (and to the preferential laws against which the amendment was directed). Since the Constitution of the United States says nothing about this subject, it is left to be resolved by normal democratic means, including the democratic adoption of provisions in state constitutions. This Court has no business imposing upon all Americans the resolution favored by the elite class from which the Members of this institution are selected, pronouncing that “animosity” toward homosexuality, ante, at 634, is evil. I vigorously dissent.

*637HH

Let me first discuss Part II of the Court s opinion, its longest section, which is devoted to rejecting the State’s arguments that Amendment 2 “puts gays and lesbians in the same position as all other persons,” and “does no more than deny homosexuals special rights,” ante, at 626. The Court concludes that this reading of Amendment 2’s language is “implausible” under the “authoritative construction” given Amendment 2 by the Supreme Court of Colorado. Ibid.

In reaching this conclusion, the Court considers it unnecessary to decide the validity of the State’s argument that Amendment 2 does not deprive homosexuals of the “protection [afforded by] general laws and policies that prohibit arbitrary discrimination in governmental and private settings.” Ante, at 630. I agree that we need not resolve that dispute, because the Supreme Court of Colorado has resolved it for us. In the case below, 882 P. 2d 1335 (1994), the Colorado court stated:

“[I]t is significant to note that Colorado law currently proscribes discrimination against persons who are not suspect classes, including discrimination based on age, §24-34-402(1)(a), 10A C. R. S. (1994 Supp.); marital or family status, § 24-34-502(1)(a), 10A C. R. S. (1994 Supp.); veterans’ status, §28-3-506, 11B C. R. S. (1989); and for any legal, off-duty conduct such as smoking tobacco, §24-34-402.5, 10A C. R. S. (1994 Supp.). Of course Amendment 2 is not intended to have any effect on this legislation, but seeks only to prevent the adoption of anti-discrimination laws intended to protect gays, lesbians, and bisexuals.” Id., at 1346, n. 9 (emphasis added).

The Court utterly fails to distinguish this portion of the Colorado court’s opinion. Colorado Rev. Stat. §24-34-402.5 (Supp. 1995), which this passage authoritatively declares not to be affected by Amendment 2, was respondents’ primary *638example of a generally applicable law whose protections would be unavailable to homosexuals under Amendment 2. See Brief for Respondents Evans et al. 11-12. The clear import of the Colorado court’s conclusion that it is not affected is that “general laws and policies that prohibit arbitrary discrimination” would continue to prohibit discrimination on the basis of homosexual conduct as well. This analysis, which is fully in accord with (indeed, follows inescapably from) the text of the constitutional provision, lays to rest such horribles, raised in the course of oral argument, as the prospect that assaults upon homosexuals could not be prosecuted. The amendment prohibits special treatment of homosexuals, and nothing more. It would not affect, for example, a requirement of state law that pensions be paid to all retiring state employees with a certain length of service; homosexual employees, as well as others, would be entitled to that benefit. But it would prevent the State or any municipality from making death-benefit payments to the “life partner” of a homosexual when it does not make such payments to the long-time roommate of a nonhomosexual employee. Or again, it does not affect the requirement of the State’s general insurance laws that customers be afforded coverage without discrimination unrelated to anticipated risk. Thus, homosexuals could not be denied coverage, or charged a greater premium, with respect to auto collision insurance; but neither the State nor any municipality could require that distinctive health insurance risks associated with homosexuality (if there are any) be ignored.

Despite all of its hand wringing about the potential effect of Amendment 2 on general antidiscrimination laws, the Court’s opinion ultimately does not dispute all this, but assumes it to be true. See ante, at 630. The only denial of equal treatment it contends homosexuals have suffered is this: They may not obtain preferential treatment without amending the State Constitution. That is to say, the principle underlying the Court’s opinion is that one who is ac*639corded equal treatment under the laws, but cannot as readily as others obtain 'preferential treatment under the laws, has been denied equal protection of the laws. If merely stating this alleged “equal protection” violation does not suffice to refute it, our constitutional jurisprudence has achieved terminal silliness.

The central thesis of the Court’s reasoning is that any group is denied equal protection when, to obtain advantage (or, presumably, to avoid disadvantage), it must have recourse to a more general and hence more difficult level of political decisionmaking than others. The world has never heard of such a principle, which is why the Court’s opinion is so long on emotive utterance and so short on relevant legal citation. And it seems to me most unlikely that any multilevel democracy can function under such a principle. For whenever a disadvantage is imposed, or conferral of a benefit is prohibited, at one of the higher levels of democratic deci-sionmaking (i. e., by the state legislature rather than local government, or by the people at large in the state constitution rather than the legislature), the affected group has (under this theory) been denied equal protection. To take the simplest of examples, consider a state law prohibiting the award of municipal contracts to relatives of mayors or city councilmen. Once such a law is passed, the group composed of such relatives must, in order to get the benefit of city contracts, persuade the state legislature — unlike all other citizens, who need only persuade the municipality. It is ridiculous to consider this a denial of equal protection, which is why the Court’s theory is unheard of.

The Court might reply that the example I have given is not a denial of equal protection only because the same “rational basis” (avoidance of corruption) which renders constitutional the substantive discrimination against relatives (i. e., the fact that they alone cannot obtain city contracts) also automatically suffices to sustain what might be called the electoral-procedural discrimination against them (i. e., *640the fact that they must go to the state level to get this changed). This is of course a perfectly reasonable response, and would explain why “electoral-procedural discrimination” has not hitherto been heard of: A law that is valid in its substance is automatically valid in its level of enactment. But the Court cannot afford to make this argument, for as I shall discuss next, there is no doubt of a rational basis for the substance of the prohibition at issue here. The Court’s entire novel theory rests upon the proposition that there is something special — something that cannot be justified by normal “rational basis” analysis — in making a disadvantaged group (or a nonpreferred group) resort to a higher decision-making level. That proposition finds no support in law or logic.

II

I turn next to whether there was a legitimate rational basis for the substance of the constitutional amendment — for the prohibition of special protection for homosexuals.1 It is unsurprising that the Court avoids discussion of this question, since the answer is so obviously yes. The case most relevant to the issue before us today is not even mentioned in the Court’s opinion: In Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U. S. 186 (1986), we held that the Constitution does not prohibit what virtually all States had done from the founding of the Republic until very recent years — making homosexual conduct a crime. That holding is unassailable, except by those who *641think that the Constitution changes to suit current fashions. But in any event it is a given in the present case: Respondents’ briefs did not urge overruling Bowers, and at oral argument respondents’ counsel expressly disavowed any intent to seek such overruling, Tr. of Oral Arg. 53. If it is constitutionally permissible for a State to make homosexual conduct criminal, surely it is constitutionally permissible for a State to enact other laws merely disfavoring homosexual conduct. (As the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit has aptly put it: “If the Court [in Bowers] was unwilling to object to state laws that criminalize the behavior that defines the class, it is hardly open ... to conclude that state sponsored discrimination against the class is invidious. After all, there can hardly be more palpable discrimination against a class than making the conduct that defines the class criminal.” Padula v. Webster, 822 F. 2d 97, 103 (1987).) And a fortiori it is constitutionally permissible for a State to adopt a provision not even disfavoring homosexual conduct, but merely prohibiting all levels of state government from bestowing special protections upon homosexual conduct. Respondents (who, unlike the Court, cannot afford the luxury of ignoring inconvenient precedent) counter Bowers with the argument that a greater-includes-the-lesser rationale cannot justify Amendment 2’s application to individuals who do not engage in homosexual acts, but are merely of homosexual “orientation.” Some Courts of Appeals have concluded that, with respect to laws of this sort at least, that is a distinction without a difference. See Equality Foundation of Greater Cincinnati, Inc. v. Cincinnati, 54 F. 3d 261, 267 (CA6 1995) (“[F]or purposes of these proceedings, it is virtually impossible to distinguish or separate individuals of a particular orientation which predisposes them toward a particular sexual conduct from those who actually engage in that particular type of sexual conduct”); Steffan v. Perry, 41 F. 3d 677, 689-690 (CADC 1994). The Supreme Court of Colorado itself appears to be of this view. See 882 P. 2d, at *6421349-1350 (“Amendment .2 targets this class of persons based on four characteristics: sexual orientation; conduct; practices, and relationships. Each characteristic provides a potentially different way of identifying that class of persons who are gay, lesbian, or bisexual. These four characteristics are not truly severable from one another because each provides nothing more than a different way of identifying the same class of persons”) (emphasis added).

But assuming that, in Amendment 2, a person of homosexual “orientation” is someone who does not engage in homosexual conduct but merely has a tendency or desire to do so, Bowers still suffices to establish a rational basis for the provision. If it is rational to criminalize the conduct, surely it is rational to deny special favor and protection to those with a self-avowed tendency or desire to engage in the conduct. Indeed, where criminal sanctions are not involved, homosexual “orientation” is an acceptable stand-in for homosexual conduct. A State “does not violate the Equal Protection Clause merely because the classifications made by its laws are imperfect,” Dandridge v. Williams, 397 U. S. 471, 485 (1970). Just as a policy barring the hiring of methadone users as transit employees does not violate equal protection simply because some methadone users pose no threat to passenger safety, see New York City Transit Authority v. Beazer, 440 U. S. 568 (1979), and just as a mandatory retirement age of 50 for police officers does not violate equal protection even though it prematurely ends the careers of many policemen over 50 who still have the capacity to do the job, see Massachusetts Bd. of Retirement v. Murgia, 427 U. S. 307 (1976) (per curiam), Amendment 2 is not constitutionally invalid simply because it could have been drawn more precisely so as to withdraw special antidiscrimination protections only from those of homosexual “orientation” who actually engage in homosexual conduct. As Justice Kennedy wrote, when he was on the Court of Appeals, in a case involving discharge of homosexuals from the Navy: “Nearly any *643statute which classifies people may be irrational as applied in particular cases. Discharge of the particular plaintiffs before us would be rational, under minimal scrutiny, not because their particular cases present the dangers which justify Navy policy, but instead because the general policy of discharging all homosexuals is rational.” Beller v. Middendorf, 632 F. 2d 788, 808-809, n. 20 (CA9 1980) (citation omitted). See also Ben-Shalom v. Marsh, 881 F. 2d 454, 464 (CA7 1989), cert. denied, 494 U. S. 1004 (1990).

Moreover, even if the provision regarding homosexual “orientation” were invalid, respondents’ challenge to Amendment 2 — which is a facial challenge — must fail. “A facial challenge to a legislative Act is, of course, the most difficult challenge to mount successfully, since the challenger must establish that no set of circumstances exists under which the Act would be valid.” United States v. Salerno, 481 U. S. 739, 745 (1987). It would not be enough for respondents to establish (if they could) that Amendment 2 is unconstitutional as applied to those of homosexual “orientation”; since, under Bowers, Amendment 2 is unquestionably constitutional as applied to those who engage in homosexual conduct, the facial challenge cannot succeed. Some individuals of homosexual “orientation” who do not engage in homosexual acts might successfully bring an as-applied challenge to Amendment 2, but so far as the record indicates, none of the respondents is such a person. See App. 4-5 (complaint describing each of the individual respondents as either “a gay man” or “a lesbian”).2

*644III

The foregoing suffices to establish what the Court’s failure to cite any case remotely in point would lead one to suspect: No principle set forth in the Constitution, nor even any imagined by this Court in the past 200 years, prohibits what Colorado has done here. But the case for Colorado is much stronger than that. What it has done is not only unprohib-ited, but eminently reasonable, with close, congressionally approved precedent in earlier constitutional practice.

First, as to its eminent reasonableness. The Court’s opinion contains grim, disapproving hints that Coloradans have been guilty of “animus” or “animosity” toward homosexuality, as though that has been established as un-American. Of course it is our moral heritage that one should not hate any human being or class of human beings. But I had thought that one could consider certain conduct reprehensible—murder, for example, or polygamy, or cruelty to animals—and could exhibit even “animus” toward such conduct. Surely that is the only sort of “animus” at issue here: moral disapproval of homosexual conduct, the same sort of moral disapproval that produced the centuries-old criminal laws that we held constitutional in Bowers. The Colorado amendment does not, to speak entirely precisely, prohibit giving favored status to people who are homosexuals; they can be favored for many reasons—for example, because they are senior citizens or members of racial minorities. But it prohibits giving them favored status because of their homosexual conduct—that is, it prohibits favored status for homosexuality.

But though Coloradans are, as I say, entitled to be hostile toward homosexual conduct, the fact is that the degree of hostility reflected by Amendment 2 is the smallest conceiv*645able. The Court’s portrayal of Coloradans as a society fallen victim to pointless, hate-filled “gay-bashing” is so false as to be comical. Colorado not only is one of the 25 States that have repealed their antisodomy laws, but was among the first to do so. See 1971 Colo. Sess. Laws, ch. 121, § 1. But the society that eliminates criminal punishment for homosexual acts does not necessarily abandon the view that homosexuality is morally wrong and socially harmful; often, abolition simply reflects the view that enforcement of such criminal laws involves unseemly intrusion into the intimate lives of citizens. Cf. Brief for Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, Inc., et al. as Amici Curiae in Bowers v. Hardwick, O. T. 1985, No. 85-140, p. 25, n. 21 (antisodomy statutes are “unenforceable by any but the most offensive snooping and wasteful allocation of law enforcement resources”); Kadish, The Crisis of Overcriminalization, 374 The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 157, 161 (1967) (“To obtain evidence [in sodomy cases], police are obliged to resort to behavior which tends to degrade and demean both themselves personally and law enforcement as an institution”).

There is a problem, however, which arises when criminal sanction of homosexuality is eliminated but moral and social disapprobation of homosexuality is meant to be retained. The Court cannot be unaware of that problem; it is evident in many cities of the country, and occasionally bubbles to the surface of the news, in heated political disputes over such matters as the introduction into local schools of books teaching that homosexuality is an optional and fully acceptable “alternative life style.” The problem (a problem, that is, for those who wish to retain social disapprobation of homosexuality) is that, because those who engage in homosexual conduct tend to reside in disproportionate numbers in certain communities, see Record, Exh. MMM, have high disposable income, see ibid.; App. 254 (affidavit of Prof. James Hunter), and, of course, care about homosexual-rights issues much *646more ardently than the public at large, they possess political power much greater than their numbers, both locally and statewide. Quite understandably, they devote this political power to achieving not merely a grudging social toleration, but full social acceptance, of homosexuality. See, e. g., Jacobs, The Rhetorical Construction of Rights: The Case of the Gay Rights Movement, 1969-1991, 72 Neb. L. Rev. 723, 724 (1993) (“[T]he task of gay rights proponents is to move the center of public discourse along a continuum from the rhetoric of disapprobation, to rhetoric of tolerance, and finally to affirmation”).

By the time Coloradans were asked to vote on Amendment 2, their exposure to homosexuals’ quest for social endorsement was not limited to newspaper accounts of happenings in places such as New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Key West. Three Colorado cities — Aspen, Boulder, and Denver — had enacted ordinances that listed “sexual orientation” as an impermissible ground for discrimination, equating the moral disapproval of homosexual conduct with racial and religious bigotry. See Aspen Municipal Code § 13-98 (1977); Boulder Rev. Municipal Code §§12-1-1 to 12-1-11 (1987); Denver Rev. Municipal Code, Art. IV, §§28-91 to 28-116 (1991). The phenomenon had even appeared statewide:. The Governor of Colorado had signed an executive order pronouncing that “in the State of Colorado we recognize the diversity in our pluralistic society and strive to bring an end to discrimination in any form,” and directing state agency-heads to “ensure non-discrimination” in hiring and promotion based on, among other things, “sexual orientation.” Executive Order No. D0035 (Dec. 10, 1990). I do not mean to be critical of these legislative successes; homosexuals are as entitled to use the legal system for reinforcement of their moral sentiments as is the rest of society. But they are subject to being countered by lawful, democratic countermeasures as well.

*647That is where Amendment 2 came in. It sought to counter both the geographic concentration and the disproportionate political power of homosexuals by (1) resolving the controversy at the statewide level, and (2) making the election a single-issue contest for both sides. It put directly, to all the citizens of the State, the question: Should homosexuality be given special protection? They answered no. The Court today asserts that this most democratic of procedures is unconstitutional. Lacking any cases to establish that facially absurd proposition, it simply asserts that it must be unconstitutional, because it has never happened before.

“[Amendment 2] identifies persons by a single trait and then denies them protection across the board. The resulting disqualification of a class of persons from the right to seek specific protection from the law is unprecedented in our jurisprudence. The absence of precedent for Amendment 2 is itself instructive ....

“It is not within our constitutional tradition to enact laws of this sort. Central both to the idea of the rule of law and to our own Constitution’s guarantee of equal protection is the principle that government and each of its parts remain open on impartial terms to all who seek its assistance.” Ante, at 633.

As I have noted above, this is proved false every time a state law prohibiting or disfavoring certain conduct is passed, because such a law prevents the adversely affected group— whether drug addicts, or smokers, or gun owners, or motorcyclists — from changing the policy thus established in “each of [the] parts” of the State. What the Court says is even demonstrably false at the constitutional level. The Eighteenth Amendment to the Federal Constitution, for example, deprived those who drank alcohol not only of the power to alter the policy of prohibition locally or through state legislation, but even of the power to alter it through state constitutional amendment or federal legislation. The *648Establishment Clause of the First Amendment prevents theocrats from having their way by converting their fellow citizens at the local, state, or federal statutory level; as does the Republican Form of Government Clause prevent monarchists.

But there is a much closer analogy, one that involves precisely the effort by the majority of citizens to preserve its view of sexual morality statewide, against the efforts of a geographically concentrated and politically powerful minority to undermine it. The Constitutions of the States of Arizona, Idaho, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Utah to this day contain provisions stating that polygamy is “forever prohibited.” See Ariz. Const., Art. XX, par. 2; Idaho Const., Art. I, §4; N. M. Const., Art. XXI, §1; Okla. Const., Art. I, §2; Utah Const., Art. Ill, § 1. Polygamists, and those who have a polygamous “orientation,” have been “singled out” by these provisions for much more severe treatment than merely denial of favored status; and that treatment can only be changed by achieving amendment of the state constitutions. The Court’s disposition today suggests that these provisions are unconstitutional, and that polygamy must be permitted in these States on a state-legislated, or perhaps even local-option, basis — unless, of course, polygamists for some reason have fewer constitutional rights than homosexuals.

The United States Congress, by the way, required the inclusion of these antipolygamy provisions in the Constitutions of Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Utah, as a condition of their admission to statehood. See Arizona Enabling Act, 36 Stat. 569; New Mexico Enabling Act, 36 Stat. 558; Oklahoma Enabling Act, 34 Stat. 269; Utah Enabling Act, 28 Stat. 108. (For Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, moreover, the Enabling Acts required that the antipolygamy provisions be “irrevocable without the consent of the United States and the people of said State” — so that not only were “each of [the] parts” of these States not “open on impartial terms” to polygamists, but even the States as a whole were not; *649polygamists would have to persuade the whole country to their way of thinking.) Idaho adopted the constitutional provision on its own, but the 51st Congress, which admitted Idaho into the Union, found its Constitution to be “republican in form and . . . in conformity with the Constitution of the United States.” Act of Admission of Idaho, 26 Stat. 215 (emphasis added). Thus, this “singling out” of the sexual practices of a single group for statewide, democratic vote — so utterly alien to our constitutional system, the Court would have us believe — has not only happened, but has received the explicit approval of the United States Congress.

I cannot say that this Court has explicitly approved any of these state constitutional provisions; but it has approved a territorial statutory provision that went even further, depriving polygamists of the ability even to achieve a constitutional amendment, by depriving them of the power to vote. In Davis v. Beason, 133 U. S. 333 (1890), Justice Field wrote for a unanimous Court:

“In our judgment, § 501 of the Revised Statutes of Idaho Territory, which provides that ‘no person . . . who is a bigamist or polygamist or who teaches, advises, counsels, or encourages any person or persons to become bigamists or polygamists, or to commit any other crime defined by law, or to enter into what is known as plural or celestial marriage, or who is a member of any order, organization or association which teaches, advises, counsels, or encourages its members or devotees or any other persons to commit the crime of bigamy or polygamy, or any other crime defined by law ... is permitted to vote at any election, or to hold any position or office of honor, trust, or profit within this Territory,’ is not open to any constitutional or legal objection.” Id., at 346-347 (emphasis added).

To the extent, if any, that this opinion permits the imposition of adverse consequences upon mere abstract advocacy of po*650lygamy, it has, of course, been overruled by later cases. See Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U. S. 444 (1969) (per curiam). But the proposition that polygamy can be criminalized, and those engaging in that crime deprived of the vote, remains good law. See Richardson v. Ramirez, 418 U. S. 24, 53 (1974). Beason rejected the argument that “such discrimination is a denial of the equal protection of the laws.” Brief for Appellant in Davis v. Beason, O. T. 1889, No. 1261, p. 41. Among the Justices joining in that rejection were the two whose views in other cases the Court today treats as equal protection lodestars — Justice Harlan, who was to proclaim in Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U. S. 537, 559 (1896) (dissenting opinion), that the Constitution “neither knows nor tolerates classes among citizens,” quoted ante, at 623, and Justice Bradley, who had earlier declared that “class legislation . . . [is] obnoxious to the prohibitions of the Fourteenth Amendment,” Civil Rights Cases, 109 U. S. 3, 24 (1883), quoted ante, at 635.3

*651This Court cited Beason with approval as recently as 1993, in an opinion authored by the same Justice who writes for the Court today. That opinion said: “[A]dverse impact will not always lead to a finding of impermissible targeting. For example, a social harm may have been a legitimate concern of government for reasons quite apart from discrimination. ... See, e. g.,... Davis v. Beason, 133 U. S. 333 (1890).” Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye, Inc. v. Hialeah, 508 U. S. 520, 535 (1993). It remains to be explained how § 501 of the Idaho Revised Statutes was not an “impermissible targeting” of polygamists, but (the much more mild) Amendment 2 is an “impermissible targeting” of homosexuals. Has the Court concluded that the perceived social harm of polygamy is a “legitimate concern of government,” and the perceived social harm of homosexuality is not?

<1

I strongly suspect that the answer to the last question is yes, which leads me to the last point I wish to make: The Court today, announcing that Amendment 2 “defies . . . conventional [constitutional] inquiry,” ante, at 632, and “confounds [the] normal process of judicial review,” ante, at 633, employs a constitutional theory heretofore unknown to frustrate Colorado’s reasonable effort to preserve traditional American moral values. The Court’s stern disapproval of “animosity” towards homosexuality might be compared with what an earlier Court (including the revered Justices Harlan and Bradley) said in Murphy v. Ramsey, 114 U. S. 15 (1885), rejecting a constitutional challenge to a United States statute that denied the franchise in federal territories to those who engaged in polygamous cohabitation:

“[C]ertainly no legislation can be supposed more wholesome and necessary in the founding of a free, self-*652governing commonwealth, fit to take rank as one of the co-ordinate States of the Union, than that which seeks to establish it on the basis of the idea of the family, as consisting in and springing from the union for life of one man and one woman in the holy estate of matrimony; the sure foundation of all that is stable and noble in our civilization; the best guaranty of that reverent morality which is the source of all beneficent progress in social and political improvement.” Id., at 45.

I would not myself indulge in such official praise for heterosexual monogamy, because I think it no business of the courts (as opposed to the political branches) to take sides in this culture war.

But the Court today has done so, not only by inventing a novel and extravagant constitutional doctrine to take the victory away from traditional forces, but even by verbally disparaging as bigotry adherence to traditional attitudes. To suggest, for example, that this constitutional amendment springs from nothing more than “ ‘a bare . . . desire to harm a politically unpopular group,’ ” ante, at 634, quoting Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S. 528, 534 (1973), is nothing short of insulting. (It is also nothing short of preposterous to call “politically unpopular” a group which enjoys enormous influence in American media and politics, and which, as the trial court here noted, though composing no more than 4% of the population had the support of 46% of the voters on Amendment 2, see App. to Pet. for Cert. C-18.)

When the Court takes sides in the culture wars, it tends to be with the knights rather than the villeins — and more specifically with the Templars, reflecting the views and values of the lawyer class from which the Court’s Members are drawn. How that class feels about homosexuality will be evident to anyone who wishes to interview job applicants at virtually any of the Nation’s law schools. The interviewer may refuse to offer a job because the applicant is a Republican; because he is an adulterer; because he went to the wrong *653prep school or belongs to the wrong country club; because he eats snails; because he is a womanizer; because she wears real-animal fur; or even because he hates the Chicago Cubs. But if the interviewer should wish not to be an associate or partner of an applicant because he disapproves of the applicant’s homosexuality, then he will have violated the pledge which the Association of American Law Schools requires all its member schools to exact from job interviewers: “assurance of the employer’s willingness” to hire homosexuals. Bylaws of the Association of American Law Schools, Inc. § 6-4(b); Executive Committee Regulations of the Association of American Law Schools § 6.19, in 1995 Handbook, Association of American Law Schools. This law-school view of what “prejudices” must be stamped out may be contrasted with the more plebeian attitudes that apparently still prevail in the United States Congress, which has been unresponsive to repeated attempts to extend to homosexuals the protections of federal civil rights laws, see, e. g., Employment Non-Discrimination Act of 1994, S. 2238, 103d Cong., 2d Sess. (1994); Civil Rights Amendments of 1975, H. R. 5452, 94th Cong., 1st Sess. (1975), and which took the pains to exclude them specifically from the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, see 42 U. S. C. § 12211(a) (1988 ed., Supp. V).

* * *

Today’s opinion has no foundation in American constitutional law, and barely pretends to. The people of Colorado have adopted an entirely reasonable provision which does not even disfavor homosexuals in any substantive sense, but merely denies them preferential treatment. Amendment 2 is designed to prevent piecemeal deterioration of the sexual morality favored by a majority of Coloradans, and is not only an appropriate means to that legitimate end, but a means that Americans have employed before. Striking it down is an act, not of judicial judgment, but of political will. I dissent.

*311Justice O’Connor

delivered the opinion of the Court.

This case requires us to decide whether the use of race as a factor in student admissions by the University of Michigan Law School (Law School) is unlawful.

*312A

The Law School ranks among the Nation’s top law schools. It receives more than 3,500 applications each year for a class *313of around 350 students. Seeking to “admit a group of students who individually and collectively are among the most capable,” the Law School looks for individuals with “sub*314stantial promise for success in law school” and “a strong likelihood of succeeding in the practice of law and contributing in diverse ways to the well-being of others.” App. 110. More broadly, the Law School seeks “a mix of students with varying backgrounds and experiences who will respect and learn from each other.” Ibid. In 1992, the dean of the Law School, charged a faculty committee with crafting a written admissions policy to implement these goals. In particular, the Law School sought to ensure that its efforts to achieve student body diversity complied with this Court’s most recent ruling on the use of race in university admissions. See Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265 (1978). *315Upon the unanimous adoption of the committee’s report by the Law School faculty, it became the Law School’s official admissions policy.

The hallmark of that policy is its focus on academic ability coupled with a flexible assessment of applicants’ talents, experiences, and potential “to contribute to the learning of those around them.” App. 111. The policy requires admissions officials to evaluate each applicant based on all the information available in the file, including a personal statement, letters of recommendation, and an essay describing the ways in which the applicant will contribute to the life and diversity of the Law School. Id., at 83-84,114-121. In reviewing an applicant’s file, admissions officials must consider the applicant’s undergraduate grade point average (GPA) and Law School Admission Test (LSAT) score because they are important (if imperfect) predictors of academic success in law school. Id., at 112. The policy stresses that “no applicant should be admitted unless we expect that applicant to do well enough to graduate with no serious academic problems.” Id., at 111.

The policy makes clear, however, that even the highest possible score does not guarantee admission to the Law School. Id., at 113. Nor does a low score automatically disqualify an applicant. Ibid. Rather, the policy requires admissions officials to look beyond grades and test scores to other criteria that are important to the Law School’s educational objectives. Id., at 114. So-called “‘soft’ variables” such as “the enthusiasm of reeommenders, the quality of the undergraduate institution, the quality of the applicant’s essay, and the areas and difficulty of undergraduate course selection” are all brought to bear in assessing an “applicant’s likely contributions to the intellectual and social life of the institution.” Ibid.

The policy aspires to “achieve that diversity which has the potential to enrich everyone’s education and thus make a law school class stronger than the sum of its parts.” Id., at 118. *316The policy does not restrict the types of diversity contributions eligible for “substantial weight” in the admissions process, but instead recognizes “many possible bases for diversity admissions.” Id., at 118,120. The policy does, however, reaffirm the Law School’s longstanding commitment to “one particular type of diversity,” that is, “racial and ethnic diversity with special reference to the inclusion of students from groups which have been historically discriminated against, like African-Americans, Hispanics and Native Americans, who without this commitment might not be represented in our student body in meaningful numbers.” Id., at 120. By enrolling a “ ‘critical mass’ of [underrepresented] minority students,” the Law School seeks to “ensur[e] their ability to make unique contributions to the character of the Law School.” Id., at 120-121.

The policy does not define diversity “solely in terms of racial and ethnic status.” Id., at 121. Nor is the policy “insensitive to the competition among all students for admission to the [L]aw [S]chool.” Ibid. Rather, the policy seeks to guide admissions officers in “producing classes both diverse and academically outstanding, classes made up of students who promise to continue the tradition of outstanding contribution by Michigan Graduates to the legal profession.” Ibid.

B

Petitioner Barbara Grutter is a white Michigan resident who applied to the Law School in 1996 with a 3.8 GPA and 161 LSAT score. The Law School initially placed petitioner on a waiting list, but subsequently rejected her application. In December 1997, petitioner filed suit in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Michigan against the Law School, the Regents of the University of Michigan, Lee Bollinger (Dean of the Law School from 1987 to 1994, and President of the University of Michigan from 1996 to 2002), Jeffrey Lehman (Dean of the Law School), and Dennis Shields (Director of Admissions at the Law School from 1991 *317until 1998). Petitioner alleged that respondents discriminated against her on the basis of race in violation of the Fourteenth Amendment; Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, 78 Stat. 252, 42 U. S. C. § 2000d; and Rev. Stat. § 1977, as amended, 42 U. S. C. § 1981.

Petitioner further alleged that her application was rejected because the Law School uses race as a “predominant” factor, giving applicants who belong to certain minority groups “a significantly greater chance of admission than students with similar credentials from disfavored racial groups.” App. 33-34. Petitioner also alleged that respondents “had no compelling interest to justify their use of race in the admissions process.” Id., at 34. Petitioner requested compensatory and punitive damages, an order requiring the Law School to offer her admission, and an injunction prohibiting the Law School from continuing to discriminate on the basis of race. Id., at 36. Petitioner clearly has standing to bring this lawsuit. Northeastern Fla. Chapter, Associated Gen. Contractors of America v. Jacksonville, 508 U. S. 656, 666 (1993).

The District Court granted petitioner’s motion for class certification and for bifurcation of the trial into liability and damages phases. The class was defined as “ ‘all persons who (A) applied for and were not granted admission to the University of Michigan Law School for the academic years since (and including) 1995 until the time that judgment is entered herein; and (B) were members of those racial or ethnic groups, including Caucasian, that Defendants treated less favorably in considering their applications for admission to the Law School.’” App. to Pet. for Cert. 191a-192a.

The District Court heard oral argument on the parties’ cross-motions for summary judgment on December 22,2000. Taking the motions under advisement, the District Court indicated that it would decide as a matter of law whether the Law School’s asserted interest in obtaining the educational benefits that flow from a diverse student body was compel*318ling. The District Court also indicated that it would conduct a bench trial on the extent to which race was a factor in the Law School’s admissions decisions, and whether the Law School’s consideration of race in admissions decisions constituted a race-based double standard.

During the 15-day bench trial, the parties introduced extensive evidence concerning the Law School’s use of race in the admissions process. Dennis Shields, Director of Admissions when petitioner applied to the Law School, testified that he did not direct his staff to admit a particular percentage or number of minority students, but rather to consider an applicant’s race along with all other factors. Id., at 206a. Shields testified that at the height of the admissions season, he would frequently consult the so-called “daily reports” that kept track of the racial and ethnic composition of the class (along with other information such as residency status and gender). Id., at 207a. This was done, Shields testified, to ensure that a critical mass of underrepresented minority students would be reached so as to realize the educational benefits of a diverse student body. Ibid. Shields stressed, however, that he did not seek to admit any particular number or percentage of underrepresented minority students. Ibid.

Erica Munzel, who succeeded Shields as Director of Admissions, testified that “ ‘critical mass’ ” means “ ‘meaningful numbers’” or “‘meaningful representation,’” which she understood to mean a number that encourages underrepresented minority students to participate in the classroom and not feel isolated. Id., at 208a-209a. Munzel stated there is no number, percentage, or range of numbers or percentages that constitute critical mass. Id., at 209a. Munzel also asserted that she must consider the race of applicants because a critical mass of underrepresented minority students could not be enrolled if admissions decisions were based primarily on undergraduate GPAs and LSAT scores. Ibid.

The current Dean of the Law School, Jeffrey Lehman, also testified. Like the other Law School witnesses, Lehman did *319not quantify critical mass in terms of numbers or percentages. Id., at 211a. He indicated that critical mass means numbers such that underrepresented minority students do not feel isolated or like spokespersons for their race. Ibid. When asked about the extent to which race is considered in admissions, Lehman testified that it varies from one applicant to another. Ibid. In some cases, according to Lehman’s testimony, an applicant’s race may play no role, while in others it may be a “ ‘determinative’ ” factor. Ibid.

The District Court heard extensive testimony from Professor Richard Lempert, who chaired the faculty committee that drafted the 1992 policy. Lempert emphasized that the Law School seeks students with diverse interests and backgrounds to enhance classroom discussion and the educational experience both inside and outside the classroom. Id., at 213a. When asked about the policy’s “ ‘commitment to racial and ethnic diversity with special reference to the inclusion of students from groups which have been historically discriminated against,’ ” Lempert explained that this language did not purport to remedy past discrimination, but rather to include students who may bring to the Law School a perspective different from that of members of groups Which have not been the victims of such discrimination. Ibid. Lemp-ert acknowledged that other groups, such as Asians and Jews, have experienced discrimination, but explained they were not mentioned in the policy because individuals who are members of those groups were already being admitted to the Law School in significant numbers. Ibid.

Kent Syverud was the final witness to testify about the Law School’s use of race in admissions decisions. Syverud was a professor at the Law School when the 1992 admissions policy was adopted and is now Dean of Vanderbilt Law School. In addition to his testimony at trial, Syverud submitted several expert reports on the educational benefits of diversity. Syverud’s testimony indicated that when a critical mass of underrepresented minority students is pres*320ent, racial stereotypes lose their force because nonminority students learn there is no “ ‘minority viewpoint’ ” but rather a variety of viewpoints among minority students. Id., at 215a.

In an attempt to quantify the extent to which the Law School actually considers race in making admissions decisions, the parties introduced voluminous evidence at trial. Relying on data obtained from the Law School, petitioner’s expert, Dr. Kinley Larntz, generated and analyzed “admissions grids” for the years in question (1995-2000). These grids show the number of applicants and the number of ad-mittees for all combinations of GPAs and LSAT scores. Dr. Larntz made “ ‘cell-by-cell’ ” comparisons between applicants of different races to determine whether a statistically significant relationship existed between race and admission rates. He concluded that membership in certain minority groups “‘is an extremely strong factor in the decision for acceptance,’ ” and that applicants from these minority groups ‘“are given an extremely large allowance for admission’” as compared to applicants who are members of nonfavored groups. Id., at 218a-220a. Dr. Larntz conceded, however, that race is not the predominant factor in the Law School’s admissions calculus. 12 Tr. 11-13 (Feb. 10, 2001).

Dr. Stephen Raudenbush, the Law School’s expert, focused on the predicted effect of eliminating race as a factor in the Law School’s admission process. In Dr. Raudenbush’s view, a race-blind admissions system would have a “‘very dramatic,’” negative effect on underrepresented minority admissions. App. to Pet. for Cert. 223a. He testified that in 2000, 35 percent of underrepresented minority applicants were admitted. Ibid. Dr. Raudenbush predicted that if race were not considered, only 10 percent of those applicants would have been admitted. Ibid. Under this scenario, underrepresented minority students would have constituted 4 percent of the entering class in 2000 instead of the actual figure of 14.5 percent. Ibid.

*321In the end, the District Court concluded that the Law School’s use of race as a factor in admissions decisions was unlawful. Applying strict scrutiny, the District Court determined that the Law School’s asserted interest in assembling a diverse student body was not compelling because “the attainment of a racially diverse class ... was not recognized as such by Bakke and it is not a remedy for past discrimination.” Id., at 246a. The District Court went on to hold that even if diversity were compelling, the Law School had not narrowly tailored its use of race to further that interest. The District Court granted petitioner’s request for declaratory relief and enjoined the Law School from using race as a factor in its admissions decisions. The Court of Appeals entered a stay of the injunction pending appeal.

Sitting en banc, the Court of Appeals reversed the District Court’s judgment and vacated the injunction. The Court of Appeals first held that Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke was binding precedent establishing diversity as a compelling state interest. According to the Court of Appeals, Justice Powell’s opinion with respect to diversity constituted the controlling rationale for the judgment of this Court under the analysis set forth in Marks v. United States, 430 U. S. 188 (1977). The Court of Appeals also held that the Law School’s use of race was narrowly tailored because race was merely a “potential ‘plus’ factor” and because the Law School’s program was “virtually identical” to the Harvard admissions program described approvingly by Justice Powell and appended to his Bakke opinion. 288 F. 3d 732, 746, 749 (CA6 2002).

Four dissenting judges would have held the Law School’s use of race unconstitutional. Three of the dissenters, rejecting the majority’s Marks analysis, examined the Law School’s interest in student body diversity on the merits and concluded it was not compelling. The fourth dissenter, writing separately, found it unnecessary to decide whether diversity was a compelling interest because, like the other dissent*322ers, he believed that the Law School’s use of race was not narrowly tailored to further that intérest.

We granted certiorari, 537 U. S. 1043 (2002), to resolve the disagreement among the Courts of Appeals on a question of national importance: Whether diversity is a compelling interest that can justify the narrowly tailored use of race in selecting applicants for admission to public universities. Compare Hopwood v. Texas, 78 F. 3d 932 (CA5 1996) (Hopwood I) (holding that diversity is not a compelling state interest), with Smith v. University of Wash. Law School , 233 F. 3d 1188 (CA9 2000) (holding that it is).

II

A

We last addressed the use of race in public higher education over 25 years ago. In the landmark Bakke case, we reviewed a racial set-aside program that reserved 16 out of 100 seats in a medical school class for members of certain minority groups. 438 U. S. 265 (1978). The decision produced six separate opinions, none of which commanded a majority of the Court. Four Justices would have upheld the program against all attack on the ground that the government can use race to “remedy disadvantages cast on minorities by past racial prejudice.” Id., at 325 (joint opinion of Brennan, White, Marshall, and Blackmun, JJ., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). Four other Justices avoided the constitutional question altogether and struck down the program on statutory grounds. Id., at 408 (opinion of Stevens, J., joined by Burger, C. J., and Stewart and Rehnquist, JJ., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). Justice Powell provided a fifth vote not only for invalidating the set-aside program, but also for reversing the state court’s injunction against any use of race whatsoever. The only holding for the Court in Bakke was that a “State has a substantial interest that legitimately may be served by a properly devised admissions program involv*323ing the competitive consideration of race and ethnic origin.” Id., at 320. Thus, we reversed that part of the lower court’s judgment that enjoined the university “from any consideration of the race of any applicant.” Ibid.

Since this Court’s splintered decision in Bakke, Justice Powell’s opinion announcing the judgment of the Court has served as the touchstone for constitutional analysis of race-conscious admissions policies. Public and private universities across the Nation have modeled their own admissions programs on Justice Powell’s views on permissible race-conscious policies. See, e. g., Brief for Judith Areen et al. as Amici Curiae 12-13 (law school admissions programs employ “methods designed from and based on Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke”); Brief for Amherst College et al. as Amici Curiae 27 (“After Bakke, each of the amici (and undoubtedly other selective colleges and universities as well) reviewed their admissions procedures in light of Justice Powell’s opinion ... and set sail accordingly”). We therefore discuss Justice Powell’s opinion in some detail.

Justice Powell began by stating that “[t]he guarantee of equal protection cannot mean one thing when applied to one individual and something else when applied to a person of another color. If both are not accorded the same protection, then it is not equal.” Bakke, 438 U. S., at 289-290. In Justice Powell’s view, when governmental decisions “touch upon an individual’s race or ethnic background, he is entitled to a judicial determination that the burden he is asked to bear on that basis is precisely tailored to serve a compelling governmental interest.” Id., at 299. Under this exacting standard, only one of the interests asserted by the university survived Justice Powell’s scrutiny.

First, Justice Powell rejected an interest in “ ‘reducing the historic deficit of traditionally disfavored minorities in medical schools and in the medical profession’” as an unlawful interest in racial balancing. Id., at 306-307. Second, Justice Powell rejected an interest in remedying societal dis*324crimination because such measures would risk placing unnecessary burdens on innocent third parties “who bear no responsibility for whatever harm the beneficiaries of the special admissions program are thought to have suffered.” Id., at 310. Third, Justice Powell rejected an interest in “increasing the number of physicians who will practice in communities currently underserved,” concluding that even if such an interest could be compelling in some circumstances the program under review was not “geared to promote that goal.” Id., at 306, 310.

Justice Powell approved the university’s use of race to further only one interest: “the attainment of a diverse student body.” Id., at 311. With the important proviso that “constitutional limitations protecting individual rights may not be disregarded,” Justice Powell grounded his analysis in the academic freedom that “long has been viewed as a special concern of the First Amendment.” Id., at 312, 314. Justice Powell emphasized that nothing less than the “ ‘nation’s future depends upon leaders trained through wide exposure’ to the ideas and mores of students as diverse as this Nation of many peoples.” Id., at 313 (quoting Keyishian v. Board of Regents of Univ. of State of N. Y., 385 U. S. 589, 603 (1967)). In seeking the “right to select those students who will contribute the most to the ‘robust exchange of ideas,’ ” a university seeks “to achieve a goal, that is of paramount importance in the fulfillment of its mission.” 438 U. S., at 313. Both “tradition and experience lend support to the view that the contribution of diversity is substantial.” Ibid.

Justice Powell was, however, carefiil to emphasize that in his view race “is only one element in a range of factors a university properly may consider in attaining the goal of a heterogeneous student body.” Id., at 314. For Justice Powell, “[i]t is not an interest in simple ethnic diversity, in which a specified percentage of the student body is in effect guaranteed to be members of selected ethnic groups,” that *325can justify the use of race. Id., at 315. Rather, “[t]he diversity that furthers a compelling state interest encompasses a far broader array of qualifications and characteristics of which racial or ethnic origin is but a single though important element.” Ibid.

In the wake of our fractured decision in Bakke, courts have struggled to discern whether Justice Powell’s diversity rationale, set forth in part of the opinion joined by no other Justice, is nonetheless binding precedent under Marks. In that case, we explained that “[w]hen a fragmented Court decides a case and no single rationale explaining the result enjoys the assent of five Justices, the holding of the Court may be viewed as that position taken by those Members who concurred in the judgments on the narrowest grounds.” 430 U. S., at 193 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). As the divergent opinions of the lower courts demonstrate, however, “[t]his test is more easily stated than applied to the various opinions supporting the result in [Bakke].” Nichols v. United States, 511 U. S. 738, 745-746 (1994). Compare, e. g., Johnson v. Board of Regents of Univ. of Ga., 263 F. 3d 1234 (CA11 2001) (Justice Powell’s diversity rationale was not the holding of the Court); Hopwood v. Texas, 236 F. 3d 256, 274-275 (CA5 2000) (Hopwood II) (same); Hop-wood I, 78 F. 3d 932 (CA5 1996) (same), with Smith v. University of Wash. Law School, 233 F. 3d, at 1199 (Justice Powell’s opinion, including the diversity rationale, is controlling under Marks).

We do not find it necessary to decide whether Justice Powell’s opinion is binding under Marks. It does not seem “useful to pursue the Marks inquiry to the utmost logical possibility when it has so obviously baffled and divided the lower courts that have considered it.” Nichols v. United States, supra, at 745-746. More important, for the reasons set out below, today we endorse Justice Powell’s view that student body diversity is a compelling state interest that can justify the use of race in university admissions.

*326B

The Equal Protection Clause provides that no State shall “deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” U. S. Const., Amdt. 14, §2. Because the Fourteenth Amendment “protects] persons, not groups,” all “governmental action based on race — a group classification long recognized as in most circumstances irrelevant and therefore prohibited — should be subjected to detailed judicial inquiry to ensure that the personal right to equal protection of the laws has not been infringed.” Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U. S. 200, 227 (1995) (emphasis in original; internal quotation marks and citation omitted). We are a “free people whose institutions are founded upon the doctrine of equality.” Loving v. Virginia, 388 U. S. 1, 11 (1967) (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). It follows from that principle that “government may treat people differently because of their race only for the most compelling reasons.” Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U. S., at 227.

We have held that all racial classifications imposed by government “must be analyzed by a reviewing court under strict scrutiny.” Ibid. This means that such classifications are constitutional only if they are narrowly tailored to further compelling governmental interests. “Absent searching judicial inquiry into the justification for such race-based measures,” we have no way to determine what “classifications are ‘benign’ or ‘remedial’ and what classifications are in fact motivated by illegitimate notions of racial inferiority or simple racial politics.” Richmond v. J. A. Croson Co., 488 U. S. 469, 493 (1989) (plurality opinion). We apply strict scrutiny to all racial classifications to “‘smoke out’ illegitimate uses of race by assuring that [government] is pursuing a goal important enough to warrant use of a highly suspect tool.” Ibid.

Strict scrutiny is not “strict in theory, but fatal in fact.” Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, supra, at 237 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). Although all gov*327ernmental uses of race are subject to strict scrutiny, not all are invalidated by it. As we have explained, “whenever the government treats any person unequally because of his or her race, that person has suffered an injury that falls squarely within the language and spirit of the Constitution’s guarantee of equal protection.” 515 U. S., at 229-230. But that observation “says nothing about the ultimate validity of any particular law; that determination is the job of the court applying strict scrutiny.” Id., at 230. When race-based action is necessary to further a compelling governmental interest, such action does not violate the constitutional guarantee of equal protection so long as the narrow-tailoring requirement is also satisfied.

Context matters when reviewing race-based governmental action under the Equal Protection Clause. See Gomillion v. Lightfoot, 364 U. S. 339, 343-344 (1960) (admonishing that, “in dealing with claims under broad provisions of the Constitution, which derive content by an interpretive process of inclusion and exclusion, it is imperative that generalizations, based on and qualified by the concrete situations that gave rise to them, must not be applied out of context in disregard of variant controlling facts”). In Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, we made clear that strict scrutiny must take “ ‘relevant differences’ into account.” 515 U. S., at 228. Indeed, as we explained, that is its “fundamental purpose.” Ibid. Not every decision influenced by race is equally objectionable, and strict scrutiny is designed to provide a framework for carefully examining the importance and the sincerity of the reasons advanced by the governmental deci-sionmaker for the use of race in that particular context.

III

A

With these principles in mind, we turn to the question whether the Law School’s use of race is justified by a compelling state interest. Before this Court, as they have *328throughout this litigation, respondents assert only one justification for their use of race in the admissions process: obtaining “the educational benefits that flow from a diverse student body.” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. i. In other words, the Law School asks us to recognize, in the context of higher education, a compelling state interest in student body diversity.

We first wish to dispel the notion that the Law School’s argument has been foreclosed, either expressly or implicitly, by our affirmative-action cases decided since Bakke. It is true that some language in those opinions might be read to suggest that remedying past discrimination is the only permissible justification for race-based governmental action. See, e. g., Richmond v. J A. Croson Co., supra, at 493 (plurality opinion) (stating that unless classifications based on race are “strictly reserved for remedial settings, they may in fact promote notions of racial inferiority and lead to a politics of racial hostility”). But we have never held that the only governmental use of race that can survive strict scrutiny is remedying past discrimination. Nor, since Bakke, have we directly addressed the use of race in the context of public higher education. Today, we hold that the Law School has a compelling interest in attaining a diverse student body.

The Law School’s educational judgment that such diversity is essential to its educational mission is one to which we defer. The Law School’s assessment that diversity will, in fact, yield educational benefits is substantiated by respondents and their amici. Our scrutiny of the interest asserted by the Law School is no less strict for taking into account complex educational judgments in an area that lies primarily within the expertise of the university. Our holding today is in keeping with our tradition of giving a degree of deference to a university’s academic decisions, within constitutionally prescribed limits. See Regents of Univ. of Mich. v. Ewing, 474 U. S. 214, 225 (1985); Board of Curators of Univ. of Mo. *329v. Horowitz, 435 U. S. 78, 96, n. 6 (1978); Bakke, 438 U. S., at 319, n. 53 (opinion of Powell, J.).

We have long recognized that, given the important purpose of public education and the expansive freedoms of speech and thought associated with the university environment, universities occupy a special niche in our constitutional tradition. See, e. g., Wieman v. Updegraff, 344 U. S. 183, 195 (1952) (Frankfurter, J., concurring); Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U. S. 234, 250 (1957); Shelton v. Tucker, 364 U. S. 479, 487 (1960); Keyishian v. Board of Regents of Univ. of State of N. Y., 385 U. S., at 603. In announcing the principle of student body diversity as a compelling state interest, Justice Powell invoked our cases recognizing a constitutional dimension, grounded in the First Amendment, of educational autonomy: “The freedom of a university to make its own judgments as to education includes the selection of its student body.” Bakke, supra, at 312. From this premise, Justice Powell reasoned that by claiming “the right to select those students who will contribute the most to the ‘robust exchange of ideas,’ ” a university “seek[s] to achieve a goal that is of paramount importance in the fulfillment of its mission.” 438 U. S., at 313 (quoting Keyishian v. Board of Regents of Univ. of State of N. Y., supra, at 603). Our conclusion that the Law School has a compelling interest in a diverse student body is informed by our view that attaining a diverse student body is at the heart of the Law School’s proper institutional mission, and that “good faith” on the part of a university is “presumed” absent “a showing to the contrary.” 438 U. S., at 318-319.

As part of its goal of “assembling a class that is both exceptionally academically qualified and broadly diverse,” the Law School seeks to “enroll a ‘critical mass’ of minority students.” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 13. The Law School’s interest is not simply “to assure within its student body some specified percentage of a particular group merely because of its race or ethnic origin.” Bakke, 438 U. S., at *330307 (opinion of Powell, J.). That would amount to outright racial balancing, which is patently unconstitutional. Ibid.; Freeman v. Pitts, 503 U. S. 467, 494 (1992) (“Racial balance is not to be achieved for its own sake”); Richmond v. J A. Croson Co., 488 U. S., at 507. Rather, the Law School's concept of critical mass is defined by reference to the educational benefits that diversity is designed to produce.

These benefits are substantial. As the District Court emphasized, the Law School’s admissions policy promotes “cross-racial understanding,” helps to break down racial stereotypes, and “enables [students] to better understand persons of different races.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 246a. These benefits are “important and laudable,” because “classroom discussion is livelier, more spirited, and simply more enlightening and interesting” when the students have “the greatest possible variety of backgrounds.” Id., at 246a, 244a.

The Law School’s claim of a compelling interest is further bolstered by its amici, who point to the educational benefits that flow from student body diversity. In addition to the expert studies and reports entered into evidence at trial, numerous studies show that student body diversity promotes learning outcomes, and “better prepares students for an increasingly diverse workforce and society, and better prepares them as professionals.” Brief for American Educational Research Association et al. as Amici Curiae 3; see, e.g., W. Bowen & D. Bok, The Shape of the River (1998); Diversity Challenged: Evidence on the Impact of Affirmative Action (G. Orfield & M. Kurlaender eds. 2001); Compelling Interest: Examining the Evidence on Racial Dynamics in Colleges and Universities (M. Chang, D. Witt, J. Jones, & K. Hakuta eds. 2003).

These benefits are not theoretical but real, as major American businesses have made clear that the skills needed in today’s increasingly global marketplace can only be developed through exposure to widely diverse people, cultures, ideas, and viewpoints. Brief for 3M et al. as Amici Curiae *3315; Brief for General Motors Corp. as Amicus Curiae 3-4. What is more, high-ranking retired officers and civilian leaders of the United States military assert that, “[biased on [their] decades of experience,” a “highly qualified, racially diverse officer corps ... is essential to the military’s ability to fulfill its principle mission to provide national security.” Brief for Julius W. Beeton, Jr., et al. as Amici Curiae 5. The primary sources for the Nation’s officer corps are the service academies and the Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC), the latter comprising students already admitted to participating colleges and universities. Ibid. At present, “the military cannot achieve an officer corps that is both highly qualified and racially diverse unless the service academies and the ROTC used limited race-conscious recruiting and admissions policies.” Ibid. (emphasis in original). To fulfill its mission, the military “must be selective in admissions for training and education for the officer corps, and it must train and educate a highly qualified, racially diverse officer corps in a racially diverse educational setting.” Id., at 29 (emphasis in original). We agree that “[i]t requires only a small step from this analysis to conclude that our country’s other most selective institutions must remain both diverse and selective.” Ibid.

We have repeatedly acknowledged the overriding impor-. tance of preparing students for work and citizenship, describing education as pivotal to “sustaining our political and cultural heritage” with a fundamental role in maintaining the fabric of society. Plyler v. Doe, 457 U. S. 202, 221 (1982). This Court has long recognized that “education ... is the very foundation of good citizenship.” Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483, 493 (1954). For this reason, the diffusion of knowledge and opportunity through public institutions of higher education must be accessible to all individuals regardless of race or ethnicity. The United States, as amicus curiae, affirms that “[e]nsuring that public institutions are open and available to all segments of American *332society, including people of all races and ethnicities, represents a paramount government objective.” Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 13. And, “[n]owhere is the importance of such openness more acute than in the context of higher education.” Ibid. Effective participation by members of all racial and ethnic groups in the civic life of our Nation is essential if the dream of one Nation, indivisible, is to be realized.

Moreover, universities, and in particular, law schools, represent the training ground for a large number of our Nation’s leaders. Sweatt v. Painter, 339 U. S. 629, 634 (1950) (describing law school as a “proving ground for legal learning and practice”). Individuals with law degrees occupy roughly half the state governorships, more than half the seats in the United States Senate, and more than a third of the seats in the United States House of Representatives. See Brief for Association of American Law Schools as Ami-cus Curiae 5-6. The pattern is even more striking when it comes to highly selective law schools. A handful of these schools accounts for 25 of the 100 United States Senators, 74 United States Courts of Appeals judges, and nearly 200 of the more than 600 United States District Court judges. Id., at 6.

In order to cultivate a set of leaders with legitimacy in the eyes of the citizenry, it is necessary that the path to leadership be visibly open to talented and qualified individuals of every race and ethnicity. All members of our heterogeneous society must have confidence in the openness and integrity of the educational institutions that provide this training. As we have recognized, law schools “cannot be effective in isolation from the individuals and institutions with which the law interacts.” See Sweatt v. Painter, supra, at 634. Access to legal education (and thus the legal profession) must be inclusive of talented and qualified individuals of every race and ethnicity, so that all members of our heterogeneous society *333may participate in the educational institutions that provide the training and education necessary to succeed in America.

The Law School does not premise its need for critical mass on “any belief that minority students always (or even consistently) express some characteristic minority viewpoint on any issue.” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 30. To the contrary, diminishing the force of such stereotypes is both a crucial part of the Law School’s mission, and one that it cannot accomplish with only token numbers of minority students. Just as growing up in a particular region or having particular professional experiences is likely to affect an individual’s views, so too is one’s own, unique experience of being a racial minority in a society, like our own, in which race unfortunately still matters. The Law School has determined, based on its experience and expertise, that a “critical mass” of underrepresented minorities is necessary to further its compelling interest in securing the educational benefits of a diverse student body.

B

Even in the limited circumstance when drawing racial distinctions is permissible to further a compelling state interest, government is still “constrained in how it may pursue that end: [T]he means chosen to accomplish the [government’s] asserted purpose must be specifically and narrowly framed to accomplish that purpose.” Shaw v. Hunt, 517 U. S. 899, 908 (1996) (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). The purpose of the narrow tailoring requirement is to ensure that “the means chosen ‘fit’ th[e] compelling goal so closely that there is little or no possibility that the motive for the classification was illegitimate racial prejudice or stereotype.” Richmond v. J. A. Croson Co., 488 U. S., at 493 (plurality opinion).

Since Bakke, we have had no occasion to define the contours of the narrow-tailoring inquiry with respect to race-conscious university admissions programs. That inquiry *334must be calibrated to fit the distinct issues raised by the use of race to achieve student body diversity in publie higher education. Contrary to Justice Kennedy’s assertions, we do not “abando[n] strict scrutiny,” see post, at 394 (dissenting opinion). Rather, as we have already explained, supra, at 327, we adhere to Adarand’s teaching that the very purpose of strict scrutiny is to take such “relevant differences into account.” 515 U. S., at 228 (internal quotation marks omitted).

To be narrowly tailored, a race-conscious admissions program cannot use a quota system — it cannot “insulat[e] each category of applicants with certain desired qualifications from competition with all other applicants.” Bakke, 438 U. S., at 315 (opinion of Powell, J.). Instead, a university may consider race or ethnicity only as a “ ‘plus’ in a particular applicant’s file,” without “insulat[ing] the individual from comparison with all other candidates for the available seats.” Id., at 317. In other words, an admissions program must be “flexible enough to consider all pertinent elements of diversity in light of the particular qualifications of each applicant, and to place them on the same footing for consideration, although not necessarily according them the same weight.” Ibid.

We find that the Law School’s admissions program bears the hallmarks of a narrowly tailored plan. As Justice Powell made clear in Bakke, truly individualized consideration demands that race be used in a flexible, nonmechanical way. It follows from this mandate that universities cannot establish quotas for members of certain racial groups or put members of those groups on separate admissions tracks. See id., at 315-316. Nor can universities insulate applicants who belong to certain racial or ethnic groups from the competition for admission. Ibid. Universities can, however, consider race or ethnicity more flexibly as a “plus” factor in the context of individualized consideration of each and every applicant. Ibid.

*335We are satisfied that the Law School’s admissions program, like the Harvard plan described by Justice Powell, does not operate as a quota. Properly understood, a “quota” is a program in which a certain fixed number or proportion of opportunities are “reserved exclusively for certain minority groups.” Richmond v. J. A. Croson Co., supra, at 496 (plurality opinion). Quotas “ ‘impose a fixed number or percentage which must be attained, or which cannot be exceeded,’ ” Sheet Metal Workers v. EEOC, 478 U. S. 421, 495 (1986) (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part), and “insulate the individual from comparison with all other candidates for the available seats,” Bakke, supra, at 317 (opinion of Powell, J.). In contrast, “a permissible goal. . . require[s] only a good-faith effort... to come within a range demarcated by the goal itself,” Sheet Metal Workers v. EEOC, supra, at 495, and permits consideration of race as a “plus” factor in any given case while still ensuring that each candidate “compete[s] with all other qualified applicants,” Johnson v. Transportation Agency, Santa Clara Cty., 480 U. S. 616, 638 (1987).

Justice Powell’s distinction between the medical school’s rigid 16-seat quota and Harvard’s flexible use of race as a “plus” factor is instructive. Harvard certainly had minimum goals for minority enrollment, even if it had no specific number firmly in mind. See Bakke, supra, at 323 (opinion of Powell, J.) (“10 or 20 black students could not begin to bring to their classmates and to each other the variety of points of view, backgrounds and experiences of blacks in the United States”). What is more, Justice Powell flatly rejected the argument that Harvard’s program was “the functional equivalent of a quota” merely because it had some “ ‘plus’ ” for race, or gave greater “weight” to race than to some other factors, in order to achieve student body diversity. 438 U. S., at 317-318.

The Law School's goal of attaining a critical mass of underrepresented minority students does not transform its pro*336gram into a quota. As the Harvard plan described by Justice Powell recognized, there is of course “some relationship between numbers and achieving the benefits to be derived from a diverse student body, and between numbers and providing a reasonable environment for those students admitted.” Id., at 323. “[S]ome attention to numbers,” without more, does not transform a flexible admissions system into a rigid quota. Ibid. Nor, as Justice Kennedy posits, does the Law School’s consultation of the “daily reports,” which keep track of the racial and ethnic composition of the class (as well as of residency and gender), “sugges[t] there was no further attempt at individual review save for race itself” during the final stages of the admissions process. See post, at 392 (dissenting opinion). To the contrary, the Law School’s admissions officers testified without contradiction that they never gave race any more or less weight based on the information contained in these reports. Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 43, n. 70 (citing App. in Nos. 01-1447 and 01-1516 (CA6), p. 7336). Moreover, as Justice Kennedy concedes, see post, at 390, between 1993 and 1998, the number of African-American, Latino, and Native-American students in each class at the Law School varied from 13.5 to 20.1 percent, a range inconsistent with a quota.

The Chief Justice believes that the Law School’s policy conceals an attempt to achieve racial balancing, and cites admissions data to contend that the Law School discriminates among different groups within the critical mass. Post, at 380-386 (dissenting opinion). But, as The Chief Justice concedes, the number of underrepresented minority students who ultimately enroll in the Law School differs substantially from their representation in the applicant pool and varies considerably for each group from year to year. See post, at 385 (dissenting opinion).

That a race-conscious admissions program does not operate as a quota does not, by itself, satisfy the requirement of individualized consideration. When using race as a “plus” *337factor in university admissions, a university’s admissions program must remain flexible enough to ensure that each applicant is evaluated as an individual and not in a way that makes an applicant’s race or ethnicity the defining feature of his or her application. The importance of this individualized consideration in the context of a race-conscious admissions program is paramount. See Bakke, 438 U. S., at 318, n. 52 (opinion of Powell, J.) (identifying the “denial ... of th[e] right to individualized consideration” as the “principal evil” of the medical school’s admissions program).

Here, the Law School engages in a highly individualized, holistic review of each applicant’s file, giving serious consideration to all the ways an applicant might contribute to a diverse educational environment. The Law School affords this individualized consideration to applicants of all races. There is no policy, either de jure or de facto, of automatic acceptance or rejection based on any single “soft” variable. Unlike the program at issue in Gratz v. Bollinger, ante, p. 244, the Law School awards no mechanical, predetermined diversity “bonuses” based on race or ethnicity. See ante, at 271-272 (distinguishing a race-conscious admissions program that automatically awards 20 points based on race from the Harvard plan, which considered race but “did not contemplate that any single characteristic automatically ensured a specific and identifiable contribution to a university’s diversity”). Like the Harvard plan, the Law School’s admissions policy “is flexible enough to consider all pertinent elements of diversity in light of the particular qualifications of each applicant, and to place them on the same footing for consideration, although not necessarily according them the same weight.” Bakke, supra, at 317 (opinion of Powell, J.).

We also find that, like the Harvard plan Justice Powell referenced in Bakke, the Law School’s race-conscious admissions program adequately ensures that all factors that may contribute to student body diversity are meaningfully considered alongside race in admissions decisions. With re*338spect to the use of race itself, all underrepresented minority students admitted by the Law School have been deemed qualified. By virtue of our Nation’s struggle with racial inequality, such students are both likely to have experiences of particular importance to the Law School’s mission, and less likely to be admitted in meaningful numbers on criteria that ignore those experiences. See App. 120.

The Law School does not, however, limit in any way the broad range of qualities and experiences that may be considered valuable contributions to student body diversity. To the contrary, the 1992 policy makes clear “[t]here are many possible bases for diversity admissions,” and provides examples of admittees who have lived or traveled widely abroad, are fluent in several languages, have overcome personal adversity and family hardship, have exceptional records of extensive community service, and have had successful careers in other fields. Id., at 118-119. The Law School seriously considers each “applicant’s promise of making a notable contribution to the class by way of a particular strength, attainment, or characteristic — e. g., an unusual intellectual achievement, employment experience, nonacademic performance, or personal background.” Id., at 83-84. All applicants have the opportunity to highlight their own potential diversity contributions through the submission of a personal statement, letters of recommendation, and an essay describing the ways in which the applicant will contribute to the life and diversity of the Law School.

What is more, the Law School actually gives substantial weight to diversity factors besides race. The Law School frequently accepts nonminority applicants with grades and test scores lower than underrepresented minority applicants (and other nonminority applicants) who are rejected. See Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 10; App. 121-122. This shows that the Law School seriously weighs many other diversity factors besides race that can make a real and disposi-tive difference for nonminority applicants as well. By this *339flexible approach, the Law School sufficiently takes into account, in practice as well as in theory, a wide variety of characteristics besides race and ethnicity that contribute to a diverse student body. Justice Kennedy speculates that “race is likely outcome determinative for many members of minority groups” who do not fall within the upper range of LSAT scores and grades. Post, at 389 (dissenting opinion). But the same could be said of the Harvard plan discussed approvingly by Justice Powell in Bakke, and indeed of any plan that uses race as one of many factors. See 438 U. S., at 316 (‘“When the Committee on Admissions reviews the large middle group of applicants who are “admissible” and deemed capable of doing good work in their courses, the race of an applicant may tip the balance in his favor’ ”).

Petitioner and the United States argue that the Law School’s plan is not narrowly tailored because race-neutral means exist to obtain the educational benefits of student body diversity that the Law School seeks. We disagree. Narrow tailoring does not require exhaustion of every conceivable race-neutral alternative. Nor does it require a university to choose between maintaining a reputation for excellence or fulfilling a commitment to provide educational opportunities to members of all racial groups. See Wygant v. Jackson Bd. of Ed., 476 U. S. 267, 280, n. 6 (1986) (alternatives must serve the interest “ ‘about as well’ ”); Richmond v. J. A. Croson Co., 488 U. S., at 509-510 (plurality opinion) (city had a “whole array of race-neutral” alternatives because changing requirements “would have [had] little detrimental effect on the city’s interests”). Narrow tailoring does, however, require serious, good faith consideration of workable race-neutral alternatives that will achieve the diversity the university seeks. See id., at 507 (set-aside plan not narrowly tailored where “there does not appear to have been any consideration of the use of race-neutral means”); Wygant v. Jackson Bd. of Ed., supra, at 280, n. 6 (narrow tailoring *340“require[s] consideration” of “lawful alternative and less restrictive means”).

We agree with the Court of Appeals that the Law School sufficiently considered workable race-neutral alternatives. The District Court took the Law School to task for failing to consider race-neutral alternatives such as “using a lottery system” or “decreasing the emphasis for all applicants on undergraduate GPA and LSAT scores.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 251a. But these alternatives would require a dramatic sacrifice of diversity, the academic quality of all admitted students, or both.

The Law School’s current admissions program considers race as one factor among many, in an effort to assemble a student body that is diverse in ways broader than race. Because a lottery would make that kind of nuanced judgment impossible, it would effectively sacrifice all other educational values, not to mention every other kind of diversity. So too with the suggestion that the Law School simply lower admissions standards for all students, a drastic remedy that would require the Law School to become a much different institution and sacrifice a vital component of its educational mission. The United States advocates “percentage plans,” recently adopted by public undergraduate institutions in Texas, Florida, and California, to guarantee admission to all students above a certain class-rank threshold in every high school in the State. Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 14-18. The United States does not, however, explain how such plans could work for graduate and professional schools. Moreover, even assuming such plans are race-neutral, they may preclude the university from conducting the individualized assessments necessary to assemble a student body that is not just racially diverse, but diverse along all the qualities valued by the university. We are satisfied that the Law School adequately considered race-neutral alternatives currently capable of producing a critical mass without forcing the Law School to abandon the academic selectivity that is the cornerstone of its educational mission.

*341We acknowledge that “there are serious problems of justice connected with the idea of preference itself.” Bakke, 438 U. S., at 298 (opinion of Powell, J.). Narrow tailoring, therefore, requires that a race-conscious admissions program not unduly harm members of any racial group. Even remedial race-based governmental action generally “remains subject to continuing oversight to assure that it will work the least harm possible to other innocent persons competing for the benefit.” Id., at 308. To be narrowly tailored, a race-conscious admissions program must not “unduly burden individuals who are not members of the favored racial and ethnic groups.” Metro Broadcasting, Inc. v. FCC, 497 U. S. 547, 630 (1990) (O’Connor, J., dissenting).

We are satisfied that the Law School’s admissions program does not. Because the Law School considers “all pertinent elements of diversity,” it can (and does) select nonminority applicants who have greater potential to enhance student body diversity over underrepresented minority applicants. See Bakke, supra, at 317 (opinion of Powell, J.). As Justice Powell recognized in Bakke, so long as a race-conscious admissions program uses race as a “plus” factor in the context of individualized consideration, a rejected applicant

“will not have been foreclosed from all consideration for that seat simply because he was not the right color or had the wrong surname. . . . His qualifications would have been weighed fairly and competitively, and he would have no basis to complain of unequal treatment under the Fourteenth Amendment.” 438 U. S., at 318.

We agree that, in the context of its individualized inquiry into the possible diversity contributions of all applicants, the Law School’s race-conscious admissions program does not unduly harm nonminority applicants.

We are mindful, however, that “[a] core purpose of the Fourteenth Amendment was to do away with all governmen-tally imposed discrimination based on race.” Palmore v. Si-*342doti, 466 U. S. 429, 432 (1984). Accordingly, race-conscious admissions policies must be limited in time. This requirement reflects that racial classifications, however compelling their goals, are potentially so dangerous that they may be employed no more broadly than the interest demands. Enshrining a permanent justification for racial preferences would offend this fundamental equal protection principle. We see no reason to exempt race-conscious admissions programs from the requirement that all governmental use of race must have a logical end point. The Law School, too, concedes that all “race-conscious programs must have reasonable durational limits.” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 32.

In the context of higher education, the durational requirement can be met by sunset provisions in race-conscious admissions policies and periodic reviews to determine whether racial preferences are still necessary to achieve student body diversity. Universities in California, Florida, and Washington State, where racial preferences in admissions are prohibited by state law, are currently engaged in experimenting with a wide variety of alternative approaches. Universities in other States can and should draw on the most promising aspects of these race-neutral alternatives as they develop. Cf. United States v. Lopez, 514 U. S. 549, 581 (1995) (Kennedy, J., concurring) (“[T]he States may perform their role as laboratories for experimentation to devise various solutions where the best solution is far from clear”).

The requirement that all race-conscious admissions programs have a termination point “assure[s] all citizens that the deviation from the norm of equal treatment of all racial and ethnic groups is a temporary matter, a measure taken in the service of the goal of equality itself.” Richmond v. J. A. Croson Co., 488 U. S., at 510 (plurality opinion); see also Na-thanson & Bartnik, The Constitutionality of Preferential Treatment for Minority Applicants to Professional Schools, *34358 Chicago Bar Rec. 282, 293 (May-June 1977) (“It would be a sad day indeed, were America to become a quota-ridden society, with each identifiable minority assigned proportional representation in every desirable walk of life. But that is not the rationale for programs of preferential treatment; the acid test of their justification will be their efficacy in eliminating the need for any racial or ethnic preferences at all”).

We take the Law School at its word that it would “like nothing better than to find a race-neutral admissions formula” and will terminate its race-conscious admissions program as soon as practicable. See Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 34; Bakke, supra, at 317-318 (opinion of Powell, J.) (presuming good faith of university officials in the absence of a showing to the contrary). It has been 25 years since Justice Powell first approved the use of race to further an interest in student body diversity in the context of public higher education. Since that time, the number of minority applicants with high grades and test scores has indeed increased. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 43. We expect that 25 years from now, the use of racial preferences will no longer be necessary to further the interest approved today.

IV

In summary, the Equal Protection Clause does not prohibit the Law School’s narrowly tailored use of race in admissions decisions to further a compelling interest in obtaining the educational benefits that flow from a diverse student body. Consequently, petitioner’s statutory claims based on Title VI and 42 U. S. C. § 1981 also fail. See Bakke, supra, at 287 (opinion of Powell, J.) (“Title VI . . . proscribe[s] only those racial classifications that would violate the Equal Protection Clause or the Fifth Amendment”); General Building Contractors Assn., Inc. v. Pennsylvania, 458 U. S. 375, 389-391 (1982) (the prohibition against discrimination in § 1981 is coextensive with the Equal Protection Clause). The judgment *344of the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit, accordingly, is affirmed.

It is so ordered.

Justice Ginsburg,

with whom Justice Breyer joins, concurring.

The Court’s observation that race-conscious programs “must have a logical end point,” ante, at 342, accords with the international understanding of the office of affirmative action. The International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, ratified by the United States in 1994, see State Dept., Treaties in Force 422-423 (June 1996), endorses “special and concrete measures to ensure the adequate development and protection of certain racial groups or individuals belonging to them, for the purpose of guaranteeing them the full and equal enjoyment of human rights and fundamental freedoms.” Annex to G. A. Res. 2106, 20 U. N. GAOR, 20th Sess., Res. Supp. (No. 14), p. 47, U. N. Doc. A/6014, Art. 2(2) (1965). But such measures, the Convention instructs, “shall in no case entail as a consequence the maintenance of unequal or separate rights for different racial groups after the objectives for which they were taken have been achieved.” Ibid.; see also Art. 1(4) (similarly providing for temporally limited affirmative action); Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, Annex to G. A. Res. 34/180, 34 U. N. GAOR, 34th Sess., Res. Supp. (No. 46), p. 194, U. N. Doc. A/34/46, Art. 4(1) (1979) (authorizing “temporary special measures aimed at accelerating de facto equality” that “shall be discontinued when the objectives of equality of opportunity and treatment have been achieved”).

The Court further observes that “[i]t has been 25 years since Justice Powell [in Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265 (1978)] first approved the use of race to further an interest in student body diversity in the context of public higher education.” Ante, at 343. For at least part of that *345time, however, the law could not fairly be described as “settled,” and in some regions of the Nation, overtly race-conscious admissions policies have been proscribed. See Hopwood v. Texas, 78 F. 3d 932 (CA5 1996); cf. Wessmann v. Gittens, 160 F. 3d 790 (CA1 1998); Tuttle v. Arlington Cty. School Bd., 195 F. 3d 698 (CA4 1999); Johnson v. Board of Regents of Univ. of Ga., 263 F. 3d 1234 (CA11 2001). Moreover, it was only 25 years before Bakke that this Court declared public school segregation unconstitutional, a declaration that, after prolonged resistance, yielded an end to a law-enforced racial caste system, itself the legacy of centuries of slavery. See Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483 (1954); cf. Cooper v. Aaron, 358 U. S. 1 (1958).

It is well documented that conscious and unconscious race bias, even rank discrimination based on race, remain alive in our land, impeding realization of our highest values and ideals. See, e. g., Gratz v. Bollinger, ante, at 298-301 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting); Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U.S. 200, 272-274 (1995) (Ginsburg, J., dissenting); Krieger, Civil Rights Perestroika: Intergroup Relations after Affirmative Action, 86 Calif. L. Rev. 1251, 1276-1291, 1303 (1998). As to public education, data for the years 2000-2001 show that 71.6% of African-American children and 76.3% of Hispanic children attended a school in which minorities made up a majority of the student body. See E. Fran-kenberg, C. Lee, & G. Orfield, A Multiracial Society with Segregated Schools: Are We Losing the Dream? p. 4 (Jan. 2003), http://www.civilrightsproject.harvard.edu/research/ reseg03/AreWeLosingtheDream.pdf (as visited June 16,2003, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file). And schools in predominantly minority communities lag far behind others measured by the educational resources available to them. See id., at 11; Brief for National Urban League et al. as Amici Curiae 11-12 (citing General Accounting Office, Per-Pupil Spending Differences Between Selected Inner City and Suburban Schools Varied by Metropolitan Area 17 (2002)).

*346However strong the public’s desire for improved education systems may be, see P. Hart & R. Teeter, A National Priority: Americans Speak on Teacher Quality 2, 11 (2002) (public opinion research conducted for Educational Testing Service); No Child Left Behind Act of 2001, Pub. L. 107-110,115 Stat. 1806, 20 U. S. C. § 7231 (2000 ed., Supp. I), it remains the current reality that many minority students encounter markedly inadequate and unequal educational opportunities. Despite these inequalities, some minority students are able to meet the high threshold requirements set for admission to the country’s finest undergraduate and graduate educational institutions. As lower school education in minority communities improves, an increase in the number of such students may be anticipated. From today’s vantage point, one may hope, but not firmly forecast, that over the next generation’s span, progress toward nondiscrimination and genuinely equal opportunity will make it safe to sunset affirmative action.*

Justice Scalia,

with whom Justice Thomas joins, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

I join the opinion of The Chief Justice. As he demonstrates, the University of Michigan Law School’s mystical *347“critical mass” justification for its discrimination by race challenges even the most gullible mind. The admissions statistics show it to be a sham to cover a scheme of racially proportionate admissions.

I also join Parts I through VII of Justice Thomas’s opinion.* I find particularly unanswerable his central point: that the allegedly “compelling state interest” at issue here is not the incremental “educational benefit” that emanates from the fabled “critical mass” of minority students, but rather Michigan’s interest in maintaining a “prestige” law school whose normal admissions standards disproportionately exclude blacks and other minorities. If that is a compelling state interest, everything is.

I add the following: The “educational benefit” that the University of Michigan seeks to achieve by racial discrimination consists, according to the Court, of “ ‘cross-racial understanding,’ ” ante, at 330, and “ ‘better preparation of] students for an increasingly diverse workforce and society,’ ” ibid., all of which is necessary not only for work, but also for good “citizenship,” ante, at 331. This is not, of course, an “educational benefit” on which students will be graded on their law school transcript (Works and Plays Well with Others: B+) or tested by the bar examiners (Q: Describe in 500 words or less your cross-racial understanding). For it is a lesson of life rather than law — essentially the same lesson taught to (or rather learned by, for it cannot be “taught” in the usual sense) people three feet shorter and 20 years younger than the full-grown adults at the University of Michigan Law School, in institutions ranging from Boy Scout troops to public-school kindergartens. If properly considered an “educational benefit” at all, it is surely not one that is either uniquely relevant to law school or uniquely “teachable” in a formal educational setting. And therefore: If it is appropriate for the Univer*348sity of Michigan Law School to use racial discrimination for the purpose of putting together a “critical mass” that will convey generic lessons in socialization and good citizenship, surely it is no less appropriate — indeed, particularly appropriate — for the civil service system of the State of Michigan to do so. There, also, those exposed to “critical masses” of certain races will presumably become better Americans, better Michiganders, better civil servants. And surely private employers cannot be criticized — indeed, should be praised— if they also “teach” good citizenship to their adult employees through a patriotic, all-American system of racial discrimination in hiring. The nonminority individuals who are deprived of a legal education, a civil service job, or any job at all by reason of their skin color will surely understand.

Unlike a clear constitutional holding that racial preferences in state educational institutions are impermissible, or even a clear anticonstitutional holding that racial preferences in state educational institutions are OK, today’s Grutter-Gratz split double header seems perversely designed to prolong the controversy and the litigation. Some future lawsuits will presumably focus on whether the discriminatory scheme in question contains enough evaluation of the applicant “as an individual,” ante, at 337, and sufficiently avoids “separate admissions tracks,” ante, at 334, to fall under Grutter rather than Gratz. Some will focus on whether a university has gone beyond the bounds of a “ ‘good-faith effort’ ” and has so zealously pursued its “critical mass” as to make it an unconstitutional de facto quota system, rather than merely ‘“a permissible goal.’” Ante, at 335 (quoting Sheet Metal Workers v. EEOC, 478 U. S. 421, 495 (1986) (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part)). Other lawsuits may focus on whether, in the particular setting at issue, any educational benefits flow from racial diversity. (That issue was not contested in Grutter; and while the opinion accords “a degree of deference to a university’s academic decisions,” ante, at 328, “deference does not imply *349abandonment or abdication of judicial review,” Miller-El v. Cockrell, 537 U. S. 322, 340 (2003).) Still other suits may challenge the bona fides of the institution’s expressed commitment to the educational benefits of diversity that immunize the discriminatory scheme in Grutter. (Tempting targets, one would suppose, will be those universities that talk the talk of multiculturalism and racial diversity in the courts but walk the walk of tribalism and racial segregation on their campuses — through minority-only student organizations, separate minority housing opportunities, separate minority student centers, even separate minority-only graduation ceremonies.) And still other suits may claim that the institution’s racial preferences have gone below or above the mystical Grutter-approved “critical mass.” Finally, litigation can be expected on behalf of minority groups intentionally short changed in the institution’s composition of its generic minority “critical mass.” I do not look forward to any of these cases. The Constitution proscribes government discrimination on the basis of race, and state-provided education is no exception.

Justice Thomas,

with whom Justice Scalia joins as to Parts I-VII, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

Frederick Douglass, speaking to a group of abolitionists almost 140 years ago, delivered a message lost on today’s majority:

“[I]n regard to the colored people, there is always more that is benevolent, I perceive, than just, manifested towards us. What I ask for the negro is not benevolence, not pity, not sympathy, but simply justice. The American people have always been anxious to know what they shall do with us. ... I have had but one answer from the beginning. Do nothing with us! Your doing with us has already played the mischief with us. Do nothing with us! If the apples will not remain on the tree of *350their own strength, if they are worm-eaten at the core, if they are early ripe and disposed to fall, let them fall! . . . And if the negro cannot stand on his own legs, let him fall also. All I ask is, give him a chance to stand on his own legs! Let him alone!... [Y]our interference is doing him positive injury.” What the Black Man Wants: An Address Delivered in Boston, Massachusetts, on 26 January 1865, reprinted in 4 The Frederick Douglass Papers 59, 68 (J. Blassingame & J. McKivigan eds. 1991) (emphasis in original).

Like Douglass, I believe blacks can achieve in every avenue of American life without the meddling of university administrators. Because I wish to see all students succeed whatever their color, I share, in some respect, the sympathies of those who sponsor the type of discrimination advanced by the University of Michigan Law School (Law School). The Constitution does not, however, tolerate institutional devotion to the status quo in admissions policies when such devotion ripens into racial discrimination. Nor does the Constitution countenance the unprecedented deference the Court gives to the Law School, an approach inconsistent with the very concept of “strict scrutiny.”

No one would argue that a university could set up a lower general admissions standard and then impose heightened requirements only on black applicants. Similarly, a university may not maintain a high admissions standard and grant exemptions to favored races. The Law School, of its own choosing, and for its own purposes, maintains an exclusionary admissions system that it knows produces racially disproportionate results. Racial discrimination is not a permissible solution to the self-inflicted wounds of this elitist admissions policy.

The majority upholds the Law School’s racial discrimination not by interpreting the people’s Constitution, but by responding to a faddish slogan of the cognoscenti. Nevertheless, I concur in part in the Court’s opinion. First, I agree with the Court insofar as its decision, which approves of only *351one racial classification, confirms that further use of race in admissions remains unlawful. Second, I agree with the Court’s holding that racial discrimination in higher education admissions will be illegal in 25 years. See ante, at 343 (stating that racial discrimination will no longer be narrowly tailored, or “necessary to further” a compelling state interest, in 25 years). I respectfully dissent from the remainder of the Court’s opinion and the judgment, however, because I believe that the Law School’s current use of race violates the Equal Protection Clause and that the Constitution means the same thing today as it will in 300 months.

I

The majority agrees that the Law School’s racial discrimination should be subjected to strict scrutiny. Ante, at 326. Before applying that standard to this case, I will briefly revisit the Court’s treatment of racial classifications.

The strict scrutiny standard that the Court purports to apply in this case was first enunciated in Korematsu v. United States, 323 U. S. 214 (1944). There the Court held that “[pressing public necessity may sometimes justify the existence of [racial discrimination]; racial antagonism never can.” Id., at 216. This standard of “pressing public necessity” has more frequently been termed “compelling governmental interest,”1 see, e. g., Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265, 299 (1978) (opinion of Powell, J.). A majority of the Court has validated only two circumstances where “pressing public necessity” or a “compelling state interest” can possibly justify racial discrimination by state actors. First, the lesson of Korematsu is that national security constitutes a “pressing public necessity,” though the government’s use of race to advance that objective must be narrowly tailored. Second, the Court has recognized as a compelling state interest a government’s effort to remedy *352past discrimination for which it is responsible. Richmond v. J A. Croson Co., 488 U. S. 469, 504 (1989).

The contours of “pressing public necessity” can be further discerned from those interests the Court has rejected as bases for racial discrimination. For example, Wygant v. Jackson Bd. of Ed., 476 U. S. 267 (1986), found unconstitutional a collective-bargaining agreement between a school board and a teachers’ union that favored certain minority races. The school board defended the policy on the grounds that minority teachers provided “role models” for minority students and that a racially “diverse” faculty would improve the education of all students. See Brief for Respondents, O. T. 1984, No. 84-1340, pp. 27-28; 476 U. S., at 315 (Stevens, J., dissenting) (“[A]n integrated faculty will be able to provide benefits to the student body that could not be provided by an all-white, or nearly all-white, faculty”). Nevertheless, the Court found that the use of race violated the Equal Protection Clause, deeming both asserted state interests insufficiently compelling. Id., at 275-276 (plurality opinion); id., at 295 (White, J., concurring in judgment) (“None of the interests asserted by the [school board]... justify this racially discriminatory layoff policy”).2

An even greater governmental interest involves the sensitive role of courts in child custody determinations. In Palmore v. Sidoti, 466 U. S. 429 (1984), the Court held that even the best interests of a child did not constitute a compelling state interest that would allow a state court to award custody to the father because the mother was in a mixed-race marriage. Id., at 433 (finding the interest “substantial” but *353holding the custody decision could not be based on the race of the mother’s new husband).

Finally, the Court has rejected an interest in remedying general societal discrimination as a justification for race discrimination. See Wygant, supra, at 276 (plurality opinion); Croson, 488 U. S., at 496-498 (plurality opinion); id., at 520-521 (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment). “Societal discrimination, without more, is too amorphous a basis for imposing a racially classified remedy” because a “court could uphold remedies that are ageless in their reach into the past, and timeless in their ability to affect the future.” Wygant, supra, at 276 (plurality opinion). But see Gratz v. Bollinger, ante, p. 298 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting).

Where the Court has accepted only national security, and rejected even the best interests of a child, as a justification for racial discrimination, I conclude that only those measures the State must take to provide a bulwark against anarchy, or to prevent violence, will constitute a “pressing public necessity.” Cf. Lee v. Washington, 390 U. S. 333, 334 (1968) (per curiam) (Black, J., concurring) (indicating that protecting prisoners from violence might justify narrowly tailored racial discrimination); Croson, supra, at 521 (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment) (“At least where state or local action is at issue, only a social emergency rising to the level of imminent danger to life and limb . . . can justify [racial discrimination]”).

The Constitution abhors classifications based on race, not only because those classifications can harm favored races or are based on illegitimate motives, but also because every time the government places citizens on racial registers and makes race relevant to the provision of burdens or benefits, it demeans us all. “Purchased at the price of immeasurable human suffering, the equal protection principle reflects our Nation’s understanding that such classifications ultimately have a destructive impact on the individual and our society.” *354Adarand, Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U. S. 200, 240 (1995) (Thomas, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment).

II

Unlike the majority, I seek to define with precision the interest being asserted by the Law School before determining whether that interest is so compelling as to justify racial discrimination. The Law School maintains that it wishes to obtain “educational benefits that flow from student body diversity,” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 14. This statement must be evaluated carefully, because it implies that both “diversity” and “educational benefits” are components of the Law School’s compelling state interest. Additionally, the Law School’s refusal to entertain certain changes in its admissions process and status indicates that the compelling state interest it seeks to validate is actually broader than might appear at first glance.

Undoubtedly there are other ways to “better” the education of law students aside from ensuring that the student body contains a “critical mass” of underrepresented minority students. Attaining “diversity,” whatever it means,3 is the *355mechanism by which the Law School obtains educational benefits, not an end of itself. The Law School, however, apparently believes that only a racially mixed student body can lead to the educational benefits it seeks. How, then, is the Law School’s interest in these allegedly unique educational “benefits” not simply the forbidden interest in “racial balancing,” ante, at 330, that the majority expressly rejects?

A distinction between these two ideas (unique educational benefits based on racial aesthetics and race for its own sake) is purely sophistic — so much so that the majority uses them interchangeably. Compare ante, at 328 (“[T]he Law School has a compelling interest in attaining a diverse student body”), with ante, at 333 (referring to the “compelling interest in securing the educational benefits of a diverse student body” (emphasis added)). The Law School’s argument, as facile as it is, can only be understood in one way: Classroom aesthetics yields educational benefits, racially discriminatory admissions policies are required to achieve the right racial mix, and therefore the policies are required to achieve the educational benefits. It is the educational benefits that are the end, or allegedly compelling state interest, not “diversity.” But see ante, at 332 (citing the need for “openness and integrity of the educational institutions that provide [legal] training” without reference to any consequential educational benefits).

One must also consider the Law School’s refusal to entertain changes to its current admissions system that might produce the same educational benefits. The Law School adamantly disclaims any race-neutral alternative that would reduce “academic selectivity,” which would in turn “require the Law School to become a very different institution, and to sacrifice a core part of its educational mission.” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 33-36. In other words, the Law School seeks to improve marginally the education it offers *356without sacrificing too much of its exclusivity and elite status.4

The proffered interest that the majority vindicates today, then, is not simply “diversity.” Instead the Court upholds the use of racial discrimination as a tool to advance the Law School’s interest in offering a marginally superior education while maintaining an elite institution. Unless each constituent part of this state interest is of pressing public necessity, the Law School’s use of race is unconstitutional. I find each of them to fall far short of this standard.

III

A

A close reading of the Court s opinion reveals that all of its legal work is done through one conclusory statement: The Law School has a “compelling interest in securing the educational benefits of a diverse student body.” Ante, at 33B. No serious effort is made to explain how these benefits fit with the state interests the Court has recognized (or rejected) as compelling, see Part I, supra, or to place any theoretical constraints on an enterprising court’s desire to discover still more justifications for racial discrimination. In the absence of any explanation, one might expect the Court to fall back on the judicial policy of stare decisis. But the Court eschews even this weak defense of its holding, shunning an analysis of the extent to which Justice Powell’s opinion in Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265 (1978), *357is binding, ante, at 325, in favor of an unfounded wholesale adoption of it.

Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke and the Court’s decision today rest on the fundamentally flawed proposition that racial discrimination can be contextualized so that a goal, such as classroom aesthetics, can be compelling in one context but not in another. This “we know it when we see it” approach to evaluating state interests is not capable of judicial application. Today, the Court insists on radically expanding the range of permissible uses of race to something as trivial (by comparison) as the assembling of a law school class. I can only presume that the majority’s failure to justify its decision by reference to any principle arises from the absence of any such principle. See Part VI, infra.

B

Under the proper standard, there is no pressing public necessity in maintaining a public law school at all and, it follows, certainly not an elite law school. Likewise, marginal improvements in legal education do not qualify as a compelling state interest.

1

While legal education at a public university may be good policy or otherwise laudable, it is obviously not a pressing public necessity when the correct legal standard is applied. Additionally, circumstantial evidence as to whether a state activity is of pressing public necessity can be obtained by asking whether all States feel compelled to engage in that activity. Evidence that States, in general, engage in a certain activity by no means demonstrates that the activity constitutes a pressing public necessity, given the expansive role of government in today’s society. The fact that some fraction of the States reject a particular enterprise, however, creates a presumption that the enterprise itself is not a compelling state interest. In this sense, the absence of a public, American Bar Association (ABA) accredited, law school in *358Alaska, Delaware, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island, see ABA-LSAC Official Guide to ABA-Approved Law Schools (W. Margolis, B. Gordon, J. Pus-karz, & D. Rosenlieb eds. 2004) (hereinafter ABA-LSAC Guide), provides further evidence that Michigan’s maintenance of the Law School does not constitute a compelling state interest.

2

As the foregoing makes clear, Michigan has no compelling interest in having a law school at all, much less an elite one. Still, even assuming that a State may, under appropriate circumstances, demonstrate a cognizable interest in having an elite law school, Michigan has failed to do so here.

This Court has limited the scope of equal protection review to interests and activities that occur within that State’s jurisdiction. The Court held in Missouri ex rel. Gaines v. Canada, 305 U. S. 337 (1938), that Missouri could not satisfy the demands of “separate but equal” by paying for legal training of blacks at neighboring state law schools, while maintaining a segregated law school within the State. The equal protection

“obligation is imposed by the Constitution upon the States severally as governmental entities, — each responsible for its own laws establishing the rights and duties of persons within its borders. It is an obligation the burden of which cannot be cast by one State upon another, and no State can be excused from performance by what another State may do or fail to do. That separate responsibility of each State within its own sphere is of the essence of statehood maintained under our dual system.” Id., at 350 (emphasis added).

The Equal Protection Clause, as interpreted by the Court in Gaines, does not permit States to justify racial discrimination on the basis of what the rest of the Nation “may do or fail to do.” The only interests that can satisfy the Equal *359Protection Clause’s demands are those found within a State’s jurisdiction.

The only cognizable state interests vindicated by operating a public law school are, therefore, the education of that State’s citizens and the training of that State’s lawyers. James Campbell’s address at the opening of the Law Department at the University of Michigan on October 3, 1859, makes this clear:

“It not only concerns the State that every one should have all reasonable facilities for preparing himself for any honest position in life to which he may aspire, but it also concerns the community that the Law should be taught and understood. . .. There is not an office in the State in which serious legal inquiries may not frequently arise.... In all these matters, public and private rights are constantly involved and discussed, and ignorance of the Law has frequently led to results deplorable and alarming.... [I]n the history of this State, in more than one instance, that ignorance has led to unlawful violence, and the shedding of innocent blood.” E. Brown, Legal Education at Michigan 1859-1959, pp. 404-406 (1959) (emphasis added).

The Law School today, however, does precious little training of those attorneys who will serve the citizens of Michigan. In 2002, graduates of the Law School made up less than 6% of applicants to the Michigan bar, Michigan Lawyers Weekly, available at http://www.michiganlawyersweekly.com/ barpassers0202.cfm,barpassers0702 .cfm (all Internet materials as visited June 13, 2003, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file), even though the Law School’s graduates constitute nearly 30% of all law students graduating in Michigan. Ibid. Less than 16% of the Law School’s graduating class elects to stay in Michigan after law school. ABA-LSAC Guide 427. Thus, while a mere 27% of the Law School’s 2002 entering class is from Michigan, see University of *360Michigan Law School Website, available at http://www.law. umich.edu/prospectivestudents/Admissions/index.htm, only half of these, it appears, will stay in Michigan.

In sum, the Law School trains few Michigan residents and overwhelmingly serves students, who, as lawyers, leave the State of Michigan. By contrast, Michigan’s other public law school, Wayne State University Law School, sends 88% of its graduates on to serve the people of Michigan. ABA-LSAC Guide 775. It does not take a social scientist to conclude that it is precisely the Law School’s status as an elite institution that causes it to be a waystation for the rest of the country’s lawyers, rather than a training ground for those who will remain in Michigan. The Law School’s decision to be an elite institution does little to advance the welfare of the people of Michigan or any cognizable interest of the State of Michigan.

Again, the fact that few States choose to maintain elite law schools raises a strong inference that there is nothing compelling about elite status. Arguably, only the public law schools of the University of Texas, the University of California, Berkeley (Boalt Hall), and the University of Virginia maintain the same reputation for excellence as the Law School.5 Two of these States, Texas and California, are so large that they could reasonably be expected to provide elite legal training at a separate law school to students who will, in fact, stay in the State and provide legal services to its citizens. And these two schools far outshine the Law School in producing in-state lawyers. The University of Texas, for example, sends over three-fourths of its graduates on to work in the State of Texas, vindicating the State’s interest (compelling or not) in training Texas’ lawyers. Id., at 691.

*3613

Finally, even if the Law School’s racial tinkering produces tangible educational benefits, a marginal improvement in legal education cannot justify racial discrimination where the Law School has no compelling interest either in its existence or in its current educational and admissions policies.

IV

The interest in remaining elite and exclusive that the majority thinks so obviously critical requires the use of admissions “standards” that, in turn, create the Law School’s “need” to discriminate on the basis of race. The Court validates these admissions standards by concluding that alternatives that would require “a dramatic sacrifice of . . . the academic quality of all admitted students,” ante, at 340, need not be considered before racial discrimination can be employed.6 In the majority’s view, such methods are not required by the “narrow tailoring” prong of strict scrutiny because that inquiry demands, in this context, that any race-neutral alternative work “'about as well.’” Ante, at 339 (quoting Wygant, 476 U. S., at 280, n. 6). The majority errs, however, because race-neutral alternatives must only be “workable,” ante, at 339, and do “about as well” in vindicating the compelling state interest. The Court never explicitly holds that the Law School’s desire to retain the status quo in “academic selectivity” is itself a compelling state interest, and, as I have demonstrated, it is not. See Part III-B, supra. Therefore, the Law School should be forced to choose between its classroom aesthetic and its exclusionary admissions system — it cannot have it both ways.

With the adoption of different admissions methods, such as accepting all students who meet minimum qualifications, *362see Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 13-14, the Law School could achieve its vision of the racially aesthetic student body without the use of racial discrimination. The Law School concedes this, but the Court holds, implicitly and under the guise of narrow tailoring, that the Law School has a compelling state interest in doing what it wants to do. I cannot agree. First, under strict scrutiny, the Law School’s assessment of the benefits of racial discrimination and devotion to the admissions status quo are not entitled to any sort of deference, grounded in the First Amendment or anywhere else. Second, even if its “academic selectivity” must be maintained at all costs along with racial discrimination, the Court ignores the fact that other top law schools have succeeded in meeting their aesthetic demands without racial discrimination.

A

The Court bases its unprecedented deference to the Law School — a deference antithetical to strict scrutiny — on an idea of “educational autonomy” grounded in the First Amendment. Ante, at 329. In my view, there is no basis for a right of public universities to do what would otherwise violate the Equal Protection Clause.

The constitutionalization of “academic freedom” began with the concurring opinion of Justice Frankfurter in Sweezy v. New Hampshire, 354 U. S. 234 (1957). Sweezy, a Marxist economist, was investigated by the Attorney General of New Hampshire on suspicion of being a subversive. The prosecution sought, inter alia, the contents of a lecture Sweezy had given at the University of New Hampshire. The Court held that the investigation violated due process. Id., at 254.

Justice Frankfurter went further, however, reasoning that the First Amendment created a right of academic freedom that prohibited the investigation. Id., at 256-267 (opinion concurring in result). Much of the rhetoric in Justice Frankfurter’s opinion was devoted to the personal right of Sweezy to free speech. See, e. g., id., at 265 (“For a citizen to be *363made to forego even a part of so basic a liberty as his political autonomy, the subordinating interest of the State must be compelling”). Still, claiming that the United States Reports "need not be burdened with proof,” Justice Frankfurter also asserted that a “free society” depends on “free universities” and “[t]his means the exclusion of governmental intervention in the intellectual life of a university.” Id., at 262. According to Justice Frankfurter: “It is the business of a university to provide that atmosphere which is most conducive to speculation, experiment and creation. It is an atmosphere in which there prevail ‘the four essential freedoms’ of a university — to determine for itself on academic grounds who may teach, what may be taught, how it shall be taught, and who may be admitted to study.” Id., at 263 (citation omitted).

In my view, “[i]t is the business” of this Court to explain itself when it cites provisions of the Constitution to invent new doctrines — including the idea that the First Amendment authorizes a public university to do what would otherwise violate the Equal Protection Clause. The majority fails in its summary effort to prove this point. The only source for the Court’s conclusion that public universities are entitled to deference even within the confines of strict scrutiny is Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke. Justice Powell, for his part, relied only on Justice Frankfurter’s opinion in Sweezy and the Court’s decision in Keyishian v. Board of Regents of Univ. of State of N. Y., 385 U. S. 589 (1967), to support his view that the First Amendment somehow protected a public university’s use of race in admissions. Bakke, 438 U. S., at 312. Keyishian provides no answer to the question whether the Fourteenth Amendment’s restrictions are relaxed when applied to public universities. In that case, the Court held that state statutes and regulations designed to prevent the “appointment or retention of ‘subversive’ persons in state employment,” 385 U. S., at 592, violated the First Amendment for vagueness. The statutes covered all public employees and were not invalidated only as applied to uni*364versity faculty members, although the Court appeared sympathetic to the notion of academic freedom, calling it a “special concern of the First Amendment.” Id., at 603. Again, however, the Court did not relax any independent constitutional restrictions on public universities.

I doubt that when Justice Frankfurter spoke of governmental intrusions into the independence of universities, he was thinking of the Constitution’s ban on racial discrimination. The majority’s broad deference to both the Law School’s judgment that racial aesthetics leads to educational benefits and its stubborn refusal to alter the status quo in admissions methods finds no basis in the Constitution or decisions of this Court.

B

1

The Court’s deference to the Law School’s conclusion that its racial experimentation leads to educational benefits will, if adhered to, have serious collateral consequences. The Court relies heavily on social science evidence to justify its .deference. See ante, at 330-332; but see also Rothman, Lipet, & Nevitte, Racial Diversity Reconsidered, 151 Public Interest 25 (2003) (finding that the racial mix of a student body produced by racial discrimination of the type practiced by the Law School in fact hinders students’ perception of academic quality). The Court never acknowledges, however, the growing evidence that racial (and other sorts) of heterogeneity actually impairs learning among black students. See, e. g., Flowers & Pascarella, Cognitive Effects of College Racial Composition on African American Students After 3 Years of College, 40 J. of College Student Development 669, 674 (1999) (concluding that black students experience superior cognitive development at Historically Black Colleges (HBCs) and that, even among blacks, “a substantial diversity moderates the cognitive effects of attending an HBC”); Allen, The Color of Success: African-American College Stu*365dent Outcomes at Predominantly White and Historically Black Public Colleges and Universities, 62 Harv. Edue. Rev. 26, 35 (1992) (finding that black students attending HBCs report higher academic achievement than those attending predominantly white colleges).

At oral argument in Gratz v. Bollinger, ante, p. 244, counsel for respondents stated that “most every single one of [the HBCs] do have diverse student bodies.” Tr. of Oral Arg. in No. 02-516, p. 52. What precisely counsel meant by “diverse” is indeterminate, but it is reported that in 2000 at Morehouse College, one of the most distinguished HBCs in the Nation, only 0.1% of the student body was white, and only 0.2% was Hispanic. College Admissions Data Handbook 2002-2003, p. 613 (43d ed. 2002) (hereinafter College Admissions Data Handbook). And at Mississippi Valley State University, a public HBC, only 1.1% of the freshman class in- 2001 was white. Id., at 603. If there is a “critical mass” of whites at these institutions, then “critical mass” is indeed a very small proportion.

The majority grants deference to the Law School’s “assessment that diversity will, in fact, yield educational benefits,” ante, at 328. It follows, therefore, that an HBC’s assessment that racial homogeneity will yield educational benefits would similarly be given deference.7 An HBC’s rejection of white applicants in order to maintain racial homogeneity seems permissible, therefore, under the majority’s view of the Equal Protection Clause. But see United States v. Fordice, 505 U. S. 717, 748 (1992) (Thomas, J., concurring) (“Obviously, a State cannot maintain . . . traditions by closing particular institutions, historically white or historically black, to particular racial groups”). Contained within today’s majority opinion is the seed of a new constitutional *366justification for a concept I thought long and rightly rejected — racial segregation.

2

Moreover one would think, in light of the Court’s decision in United States v. Virginia, 518 U. S. 515 (1996), that before being given license to use racial discrimination, the Law School would be required to radically reshape its admissions process, even to the point of sacrificing some elements of its character. In Virginia, a majority of the Court, without a word about academic freedom, accepted the all-male Virginia Military Institute’s (VMI) representation that some changes in its “adversative” method of education would be required with the admission of women, id., at 540, but did not defer to VMI’s judgment that these changes would be too great. Instead, the Court concluded that they were “manageable.” Id., at 551, n. 19. That case involved sex discrimination, which is subjected to intermediate, not strict, scrutiny. Id., at 533; Craig v. Boren, 429 U. S. 190, 197 (1976). So in Virginia, where the standard of review dictated that greater flexibility be granted to VMI’s educational policies than the Law School deserves here, this Court gave no deference. Apparently where the status quo being defended is that of the elite establishment — here the Law School — rather than a less fashionable Southern military institution, the Court will defer without serious inquiry and without regard to the applicable legal standard.

C

Virginia is also notable for the fact that the Court relied on the “experience” of formerly single-sex institutions, such as the service academies, to conclude that admission of women to VMI would be “manageable.” 518 U. S., at 544-545. Today, however, the majority ignores the “experience” of those institutions that have been forced to abandon explicit racial discrimination in admissions.

*367The sky has not fallen at Boalt Hall at the University of California, Berkeley, for example. Prior to Proposition 209’s adoption of Cal. Const., Art. 1, § 31(a), which bars the State from “granting] preferential treatment ... on the basis of race ... in the operation of... public education,”8 Boalt Hall enrolled 20 blacks and 28 Hispanics in its first-year class for 1996. In 2002, without deploying express racial discrimination in admissions, Boalt’s entering class enrolled 14 blacks and 36 Hispanics.9 University of California Law and Medical School Enrollments, available at http://www.ucop.edu/ acadadv/datamgmt/lawmed/law-enrolls-eth2.html. Total underrepresented minority student enrollment at Boalt Hall now exceeds 1996 levels. Apparently the Law School cannot be counted on to be as resourceful. The Court is willfully blind to the very real experience in California and elsewhere, which raises the inference that institutions with “reputation[s] for excellence,” ante, at 339, rivaling the Law School’s have satisfied their sense of mission without resorting to prohibited racial discrimination.

V

Putting aside the absence of any legal support for the majority’s reflexive deference, there is much to be said for the view that the use of tests and other measures to “predict” academic performance is a poor substitute for a system that gives every applicant a chance to prove he can succeed in the study of law. The rallying cry that in the absence of racial discrimination in admissions there would be a true *368meritocracy ignores the fact that the entire process is poisoned by numerous exceptions to “merit.” For example, in the national debate on racial discrimination in higher education admissions, much has been made of the fact that elite institutions utilize a so-called “legacy” preference to give the children of alumni an advantage in admissions. This, and other, exceptions to a “true” meritocracy give the lie to protestations that merit admissions are in fact the order of the day at the Nation’s universities. The Equal Protection Clause does not, however, prohibit the use of unseemly legacy preferences or many other kinds of arbitrary admissions procedures. What the Equal Protection Clause does prohibit are classifications made on the basis of race. So while legacy preferences can stand under the Constitution, racial discrimination cannot.10 I will not twist the Constitution to invalidate legacy preferences or otherwise impose my vision of higher education admissions on the Nation. The majority should similarly stay its impulse to validate faddish racial discrimination the Constitution clearly forbids.

In any event, there is nothing ancient, honorable, or constitutionally protected about “selective” admissions. The University of Michigan should be well aware that alternative methods have historically been used for the admission of students, for it brought to this country the German certificate system in the late-19th century. See H. Wechsler, The Qualified Student 16-39 (1977) (hereinafter Qualified Student). Under this system, a secondary school was certified by a university so that any graduate who completed the course offered by the school was offered admission to the university. The certification regime supplemented, and later virtually replaced (at least in the Midwest), the prior regime of rigor*369ous subject-matter entrance examinations. Id., at 57-58. The facially race-neutral “percent plans” now used in Texas, California, and Florida, see ante, at 340, are in many ways the descendents of the certificate system.

Certification was replaced by selective admissions in the beginning of the 20th century, as universities sought to exercise more control over the composition of their student bodies. Since its inception, selective admissions has been the vehicle for racial, ethnic, and religious tinkering and experimentation by university administrators. The initial driving force for the relocation of the selective function from the high school to the universities was the same desire to select racial winners and losers that the Law School exhibits today. Columbia, Harvard, and others infamously determined that they had “too many” Jews, just as today the Law School argues it would have “too many” whites if it could not discriminate in its admissions process. See Qualified Student 155-168 (Columbia); H. Broun & G. Britt, Christians Only: A Study in Prejudice 53-54 (1931) (Harvard).

Columbia employed intelligence tests precisely because Jewish applicants, who were predominantly immigrants, scored worse on such tests. Thus, Columbia could claim (falsely) that “‘[w]e have not eliminated boys because they were Jews and do not propose to do so. We have honestly attempted to eliminate the lowest grade of applicant [through the use of intelligence testing] and it turns out that a good many of the low grade men are New York City Jews.’ ” Letter from Herbert E. Hawkes, dean of Columbia College, to E. B. Wilson, June 16,1922 (reprinted in Qualified Student 160-161). In other words, the tests were adopted with full knowledge of their disparate impact. Cf. DeFunis v. Odegaard, 416 U. S. 312, 335 (1974) (per curiam) (Douglas, J., dissenting).

Similarly no modern law school can claim ignorance of the poor performance of blacks, relatively speaking, on the Law School Admission Test (LSAT). Nevertheless, law schools *370continue to use the test and then attempt to “correct” for black underperformance by using racial discrimination in admissions so as to obtain their aesthetic student body. The Law School’s continued adherence to measures it knows produce racially skewed results is not entitled to deference by this Court. See Part IV, supra. The Law School itself admits that the test is imperfect, as it must, given that it regularly admits students who score at or below 150 (the national median) on the test. See App. 156-203 (showing that, between 1995 and 2000, the Law School admitted 37 students — 27 of whom were black; 31 of whom were “underrepresented minorities” — with LSAT scores of 150 or lower). And the Law School’s amici cannot seem to agree on the fundamental question whether the test itself is useful. Compare Brief for Law School Admission Council as Amicus Curiae 12 (“LSAT scores . . . are an effective predictor of students’ performance in law school”) with Brief for Harvard Black Law Students Association et al. as Amici Curiae 27 (“Whether [the LSAT] measure[s] objective merit... is certainly questionable”).

Having decided to use the LSAT, the Law School must accept the constitutional burdens that come with this decision. The Law School may freely continue to employ the LSAT and other allegedly merit-based standards in whatever fashion it likes. What the Equal Protection Clause forbids, but the Court today allows, is the use of these standards hand-in-hand with racial discrimination. An infinite variety of admissions methods are available to the Law School. Considering all of the radical thinking that has historically occurred at this country’s universities, the Law School’s intractable approach toward admissions is striking.

The Court will not even deign to make the Law School try other methods, however, preferring instead to grant a 25-year license to violate the Constitution. And the same Court that had the courage to order the desegregation of all public schools in the South now fears, on the basis of plati*371tudes rather than principle, to force the Law School to abandon a decidedly imperfect admissions regime that provides the basis for racial discrimination.

VI

The absence of any articulated legal principle supporting the majority’s principal holding suggests another rationale. I believe what lies beneath the Court’s decision today are the benighted notions that one can tell when racial discrimination benefits (rather than hurts) minority groups, see Adarand, 515 U. S., at 239 (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment), and that racial discrimination is necessary to remedy general societal ills. This Court’s precedents supposedly settled both issues, but clearly the majority still cannot commit to the principle that racial classifications are per se harmful and that almost no amount of benefit in the eye of the beholder can justify such classifications.

Putting aside what I take to be the Court’s implicit rejection of Adarand’s holding that beneficial and burdensome racial classifications are equally invalid, I must contest the notion that the Law School’s discrimination benefits those admitted as a result of it. The Court spends considerable time discussing the impressive display of amicus support for the Law School in this case from all corners of society. Ante, at 330-331. But nowhere in any of the filings in this Court is any evidence that the purported “beneficiaries” of this racial discrimination prove themselves by performing at (or even near) the same level as those students who receive no preferences. Cf. Thernstrom & Thernstrom, Reflections on the Shape of the River, 46 UCLA L. Rev. 1583, 1605-1608 (1999) (discussing the failure of defenders of racial discrimination in admissions to consider the fact that its “beneficiaries” are underperforming in the classroom).

The silence in this case is deafening to those of us who view higher education’s purpose as imparting knowledge and skills to students, rather than a communal, rubber-stamp, *372credentialing process. The Law School is not looking for those students who, despite a lower LSAT score or undergraduate grade point average, will succeed in the study of law. The Law School seeks only a facade — it is sufficient that the class looks right, even if it does not perform right.

The Law School tantalizes unprepared students with the promise of a University of Michigan degree and all of the opportunities that it offers. These overmatched students take the bait, only to find that they cannot succeed in the cauldron of competition. And this mismatch crisis is not restricted to elite institutions. See T. Sowell, Race and Culture 176-177 (1994) (“Even if most minority students are able to meet the normal standards at the ‘average’ range of colleges and universities, the systematic mismatching of minority students begun at the top can mean that such students are generally overmatched throughout all levels of higher education”). Indeed, to cover the tracks of the aestheticists, this cruel farce of racial discrimination must continue— in selection for the Michigan Law Review, see University of Michigan Law School Student Handbook 2002-2003, pp. 39-40 (noting the presence of a “diversity plan” for admission to the review), and in hiring at law firms and for judicial clerkships — until the “beneficiaries” are no longer tolerated. While these students may graduate with law degrees, there is no evidence that they have received a qualitatively better legal education (or become better lawyers) than if they had gone to a less “elite” law school for which they were better prepared. And the aestheticists will never address the real problems facing “underrepresented minorities,” 11 instead continuing their social experiments on other people’s children.

*373Beyond the harm the Law School’s racial discrimination visits, upon its test subjects, no social science has disproved the notion that this discrimination “engenders] attitudes of superiority or, alternatively, provoke[s] resentment among those who believe that they have been wronged by the government’s use of race.” Adarand, 515 U. S., at 241 (Thomas, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). “These programs stamp minorities with a badge of inferiority and may cause them to develop dependencies or to adopt an attitude that they are ‘entitled’ to preferences.” Ibid.

It is uncontested that each year, the Law School admits a handful of blacks who would be admitted in the absence of racial discrimination. See Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 6. Who can differentiate between those who belong and those who do not? The majority of blacks are admitted to the Law School because of discrimination, and because of this policy all are tarred as undeserving. This problem of stigma does not depend on determinacy as to whether those stigmatized are actually the “beneficiaries” of racial discrimination. When blacks take positions in the highest places of government, industry, or academia, it is an open question today whether their skin color played a part in their advancement. The question itself is the stigma — because either racial discrimination did play a role, in which case the person may be deemed “otherwise unqualified,” or it did not, in which case asking the question itself unfairly marks those blacks who would succeed without discrimination. Is this what the Court means by “visibly open”? Ante, at 332.

Finally, the Court’s disturbing reference to the importance of the country’s law schools as training grounds meant to cultivate “a set of leaders with legitimacy in the eyes of the citizenry,” ibid., through the use of racial discrimination deserves discussion. As noted earlier, the Court has soundly *374rejected the remedying of societal discrimination as a justification for governmental use of race. Wygant, 476 U. S., at 276 (plurality opinion); Croson, 488 U. S., at 497 (plurality opinion); id., at 520-521 (Scalia, J., concurring in judgment). For those who believe that every racial disproportionality in our society is caused by some kind of racial discrimination, there can be no distinction between remedying societal discrimination and erasing racial disproportionalities in the country’s leadership caste. And if the lack of proportional racial representation among our leaders is not caused by societal discrimination, then “fixing” it is even less of a pressing public necessity.

The Court’s civics lesson presents yet another example of judicial selection of a theory of political representation based on skin color — an endeavor I have previously rejected. See Holder v. Hall, 512 U. S. 874, 899 (1994) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment). The majority appears to believe that broader utopian goals justify the Law School’s use of race, but “[t]he Equal Protection Clause commands the elimination of racial barriers, not their creation in order to satisfy our theory as to how society ought to be organized.” DeFunis, 416 U. S., at 342 (Douglas, J., dissenting).

VII

As the foregoing makes clear, I believe the Court’s opinion to be, in most respects, erroneous. I do, however, find two points on which I agree.

A

First, I note that the issue of unconstitutional racial discrimination among the groups the Law School prefers is not presented in this case, because petitioner has never argued that the Law School engages in such a practice, and the Law School maintains that it does not. See Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 32, n. 50, and 6-7, n. 7. I join the Court’s opinion insofar as it confirms that this type of racial discrimination remains unlawful. Ante, at 326-327. Under today’s *375decision, it is still the case that racial discrimination that does not help a university to enroll an unspecified number, or “critical mass,” of underrepresented minority students is unconstitutional. Thus, the Law School may not discriminate in 'admissions between similarly situated blacks and Hispanics, or between whites and Asians. This is so because preferring black to Hispanic applicants, for instance, does nothing to further the interest recognized by the majority today.12 Indeed, the majority describes such racial balancing as “patently unconstitutional.” Ante, at 330. Like the Court, ante, at 336, I express no opinion as to whether the Law School’s current admissions program runs afoul of this prohibition.

B

The Court also holds that racial discrimination in admissions should be given another 25 years before it is deemed no longer narrowly tailored to the Law School’s fabricated compelling state interest. Ante, at 343. While I agree that in 25 years the practices of the Law School will be illegal, they are, for the reasons I have given, illegal now. The majority does not and cannot rest its time limitation on any evidence that the gap in credentials between black and white *376students is shrinking or will be gone in that timeframe.13 In recent years there has been virtually no change, for example, in the proportion of law school applicants with LSAT scores of 165 and higher who are black.14 In 1993 blacks constituted 1.1% of law school applicants in that score range, though they represented 11.1% of all applicants. Law School Admission Council, National Statistical Report (1994) (hereinafter LSAC Statistical Report). In 2000 the comparable numbers were 1.0% and 11.3%. LSAC Statistical Report (2001). No one can seriously contend, and the Court does not, that the racial gap in academic credentials will disappear in 25 years. Nor is the Court’s holding that racial discrimination will be unconstitutional in 25 years made contingent on the gap closing in that time.15

*377Indeed, the very existence of racial discrimination of the type practiced by the Law School may impede the narrowing of the LSAT testing gap. An applicant’s LSAT score can improve dramatically with preparation, but such preparation is a cost, and there must be sufficient benefits attached to an improved score to justify additional study. Whites scoring between 163 and 167 on the LSAT are routinely rejected by the Law School, and thus whites aspiring to admission at the Law School have every incentive to improve their score to levels above that range. See App. 199 (showing that in 2000, 209 out of 422 white applicants were rejected in this scoring range). Blacks, on the other hand, are nearly guaranteed admission if they score above 155. Id., at 198 (showing that 63 out of 77 black applicants are accepted with LSAT scores above 155). As admission prospects approach certainty, there is no incentive for the black applicant to continue to prepare for the LSAT once he is reasonably assured of achieving the requisite score. It is far from certain that the LSAT test-taker’s behavior is responsive to the Law School’s admissions policies.16 Nevertheless, the possibility remains that this racial discrimination will help fulfill the bigot’s prophecy about black underperformance — just as it confirms the conspiracy theorist’s belief that “institutional racism” is at fault for every racial disparity in our society.

I therefore can understand the imposition of a 25-year time limit only as a holding that the deference the Court pays to the Law School’s educational judgments and refusal to change its admissions policies will itself expire. At that point these policies will clearly have failed to “ ‘eliminate] *378the [perceived] need for any racial or ethnic’ ” discrimination because the academic credentials gap will still be there. Ante, at 343 (quoting Nathanson & Bartnik, The Constitutionality of Preferential Treatment for Minority Applicants to Professional Schools, 58 Chicago Bar Rec. 282, 293 (May-June 1977)). The Court defines this time limit in terms of narrow tailoring, see ante, at 343, but I believe this arises from its refusal to define rigorously the broad state interest vindicated today. Cf. Part II, supra. With these observations, I join the last sentence of Part III of the opinion of the Court.

* * *

For the immediate future, however, the majority has placed its imprimatur on a practice that can only weaken the principle of equality embodied in the Declaration of Independence and the Equal Protection Clause. “Our Constitution is color-blind, and neither knows nor tolerates classes among citizens.” Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U. S. 537, 559 (1896) (Harlan, J., dissenting). It has been nearly 140 years since Frederick Douglass asked the intellectual ancestors of the Law School to “[d]o nothing with us!” and the Nation adopted the Fourteenth Amendment. Now we must wait another 25 years to see this principle of equality vindicated. I therefore respectfully dissent from the remainder of the Court’s opinion and the judgment.

Chief Justice Rehnquist,

with whom Justice Scalia, Justice Kennedy, and Justice Thomas join, dissenting.

I agree with the Court that, “in the limited circumstance when drawing racial distinctions is permissible,” the government must ensure that its means are narrowly tailored to achieve a compelling state interest. Ante, at 333; see also Fullilove v. Klutznick, 448 U. S. 448, 498 (1980) (Powell, J., concurring) (“[E]ven if the government proffers a compelling interest to support reliance upon a suspect classification, the means selected must be narrowly drawn to fulfill the govern*379mental purpose”). I do not believe, however, that the University of Michigan Law School’s (Law School) means are narrowly tailored to the interest it asserts. The Law School claims it must take the steps it does to achieve a “ ‘critical mass’” of underrepresented minority students. Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 13. But its actual program bears no relation to this asserted goal. Stripped of its “critical mass” veil, the Law School’s program is revealed as a naked effort to achieve racial balancing.

As we have explained many times, ‘““[a]ny preference based on racial or ethnic criteria must necessarily receive a most searching examination.’”” Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U. S. 200, 223 (1995) (quoting Wygant v. Jackson Bd. of Ed., 476 U. S. 267, 273 (1986) (plurality opinion of Powell, J.)). Our eases establish that, in order to withstand this demanding inquiry, respondents must demonstrate that their methods of using race “‘fit’” a compelling state interest “with greater precision than any alternative means.” Id., at 280, n. 6; Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265, 299 (1978) (opinion of Powell, J.) (“When [political judgments] touch upon an individual’s race or ethnic background, he is entitled to a judicial determination that the burden he is asked to bear on that basis is precisely tailored to serve a compelling governmental interest”).

Before the Court’s decision today, we consistently applied the same strict scrutiny analysis regardless of the government’s purported reason for using race and regardless of the setting in which race was being used. We rejected calls to use more lenient review in the face of claims that race was being used in “good faith” because “ ‘[m]ore than good motives should be required when government seeks to allocate its resources by way of an explicit racial classification system.’” Adarand, supra, at 226; Fullilove, supra, at 537 (Stevens, J., dissenting) (“Racial classifications are simply too pernicious to permit any but the most exact connection between justification and classification”). We likewise re*380jected calls to apply more lenient review based on the particular setting in which race is being used. Indeed, even in the specific context of higher education, we emphasized that “constitutional limitations protecting individual rights may not be disregarded.” Bakke, supra, at 314.

Although the Court recites the language of our strict scrutiny analysis, its application of that review is unprecedented in its deference.

Respondents’ asserted justification for the Law School’s use of race in the admissions process is “obtaining ‘the educational benefits that flow from a diverse student body.’” Ante, at 328 (quoting Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. i). They contend that a “critical mass” of underrepresented minorities is necessary to further that interest. Ante, at 330. Respondents and school administrators explain generally that “critical mass” means a sufficient number of underrepresented minority students to achieve several objectives: To ensure that these minority students do not feel isolated or like spokespersons for their race; to provide adequate opportunities for the type of interaction upon which the educational benefits of diversity depend; and to challenge all students to think critically and reexamine stereotypes. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 211a; Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 26. These objectives indicate that “critical mass” relates to the size of the student body. Id., at 5 (claiming that the Law School has enrolled “critical mass,” or “enough minority students to provide meaningful integration of its classrooms and residence halls”). Respondents further claim that the Law School is achieving “critical mass.” Id., at 4 (noting that the Law School’s goals have been “greatly furthered by the presence of... a ‘critical mass’ of” minority students in the student body).

In practice, the Law School’s program bears little or no relation to its asserted goal of achieving “critical mass.” Respondents explain that the Law School seeks to accumulate a “critical mass” of each underrepresented minority *381group. See, e. g., id., at 49, n. 79 (“The Law School’s . . . current policy ... provide[s] a special commitment to enrolling a ‘critical mass’ of ‘Hispanics’ ”). But the record demonstrates that the Law School’s admissions practices with respect to these groups differ dramatically and cannot be defended under any consistent use of the term “critical mass.”

From 1995 through 2000, the Law School admitted between 1,130 and 1,310 students. Of those, between 13 and 19 were Native American, between 91 and 108 were African-American, and between 47 and 56 were Hispanic. If the Law School is admitting between 91 and 108 African-Americans in order to achieve “critical mass,” thereby preventing African-American students from feeling “isolated or like spokespersons for their race,” one would think that a number of the same order of magnitude would be necessary to accomplish the same purpose for Hispanics and Native Americans. Similarly, even if all of the Native American applicants admitted in a given year matriculate, which the record demonstrates is not at all the case,* how can this possibly constitute a “critical mass” of Native Americans in a class of over 350 students? In order for this pattern of admission to be consistent with the Law School’s explanation of “critical mass,” one would have to believe that the objectives of “critical mass” offered by respondents are achieved with only half the number of Hispanics. and one-sixth the number of Native Americans as compared to African-Americans. But respondents offer no race-specific reasons for such disparities. Instead, they simply emphasize the importance of achieving “critical mass,” without any explanation of why that concept is applied differently among the three underrepresented minority groups.

*382These different numbers, moreover, come only as a result of substantially different treatment among the three underrepresented minority groups, as is apparent in an example offered by the Law School and highlighted by the Court: The school asserts that it “frequently accepts nonminority applicants with grades and test scores lower than underrepresented minority applicants (and other nonminority applicants) who are rejected.” Ante, at 338 (citing Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 10). Specifically, the Law School states that “[s]ixty-nine minority applicants were rejected between 1995 and 2000 with at least a 3.5 [Grade Point Average (GPA)] and a [score of] 159 or higher on the [Law School Admission Test (LSAT)]” while a number of Caucasian and Asian-American applicants with similar or lower scores were admitted. Ibid.

Review of the record reveals only 67 such individuals. Of these 67 individuals, 56 were Hispanic, while only 6 were African-American, and only 5 were Native American. This discrepancy reflects a consistent practice. For example, in 2000, 12 Hispanics who scored between a 159-160 on the LSAT and earned a GPA of 3.00 or higher applied for admission and only 2 were admitted. App. 200-201. Meanwhile, 12 African-Americans in the same range of qualifications applied for admission and all 12 were admitted. Id., at 198. Likewise, that same year, 16 Hispanics who scored between a 151-153 on the LSAT and earned a 3.00 or higher applied for admission and only 1 of those applicants was admitted. Id., at 200-201. Twenty-three similarly qualified African-Americans applied for admission and 14 were admitted. Id., at 198.

These statistics have a significant bearing on petitioner’s case. Respondents have never offered any race-specific arguments explaining why significantly more individuals from one underrepresented minority group are needed in order to achieve “critical mass” or further student body diversity. They certainly have not explained why Hispanics, who they *383have said are among “the groups most isolated by racial barriers in our country,” should have their admission capped out in this manner. Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 50. True, petitioner is neither Hispanic nor Native American. But the Law School’s disparate admissions practices with respect to these minority groups demonstrate that its alleged goal of “critical mass” is simply a sham. Petitioner may use these statistics to expose this sham, which is the basis for the Law School’s admission of less qualified underrepresented minorities in preference to her. Surely strict scrutiny cannot permit these sorts of disparities without at least some explanation.

Only when the “critical mass” label is discarded does a likely explanation for these numbers emerge. The Court states that the Law School’s goal of attaining a “critical mass” of underrepresented minority students is not an interest in merely “ ‘assuring] within its student body some specified percentage of a particular group merely because of its race or ethnic origin.’” Ante, at 329 (quoting Bakke, 438 U. S., at 307 (opinion of Powell, J.)). The Court recognizes that such an interest “would amount to outright racial balancing, which is patently unconstitutional.” Ante, at 330. The Court concludes, however, that the Law School’s use of race in admissions, consistent with Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke, only pays “ ‘[s]ome attention to numbers.’ ” Ante, at 336 (quoting Bakke, supra, at 323).

But the correlation between the percentage of the Law School’s pool of applicants who are members of the three minority groups and the percentage of the admitted applicants who are members of these same groups is far too precise to be dismissed as merely the result of the school paying “some attention to [the] numbers.” As the tables below show, from 1995 through 2000 the percentage of admitted applicants who were members of these minority groups closely tracked the percentage of individuals in the school’s applicant pool who were from the same groups.

*384Table 1

Year Number of law school applicants Number of African-American applicants ft of applicants who were African-American Number of applicants admitted by the law school Number of African-American applicants admitted ft of admitted applicants who were African-American

1995 4147 404 9.7% 1130 106 9.4%

1996 3677 342 9.3% 1170 108 9.2%

1997 3429 320 9.3% 1218 101 8.3%

1998 3537 304 8.6% 1310 103 7.9%

1999 3400 247 7.3% 1280 91 7.1%

2000 3432 259 7.5% 1249 91 7.3%

Table 2

Year Number of law school applicants Number of Hispanic applicants ft of applicants who were Hispanic Number of applicants admitted by the law school Number of Hispanic applicants admitted ft of admitted applicants who were Hispanic

1995 4147 213 5.1% 1130 56

1996 3677 186 5.1% 1170 54 4.6%

1997 3429 163 4.8% 1218 47 3.9%

1998 3537 150 4.2% 1310 55 4.2%

1999 3400 152 4.5% 1280 48 3.8%

2000 3432 168 4.9% 1249 53 4.2%

Table 3

Year Number of law school applicants Number of Native American applicants ft of applicants who were Native • American Number of applicants admitted by the law school Number of Native American applicants admitted ft of admitted applicants who were Native American

1995 4147 45 1.1% 1130 14 1.2%

1996 3677 31 0.8% 1170 13 1.1%

1997 3429 37 1.1% 1218 19 1.6%

1998 3537 40 1.1% 1310 18 1.4%

1999 3400 25 0.7% 1280 13 1.0%

2000 3432 35 1.0% 1249 14 1.1%

*385For example, in 1995, when 9.7% of the applicant pool was African-American, 9.4% of the admitted class was African-American. By 2000, only 7.5% of the applicant pool was African-American, and 7.3% of the admitted class was African-American. This correlation is striking. Respondents themselves emphasize that the number of underrepresented minority students admitted to the Law School would be significantly smaller if the race of each applicant were not considered. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 223a; Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 6 (quoting App. to Pet. for Cert. 299a). But, as the examples above illustrate, the measure of the decrease would differ dramatically among the groups. The tight correlation between the percentage of applicants and admittees of a given race, therefore, must result from careful race based planning by the Law School. It suggests a formula for admission based on the aspirational assumption that all applicants are equally qualified academically, and therefore that the proportion of each group admitted should be the same as the proportion of that group in the applicant pool. See Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 43, n. 70 (discussing admissions officers’ use of “periodic reports” to track “the racial composition of the developing class”).

Not only do respondents fail to explain this phenomenon, they attempt to obscure it. See id., at 32, n. 50 (“The Law School’s minority enrollment percentages . . . diverged from the percentages in the applicant pool by as much as 17.7% from 1995-2000”). But the divergence between the percentages of underrepresented minorities in the applicant pool and in the enrolled classes is not the only relevant comparison. In fact, it may not be the most relevant comparison. The Law School cannot precisely control which of its admitted applicants decide to attend the university. But it can and, as the numbers demonstrate, clearly does employ racial preferences in extending offers of admission. Indeed, the ostensibly flexible nature of the Law School’s admissions program *386that the Court finds appealing, see ante, at 337-338, appears to be, in practice, a carefully managed program designed to ensure proportionate representation of applicants from selected minority groups.

I do not believe that the Constitution gives the Law School such free rein in the use of race. The Law School has offered no explanation for its actual admissions practices and, unexplained, we are bound to conclude that the Law School has managed its admissions program, not to achieve a “critical mass,” but to extend offers of admission to members of selected minority groups in proportion to their statistical representation in the applicant pool. But this is precisely the type of racial balancing that the Court itself calls “patently unconstitutional.” Ante, at 330.

Finally, I believe that the Law School’s program fails strict scrutiny because it is devoid of any reasonably precise time limit on the Law School’s use of race in admissions. We have emphasized that we will consider “the planned duration of the remedy” in determining whether a race-conscious program is constitutional. Fullilove, 448 U. S., at 510 (Powell, J., concurring); see also United States v. Paradise, 480 U. S. 149, 171 (1987) (“In determining whether race-conscious remedies are appropriate, we look to several factors, including the . . . duration of the relief”). Our previous eases have required some limit on the duration of programs such as this because discrimination on the basis of race is invidious.

The Court suggests a possible 25-year limitation on the Law School’s current program. See ante, at 343. Respondents, on the other hand, remain more ambiguous, explaining that “[t]he Law School of course recognizes that race-conscious programs must have reasonable durational limits, and the Sixth Circuit properly found such a limit in the Law School’s resolve to cease considering race when genuine race-neutral alternatives become available.” Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 32. These discussions of a time *387limit are the vaguest of assurances. In truth, they permit the Law School’s use of racial preferences on a seemingly permanent basis. Thus, an important component of strict scrutiny — that a program be limited in time — is casually subverted.

The Court, in an unprecedented display of deference under our strict scrutiny analysis, upholds the Law School’s program despite its obvious flaws. We have said that when it comes to the use of race, the connection between the ends and the means used to attain them must be precise. But here the flaw is deeper than that; it is not merely a question of “fit” between ends and means. Here the means actually used are forbidden by the Equal Protection Clause of the Constitution.

Justice Kennedy,

dissenting.

The separate opinion by Justice Powell in Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265, 289-291, 315-318 (1978), is based on the principle that a university admissions program may take account of race as one, nonpredominant factor in a system designed to consider each applicant as an individual, provided the program can meet the test of strict scrutiny by the judiciary. This is a unitary formulation. If strict scrutiny is abandoned or manipulated to distort its real and accepted meaning, the Court lacks authority to approve the use of race even in this modest, limited way. The opinion by Justice Powell, in my view, states the correct rule for resolving this case. The Court, however, does not apply strict scrutiny. By trying to say otherwise, it undermines both the test and its own controlling precedents.

Justice Powell’s approval of the use of race in university admissions reflected a tradition, grounded in the First Amendment, of acknowledging a university’s conception of its educational mission. Id., at 312-314; ante, at 329. Our precedents provide a basis for the Court’s acceptance of a university’s considered judgment that racial diversity among *388students can further its educational task, when supported by empirical evidence. Ante, at 329-331.

It is unfortunate, however, that the Court takes the first part of Justice Powell’s rule but abandons the second. Having approved the use of race as a factor in the admissions process, the majority proceeds to nullify the essential safeguard Justice Powell insisted upon as the precondition of the approval. The safeguard was rigorous judicial review, with strict scrutiny as the controlling standard. Bakke, supra, at 291 (“Racial and ethnic distinctions of any sort are inherently suspect and thus call for the most exacting judicial examination”). This Court has reaffirmed, subsequent to Bakke, the absolute necessity of strict scrutiny when the State uses race as an operative category. Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Peña, 515 U. S. 200, 224 (1995) (“[A]ny person, of whatever race, has the right to demand that any governmental actor subject to the Constitution justify any racial classification subjecting that person to unequal treatment under the strictest judicial scrutiny”); Richmond v. J. A. Croson Co., 488 U. S. 469, 493-494 (1989); see id., at 519 (Kennedy, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (“[A]ny racial preference must face the most rigorous scrutiny by the courts”). The Court confuses deference to a university’s definition of its educational objective with deference to the implementation of this goal. In the context of university admissions the objective of racial diversity can be accepted based on empirical data known to us, but deference is not to be given with respect to the methods by which it is pursued. Preferment by race, when resorted to by the State, can be the most divisive of all policies, containing within it the potential to destroy confidence in the Constitution and in the idea of equality. The majority today refuses to be faithful to the settled principle of strict review designed to reflect these concerns.

The Court, in a review that is nothing short of perfunctory, accepts the University of Michigan Law School’s (Law *389School) assurances that its admissions process meets with constitutional requirements. The majority fails to confront the reality of how the Law School’s admissions policy is implemented. The dissenting opinion by The Chief Justice, which I join in full, demonstrates beyond question why the concept of critical mass is a delusion used by the Law School to mask its attempt to make race an automatic factor in most instances and to achieve numerical goals indistinguishable from quotas. An effort to achieve racial balance among the minorities the school seeks to attract is, by the Court’s own admission, “patently unconstitutional.” Ante, at 330; see also Bakke, supra, at 307 (opinion of Powell, J.). It remains to point out how critical mass becomes inconsistent with individual consideration in some more specific aspects of the admissions process.

About 80% to 85% of the places in the entering class are given to applicants in the upper range of Law School Admissions Test scores and grades. An applicant with these credentials likely will be admitted without consideration of race or ethnicity. With respect to the remaining 15% to 20% of the seats, race is likely outcome determinative for many members of minority groups. That is where the competition becomes tight and where any given applicant’s chance of admission is far smaller if he or she lacks minority status. At this point the numerical concept of critical mass has the real potential to compromise individual review.

The Law School has not demonstrated how individual consideration is, or can be, preserved at this stage of the application process given the instruction to attain what it calls critical mass. In fact the evidence shows otherwise. There was little deviation among admitted minority students during the years from 1995 to 1998. The percentage of enrolled minorities fluctuated only by 0.3%, from 13.5% to 13.8%. The number of minority students to whom offers were extended varied by just a slightly greater magnitude of 2.2%, from the high of 15.6% in 1995 to the low of 13.4% in 1998.

*390The District Court relied on this uncontested fact to draw an inference that the Law School’s pursuit of critical mass mutated into the equivalent of a quota. 137 F. Supp. 2d 821, 851 (ED Mich. 2001). Admittedly, there were greater fluctuations among enrolled minorities in the preceding years, 1987-1994, by as much as 5% or 6%. The percentage of minority offers, however, at no point fell below 12%, historically defined by the Law School as the bottom of its critical mass range. The greater variance during the earlier years, in any event, does not dispel suspicion that the school engaged iri racial balancing. The data would be consistent with an inference that the Law School modified its target only twice, in 1991 (from 13% to 19%), and then again in 1995 (back from 20% to 13%). The intervening year, 1993, when the percentage dropped to 14.5%, could be an aberration, caused by the school’s miscalculation as to how many applicants with offers would accept or'by its redefinition, made in April 1992, of which minority groups were entitled to race-based preference. See Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 49, n. 79.

Year Percentage of enrolled minority students

1987 12.3%

1988 13.6%

1989 14.4%

1990 13.4%

1991 19.1%

1992 19.8%

1993 14.5%

1994 20.1%

1995 13.5%

1996 13.8%

1997 13.6%

1998 13.8%

The narrow fluctuation band raises an inference that the Law School subverted individual determination, and strict *391scrutiny requires the Law School to overcome the inference. Whether the objective of critical mass “is described as a quota or a goal, it is a line drawn on the basis of race and ethnic status,” and so risks compromising individual assessment. Bakke, 438 U. S., at 289 (opinion of Powell, J.). In this respect the Law School program compares unfavorably with the experience of Little Ivy League colleges. Amicus Amherst College, for example, informs us that the offers it extended to students of African-American background during the period from 1993 to 2002 ranged between 81 and 125 out of 950 offers total, resulting in a fluctuation from 24 to 49 matriculated students in a class of about 425. See Brief for Amherst College et al. as Amici Curiae 10-11. The Law School insisted upon a much smaller fluctuation, both in the offers extended and in the students who eventually enrolled, despite having a comparable class size.

The Law School has the burden of proving, in conformance with the standard of strict scrutiny, that it did not utilize race in an unconstitutional way. Adarand Constructors, 515 U. S., at 224. At the very least, the constancy of admitted minority students and the close correlation between the racial breakdown of admitted minorities and the composition of the applicant pool, discussed by The Chief Justice, ante, at 380-386, require the Law School either to produce a convincing explanation or to show it has taken adequate steps to ensure individual assessment. The Law School does neither.

The obvious tension between the pursuit of critical mass and the requirement of individual review increased by the end of the admissions season. Most of the decisions where race may decide the outcome are made during this period. See supra, at 389. The admissions officers consulted the daily reports which indicated the composition of the incoming class along racial lines. As Dennis Shields, Director of Admissions from 1991 to 1996, stated, “the further [he] went into the [admissions] season the more frequently [he] would *392want to look at these [reports] and see the change from day-to-day.” These reports would “track exactly where [the Law School] st[ood] at any given time in assembling the class,” and so would tell the admissions personnel whether they were short of assembling a critical mass of minority students. Shields generated these reports because the Law School’s admissions policy told him the racial makeup of the entering class was “something [he] need[ed] to be concerned about,” and so he had “to find a way of tracking what’s going on.” Deposition of Dennis Shields in Civ. Action No. 97-75928, pp. 129-130, 141 (ED Mich., Dec. 7, 1998).

The consultation of daily reports during the last stages in the admissions process suggests there was no further attempt at individual review save for race itself. The admissions officers could use the reports to recalibrate the plus factor given to race depending on how close they were to achieving the Law School’s goal of critical mass. The bonus factor of race would then become divorced from individual review; it would be premised instead on the numerical objective set by the Law School.

The Law School made no effort to guard against this danger. It provided no guidelines to its admissions personnel on how to reconcile individual assessment with the directive to admit a critical mass of minority students. The admissions program could have been structured to eliminate at least some of the risk that the promise of individual evaluation was not being kept. The daily consideration of racial breakdown of admitted students is not a feature of affirmative-action programs used by other institutions of higher learning. The Little Ivy League colleges, for instance, do not keep ongoing tallies of racial or ethnic composition of their entering students. See Brief for Amherst College et al. as Amici Curiae 10.

To be constitutional, a university’s compelling interest in a diverse student body must be achieved by a system where individual assessment is safeguarded through the entire process. There is no constitutional objection to the goal of *393considering race as one modest factor among many others to achieve diversity, but an educational institution must ensure, through sufficient procedures, that each applicant receives individual consideration and that race does not become a predominant factor in the admissions decisionmaking. The Law School failed to comply with this requirement, and by no means has it carried its burden to show otherwise by the test of strict scrutiny.

The Court’s refusal to apply meaningful strict scrutiny will lead to serious consequences. By deferring to the law schools’ choice of minority admissions programs, the courts will lose the talents and resources of the faculties and administrators in devising new and fairer ways to ensure individual consideration. Constant and rigorous judicial review forces the law school faculties to undertake their responsibilities as state employees in this most sensitive of areas with utmost fidelity to the mandate of the Constitution. Dean Allan Stillwagon, who directed the Law School’s Office of Admissions from 1979 to 1990, explained the difficulties he encountered in defining racial groups entitled to benefit under the Law School’s affirmative action policy. He testified that faculty members were “breathtakingly cynical” in deciding who would qualify as a member of underrepresented minorities. An example he offered was faculty debate as to whether Cubans should be counted as Hispanics: One professor objected on the grounds that Cubans were Republicans. Many academics at other law schools who are “affirmative action’s more forthright defenders readily concede that diversity is merely the current rationale of convenience for a policy that they prefer to justify on other grounds.” Schuck, Affirmative Action: Past, Present, and Future, 20 Yale L. & Pol’y Rev. 1,34 (2002) (citing Levinson, Diversity, 2 U. Pa. J. Const. L. 573, 577-578 (2000); Rubenfeld, Affirmative Action, 107 Yale L. J. 427,471 (1997)). This is not to suggest the faculty at Michigan or other law schools do not pursue aspirations they consider laudable and consistent with our constitutional *394traditions. It is but further evidence of the necessity for scrutiny that is real, not feigned, where the corrosive category of race is a factor in decisionmaking. Prospective students, the courts, and the public can demand that the State and its law schools prove their process is fair and constitutional in every phase of implementation.

It is difficult to assess the Court’s pronouncement that race-conscious admissions programs will be unnecessary 25 years from now. Ante, at S41-343. If it is intended to mitigate the damage the Court does to the concept of strict scrutiny, neither petitioner nor other rejected law school applicants will find solace in knowing the basic protection put in place by Justice Powell will be suspended for a full quarter of a century. Deference is antithetical to strict scrutiny, not consistent with it.

As to the interpretation that the opinion contains its own self-destruct mechanism, the majority’s abandonment of strict scrutiny undermines this objective. Were the courts to apply a searching standard to race-based admissions schemes, that would force educational institutions to seriously explore race-neutral alternatives. The Court, by contrast, is willing to be satisfied by the Law School’s profession of its own good faith. The majority admits as much: “We take the Law School at its word that it would Tike nothing better than to find a race-neutral admissions formula’ and will terminate its race-conscious admissions program as soon as practicable.” Ante, at 343 (quoting Brief for Respondent Bollinger et al. 34).

If universities are given the latitude to administer programs that are tantamount to quotas, they will have few incentives to make the existing minority admissions schemes transparent and protective of individual review. The unhappy consequence will be to perpetuate the hostilities that proper consideration of race is designed to avoid. The perpetuation, of course, would be the worst of all outcomes. Other programs do exist which will be more effective in *395bringing about the harmony and mutual respect among all citizens that our constitutional tradition has always sought. They, and not the program under review here, should be the model, even if the Court defaults by not demanding it.

It is regrettable the Court’s important holding allowing racial minorities to have their special circumstances considered in order to improve their educational opportunities is accompanied by a suspension of the strict scrutiny which was the predicate of allowing race to be considered in the first place. If the Court abdicates its constitutional duty to give strict scrutiny to the use of race in university admissions, it negates my authority to approve the use of race in pursuit of student diversity. The Constitution cannot confer the right to classify on the basis of race even in this special context absent searching judicial review. For these reasons, though I reiterate my approval of giving appropriate consideration to race in this one context, I must dissent in the present case.

Justice GORSUCH delivered the opinion of the Court.

*1737Sometimes small gestures can have unexpected consequences. Major initiatives practically guarantee them. In our time, few pieces of federal legislation rank in significance with the Civil Rights Act of 1964. There, in Title VII, Congress outlawed discrimination in the workplace on the basis of race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. Today, we must decide whether an employer can fire someone simply for being homosexual or transgender. The answer is clear. An employer who fires an individual for being homosexual or transgender fires that person for traits or actions it would not have questioned in members of a different sex. Sex plays a necessary and undisguisable role in the decision, exactly what Title VII forbids.

Those who adopted the Civil Rights Act might not have anticipated their work would lead to this particular result. Likely, they weren't thinking about many of the Act's consequences that have become apparent over the years, including its prohibition against discrimination on the basis of motherhood or its ban on the sexual harassment of male employees. But the limits of the drafters' imagination supply no reason to ignore the law's demands. When the express terms of a statute give us one answer and extratextual considerations suggest another, it's no contest. Only the written word is the law, and all persons are entitled to its benefit.

I

Few facts are needed to appreciate the legal question we face. Each of the three cases before us started the same way: An employer fired a long-time employee shortly after the employee revealed that he or she is homosexual or transgender-and allegedly for no reason other than the employee's homosexuality or transgender status.

Gerald Bostock worked for Clayton County, Georgia, as a child welfare advocate. Under his leadership, the county won national awards for its work. After a decade with the county, Mr. Bostock began participating in a gay recreational softball league. Not long after that, influential *1738members of the community allegedly made disparaging comments about Mr. Bostock's sexual orientation and participation in the league. Soon, he was fired for conduct "unbecoming" a county employee.

Donald Zarda worked as a skydiving instructor at Altitude Express in New York. After several seasons with the company, Mr. Zarda mentioned that he was gay and, days later, was fired.

Aimee Stephens worked at R.G. & G.R. Harris Funeral Homes in Garden City, Michigan. When she got the job, Ms. Stephens presented as a male. But two years into her service with the company, she began treatment for despair and loneliness. Ultimately, clinicians diagnosed her with gender dysphoria and recommended that she begin living as a woman. In her sixth year with the company, Ms. Stephens wrote a letter to her employer explaining that she planned to " live and work full-time as a woman" after she returned from an upcoming vacation. The funeral home fired her before she left, telling her "this is not going to work out."

While these cases began the same way, they ended differently. Each employee brought suit under Title VII alleging unlawful discrimination on the basis of sex. 78 Stat. 255, 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(a)(1). In Mr. Bostock's case, the Eleventh Circuit held that the law does not prohibit employers from firing employees for being gay and so his suit could be dismissed as a matter of law. 723 Fed.Appx. 964 (2018). Meanwhile, in Mr. Zarda's case, the Second Circuit concluded that sexual orientation discrimination does violate Title VII and allowed his case to proceed. 883 F.3d 100 (2018). Ms. Stephens's case has a more complex procedural history, but in the end the Sixth Circuit reached a decision along the same lines as the Second Circuit's, holding that Title VII bars employers from firing employees because of their transgender status. 884 F.3d 560 (2018). During the course of the proceedings in these long-running disputes, both Mr. Zarda and Ms. Stephens have passed away. But their estates continue to press their causes for the benefit of their heirs. And we granted certiorari in these matters to resolve at last the disagreement among the courts of appeals over the scope of Title VII's protections for homosexual and transgender persons. 587 U.S. ----, 139 S.Ct. 1599, 203 L.Ed.2d 754 (2019).

II

This Court normally interprets a statute in accord with the ordinary public meaning of its terms at the time of its enactment. After all, only the words on the page constitute the law adopted by Congress and approved by the President. If judges could add to, remodel, update, or detract from old statutory terms inspired only by extratextual sources and our own imaginations, we would risk amending statutes outside the legislative process reserved for the people's representatives. And we would deny the people the right to continue relying on the original meaning of the law they have counted on to settle their rights and obligations. See New Prime Inc. v. Oliveira , 586 U.S. ----, ---- - ----, 139 S.Ct. 532, 538-539, 202 L.Ed.2d 536 (2019).

With this in mind, our task is clear. We must determine the ordinary public meaning of Title VII's command that it is "unlawful ... for an employer to fail or refuse to hire or to discharge any individual, or otherwise to discriminate against any individual with respect to his compensation, terms, conditions, or privileges of employment, because of such individual's race, color, religion, sex, or national origin." § 2000e-2(a)(1). To do so, we orient ourselves to the time of the statute's adoption, here 1964, and begin by examining *1739the key statutory terms in turn before assessing their impact on the cases at hand and then confirming our work against this Court's precedents.

A

The only statutorily protected characteristic at issue in today's cases is "sex"-and that is also the primary term in Title VII whose meaning the parties dispute. Appealing to roughly contemporaneous dictionaries, the employers say that, as used here, the term "sex" in 1964 referred to "status as either male or female [as] determined by reproductive biology." The employees counter by submitting that, even in 1964, the term bore a broader scope, capturing more than anatomy and reaching at least some norms concerning gender identity and sexual orientation. But because nothing in our approach to these cases turns on the outcome of the parties' debate, and because the employees concede the point for argument's sake, we proceed on the assumption that "sex" signified what the employers suggest, referring only to biological distinctions between male and female.

Still, that's just a starting point. The question isn't just what "sex" meant, but what Title VII says about it. Most notably, the statute prohibits employers from taking certain actions "because of " sex. And, as this Court has previously explained, "the ordinary meaning of 'because of' is 'by reason of' or 'on account of.' " University of Tex. Southwestern Medical Center v. Nassar , 570 U.S. 338, 350, 133 S.Ct. 2517, 186 L.Ed.2d 503 (2013) (citing Gross v. FBL Financial Services, Inc. , 557 U.S. 167, 176, 129 S.Ct. 2343, 174 L.Ed.2d 119 (2009) ; quotation altered). In the language of law, this means that Title VII's "because of " test incorporates the " 'simple' " and "traditional" standard of but-for causation. Nassar , 570 U.S. at 346, 360, 133 S.Ct. 2517. That form of causation is established whenever a particular outcome would not have happened "but for" the purported cause. See Gross , 557 U.S. at 176, 129 S.Ct. 2343. In other words, a but-for test directs us to change one thing at a time and see if the outcome changes. If it does, we have found a but-for cause.

This can be a sweeping standard. Often, events have multiple but-for causes. So, for example, if a car accident occurred both because the defendant ran a red light and because the plaintiff failed to signal his turn at the intersection, we might call each a but-for cause of the collision. Cf. Burrage v. United States , 571 U.S. 204, 211-212, 134 S.Ct. 881, 187 L.Ed.2d 715 (2014). When it comes to Title VII, the adoption of the traditional but-for causation standard means a defendant cannot avoid liability just by citing some other factor that contributed to its challenged employment decision. So long as the plaintiff 's sex was one but-for cause of that decision, that is enough to trigger the law. See ibid . ; Nassar , 570 U.S. at 350, 133 S.Ct. 2517.

No doubt, Congress could have taken a more parsimonious approach. As it has in other statutes, it could have added "solely" to indicate that actions taken "because of " the confluence of multiple factors do not violate the law. Cf. 11 U.S.C. § 525 ; 16 U.S.C. § 511. Or it could have written "primarily because of " to indicate that the prohibited factor had to be the main cause of the defendant's challenged employment decision. Cf. 22 U.S.C. § 2688. But none of this is the law we have. If anything, Congress has moved in the opposite direction, supplementing Title VII in 1991 to allow a plaintiff to prevail merely by showing that a protected trait like sex was a "motivating factor" in a defendant's challenged employment practice. Civil Rights Act of 1991, § 107, 105 Stat. 1075, codified at *174042 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(m). Under this more forgiving standard, liability can sometimes follow even if sex wasn't a but-for cause of the employer's challenged decision. Still, because nothing in our analysis depends on the motivating factor test, we focus on the more traditional but-for causation standard that continues to afford a viable, if no longer exclusive, path to relief under Title VII. § 2000e-2(a)(1).

As sweeping as even the but-for causation standard can be, Title VII does not concern itself with everything that happens "because of " sex. The statute imposes liability on employers only when they "fail or refuse to hire," "discharge," "or otherwise ... discriminate against" someone because of a statutorily protected characteristic like sex. Ibid. The employers acknowledge that they discharged the plaintiffs in today's cases, but assert that the statute's list of verbs is qualified by the last item on it: "otherwise ... discriminate against." By virtue of the word otherwise , the employers suggest, Title VII concerns itself not with every discharge, only with those discharges that involve discrimination.

Accepting this point, too, for argument's sake, the question becomes: What did "discriminate" mean in 1964? As it turns out, it meant then roughly what it means today: "To make a difference in treatment or favor (of one as compared with others)." Webster's New International Dictionary 745 (2d ed. 1954). To "discriminate against" a person, then, would seem to mean treating that individual worse than others who are similarly situated. See Burlington N. & S. F. R. Co. v. White , 548 U.S. 53, 59, 126 S.Ct. 2405, 165 L.Ed.2d 345 (2006). In so-called "disparate treatment" cases like today's, this Court has also held that the difference in treatment based on sex must be intentional. See, e.g., Watson v. Fort Worth Bank & Trust , 487 U.S. 977, 986, 108 S.Ct. 2777, 101 L.Ed.2d 827 (1988). So, taken together, an employer who intentionally treats a person worse because of sex-such as by firing the person for actions or attributes it would tolerate in an individual of another sex-discriminates against that person in violation of Title VII.

At first glance, another interpretation might seem possible. Discrimination sometimes involves "the act, practice, or an instance of discriminating categorically rather than individually." Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary 326 (1975); see also post, at 1768- 1769, n. 22 (ALITO, J., dissenting). On that understanding, the statute would require us to consider the employer's treatment of groups rather than individuals, to see how a policy affects one sex as a whole versus the other as a whole. That idea holds some intuitive appeal too. Maybe the law concerns itself simply with ensuring that employers don't treat women generally less favorably than they do men. So how can we tell which sense, individual or group, "discriminate" carries in Title VII?

The statute answers that question directly. It tells us three times-including immediately after the words "discriminate against"-that our focus should be on individuals, not groups: Employers may not "fail or refuse to hire or ... discharge any individual , or otherwise ... discriminate against any individual with respect to his compensation, terms, conditions, or privileges of employment, because of such individual's ... sex." § 2000e-2(a)(1) (emphasis added). And the meaning of "individual" was as uncontroversial in 1964 as it is today: "A particular being as distinguished from a class, species, or collection." Webster's New International Dictionary, at 1267. Here, again, Congress could have written the law differently. It might have said that "it shall be an unlawful employment *1741practice to prefer one sex to the other in hiring, firing, or the terms or conditions of employment." It might have said that there should be no "sex discrimination," perhaps implying a focus on differential treatment between the two sexes as groups. More narrowly still, it could have forbidden only "sexist policies" against women as a class. But, once again, that is not the law we have.

The consequences of the law's focus on individuals rather than groups are anything but academic. Suppose an employer fires a woman for refusing his sexual advances. It's no defense for the employer to note that, while he treated that individual woman worse than he would have treated a man, he gives preferential treatment to female employees overall. The employer is liable for treating this woman worse in part because of her sex. Nor is it a defense for an employer to say it discriminates against both men and women because of sex. This statute works to protect individuals of both sexes from discrimination, and does so equally. So an employer who fires a woman, Hannah, because she is insufficiently feminine and also fires a man, Bob, for being insufficiently masculine may treat men and women as groups more or less equally. But in both cases the employer fires an individual in part because of sex. Instead of avoiding Title VII exposure, this employer doubles it.

B

From the ordinary public meaning of the statute's language at the time of the law's adoption, a straightforward rule emerges: An employer violates Title VII when it intentionally fires an individual employee based in part on sex. It doesn't matter if other factors besides the plaintiff 's sex contributed to the decision. And it doesn't matter if the employer treated women as a group the same when compared to men as a group. If the employer intentionally relies in part on an individual employee's sex when deciding to discharge the employee-put differently, if changing the employee's sex would have yielded a different choice by the employer-a statutory violation has occurred. Title VII's message is "simple but momentous": An individual employee's sex is "not relevant to the selection, evaluation, or compensation of employees." Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins , 490 U.S. 228, 239, 109 S.Ct. 1775, 104 L.Ed.2d 268 (1989) (plurality opinion).

The statute's message for our cases is equally simple and momentous: An individual's homosexuality or transgender status is not relevant to employment decisions. That's because it is impossible to discriminate against a person for being homosexual or transgender without discriminating against that individual based on sex. Consider, for example, an employer with two employees, both of whom are attracted to men. The two individuals are, to the employer's mind, materially identical in all respects, except that one is a man and the other a woman. If the employer fires the male employee for no reason other than the fact he is attracted to men, the employer discriminates against him for traits or actions it tolerates in his female colleague. Put differently, the employer intentionally singles out an employee to fire based in part on the employee's sex, and the affected employee's sex is a but-for cause of his discharge. Or take an employer who fires a transgender person who was identified as a male at birth but who now identifies as a female. If the employer retains an otherwise identical employee who was identified as female at birth, the employer intentionally penalizes a person identified as male at birth for traits or actions that it tolerates in an employee identified as female at birth. Again, the individual employee's sex plays an unmistakable *1742and impermissible role in the discharge decision.

That distinguishes these cases from countless others where Title VII has nothing to say. Take an employer who fires a female employee for tardiness or incompetence or simply supporting the wrong sports team. Assuming the employer would not have tolerated the same trait in a man, Title VII stands silent. But unlike any of these other traits or actions, homosexuality and transgender status are inextricably bound up with sex. Not because homosexuality or transgender status are related to sex in some vague sense or because discrimination on these bases has some disparate impact on one sex or another, but because to discriminate on these grounds requires an employer to intentionally treat individual employees differently because of their sex.

Nor does it matter that, when an employer treats one employee worse because of that individual's sex, other factors may contribute to the decision. Consider an employer with a policy of firing any woman he discovers to be a Yankees fan. Carrying out that rule because an employee is a woman and a fan of the Yankees is a firing "because of sex" if the employer would have tolerated the same allegiance in a male employee. Likewise here. When an employer fires an employee because she is homosexual or transgender, two causal factors may be in play-both the individual's sex and something else (the sex to which the individual is attracted or with which the individual identifies). But Title VII doesn't care. If an employer would not have discharged an employee but for that individual's sex, the statute's causation standard is met, and liability may attach.

Reframing the additional causes in today's cases as additional intentions can do no more to insulate the employers from liability. Intentionally burning down a neighbor's house is arson, even if the perpetrator's ultimate intention (or motivation) is only to improve the view. No less, intentional discrimination based on sex violates Title VII, even if it is intended only as a means to achieving the employer's ultimate goal of discriminating against homosexual or transgender employees. There is simply no escaping the role intent plays here: Just as sex is necessarily a but-for cause when an employer discriminates against homosexual or transgender employees, an employer who discriminates on these grounds inescapably intends to rely on sex in its decisionmaking. Imagine an employer who has a policy of firing any employee known to be homosexual. The employer hosts an office holiday party and invites employees to bring their spouses. A model employee arrives and introduces a manager to Susan, the employee's wife. Will that employee be fired? If the policy works as the employer intends, the answer depends entirely on whether the model employee is a man or a woman. To be sure, that employer's ultimate goal might be to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation. But to achieve that purpose the employer must, along the way, intentionally treat an employee worse based in part on that individual's sex.

An employer musters no better a defense by responding that it is equally happy to fire male and female employees who are homosexual or transgender. Title VII liability is not limited to employers who, through the sum of all of their employment actions, treat the class of men differently than the class of women. Instead, the law makes each instance of discriminating against an individual employee because of that individual's sex an independent violation of Title VII. So just as an employer who fires both Hannah and Bob for failing to fulfill traditional sex stereotypes doubles rather than eliminates Title *1743VII liability, an employer who fires both Hannah and Bob for being gay or transgender does the same.

At bottom, these cases involve no more than the straightforward application of legal terms with plain and settled meanings. For an employer to discriminate against employees for being homosexual or transgender, the employer must intentionally discriminate against individual men and women in part because of sex. That has always been prohibited by Title VII's plain terms-and that "should be the end of the analysis." 883 F.3d at 135 (Cabranes, J., concurring in judgment).

C

If more support for our conclusion were required, there's no need to look far. All that the statute's plain terms suggest, this Court's cases have already confirmed. Consider three of our leading precedents.

In Phillips v. Martin Marietta Corp. , 400 U.S. 542, 91 S.Ct. 496, 27 L.Ed.2d 613 (1971) (per curiam ), a company allegedly refused to hire women with young children, but did hire men with children the same age. Because its discrimination depended not only on the employee's sex as a female but also on the presence of another criterion-namely, being a parent of young children-the company contended it hadn't engaged in discrimination "because of " sex. The company maintained, too, that it hadn't violated the law because, as a whole, it tended to favor hiring women over men. Unsurprisingly by now, these submissions did not sway the Court. That an employer discriminates intentionally against an individual only in part because of sex supplies no defense to Title VII. Nor does the fact an employer may happen to favor women as a class.

In Los Angeles Dept. of Water and Power v. Manhart , 435 U.S. 702, 98 S.Ct. 1370, 55 L.Ed.2d 657 (1978), an employer required women to make larger pension fund contributions than men. The employer sought to justify its disparate treatment on the ground that women tend to live longer than men, and thus are likely to receive more from the pension fund over time. By everyone's admission, the employer was not guilty of animosity against women or a "purely habitual assumptio[n] about a woman's inability to perform certain kinds of work"; instead, it relied on what appeared to be a statistically accurate statement about life expectancy. Id. , at 707-708, 98 S.Ct. 1370. Even so, the Court recognized, a rule that appears evenhanded at the group level can prove discriminatory at the level of individuals. True, women as a class may live longer than men as a class. But "[t]he statute's focus on the individual is unambiguous," and any individual woman might make the larger pension contributions and still die as early as a man. Id. , at 708, 98 S.Ct. 1370. Likewise, the Court dismissed as irrelevant the employer's insistence that its actions were motivated by a wish to achieve classwide equality between the sexes: An employer's intentional discrimination on the basis of sex is no more permissible when it is prompted by some further intention (or motivation), even one as prosaic as seeking to account for actuarial tables. Ibid. The employer violated Title VII because, when its policy worked exactly as planned, it could not "pass the simple test" asking whether an individual female employee would have been treated the same regardless of her sex. Id. , at 711, 98 S.Ct. 1370.

In Oncale v. Sundowner Offshore Services, Inc. , 523 U.S. 75, 118 S.Ct. 998, 140 L.Ed.2d 201 (1998), a male plaintiff alleged that he was singled out by his male co-workers for sexual harassment. The Court held it was immaterial that members of the same sex as the victim committed the alleged discrimination. Nor did the Court *1744concern itself with whether men as a group were subject to discrimination or whether something in addition to sex contributed to the discrimination, like the plaintiff 's conduct or personal attributes. "[A]ssuredly," the case didn't involve "the principal evil Congress was concerned with when it enacted Title VII." Id. , at 79, 118 S.Ct. 998. But, the Court unanimously explained, it is "the provisions of our laws rather than the principal concerns of our legislators by which we are governed." Ibid. Because the plaintiff alleged that the harassment would not have taken place but for his sex-that is, the plaintiff would not have suffered similar treatment if he were female-a triable Title VII claim existed.

The lessons these cases hold for ours are by now familiar.

First, it's irrelevant what an employer might call its discriminatory practice, how others might label it, or what else might motivate it. In Manhart , the employer called its rule requiring women to pay more into the pension fund a "life expectancy" adjustment necessary to achieve sex equality. In Phillips , the employer could have accurately spoken of its policy as one based on "motherhood." In much the same way, today's employers might describe their actions as motivated by their employees' homosexuality or transgender status. But just as labels and additional intentions or motivations didn't make a difference in Manhart or Phillips , they cannot make a difference here. When an employer fires an employee for being homosexual or transgender, it necessarily and intentionally discriminates against that individual in part because of sex. And that is all Title VII has ever demanded to establish liability.

Second, the plaintiff 's sex need not be the sole or primary cause of the employer's adverse action. In Phillips , Manhart , and Oncale , the defendant easily could have pointed to some other, nonprotected trait and insisted it was the more important factor in the adverse employment outcome. So, too, it has no significance here if another factor-such as the sex the plaintiff is attracted to or presents as-might also be at work, or even play a more important role in the employer's decision.

Finally, an employer cannot escape liability by demonstrating that it treats males and females comparably as groups. As Manhart teaches, an employer is liable for intentionally requiring an individual female employee to pay more into a pension plan than a male counterpart even if the scheme promotes equality at the group level. Likewise, an employer who intentionally fires an individual homosexual or transgender employee in part because of that individual's sex violates the law even if the employer is willing to subject all male and female homosexual or transgender employees to the same rule.

III

What do the employers have to say in reply? For present purposes, they do not dispute that they fired the plaintiffs for being homosexual or transgender. Sorting out the true reasons for an adverse employment decision is often a hard business, but none of that is at issue here. Rather, the employers submit that even intentional discrimination against employees based on their homosexuality or transgender status supplies no basis for liability under Title VII.

The employers' argument proceeds in two stages. Seeking footing in the statutory text, they begin by advancing a number of reasons why discrimination on the basis of homosexuality or transgender status doesn't involve discrimination because of sex. But each of these arguments turns out only to repackage errors we've already *1745seen and this Court's precedents have already rejected. In the end, the employers are left to retreat beyond the statute's text, where they fault us for ignoring the legislature's purposes in enacting Title VII or certain expectations about its operation. They warn, too, about consequences that might follow a ruling for the employees. But none of these contentions about what the employers think the law was meant to do, or should do, allow us to ignore the law as it is.

A

Maybe most intuitively, the employers assert that discrimination on the basis of homosexuality and transgender status aren't referred to as sex discrimination in ordinary conversation. If asked by a friend (rather than a judge) why they were fired, even today's plaintiffs would likely respond that it was because they were gay or transgender, not because of sex. According to the employers, that conversational answer, not the statute's strict terms, should guide our thinking and suffice to defeat any suggestion that the employees now before us were fired because of sex. Cf. post, at 1755 - 1756 (ALITO, J., dissenting); post, at 1826 - 1829 (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting).

But this submission rests on a mistaken understanding of what kind of cause the law is looking for in a Title VII case. In conversation, a speaker is likely to focus on what seems most relevant or informative to the listener. So an employee who has just been fired is likely to identify the primary or most direct cause rather than list literally every but-for cause. To do otherwise would be tiring at best. But these conversational conventions do not control Title VII's legal analysis, which asks simply whether sex was a but-for cause. In Phillips , for example, a woman who was not hired under the employer's policy might have told her friends that her application was rejected because she was a mother, or because she had young children. Given that many women could be hired under the policy, it's unlikely she would say she was not hired because she was a woman. But the Court did not hesitate to recognize that the employer in Phillips discriminated against the plaintiff because of her sex. Sex wasn't the only factor, or maybe even the main factor, but it was one but-for cause-and that was enough. You can call the statute's but-for causation test what you will-expansive, legalistic, the dissents even dismiss it as wooden or literal. But it is the law.

Trying another angle, the defendants before us suggest that an employer who discriminates based on homosexuality or transgender status doesn't intentionally discriminate based on sex, as a disparate treatment claim requires. See post , at 1758 - 1760 (ALITO, J., dissenting); post , at 1828 - 1829 (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting). But, as we've seen, an employer who discriminates against homosexual or transgender employees necessarily and intentionally applies sex-based rules. An employer that announces it will not employ anyone who is homosexual, for example, intends to penalize male employees for being attracted to men and female employees for being attracted to women.

What, then, do the employers mean when they insist intentional discrimination based on homosexuality or transgender status isn't intentional discrimination based on sex? Maybe the employers mean they don't intend to harm one sex or the other as a class. But as should be clear by now, the statute focuses on discrimination against individuals, not groups. Alternatively, the employers may mean that they don't perceive themselves as motivated by a desire to discriminate based on sex. But nothing in Title VII turns on the employer's *1746labels or any further intentions (or motivations) for its conduct beyond sex discrimination. In Manhart , the employer intentionally required women to make higher pension contributions only to fulfill the further purpose of making things more equitable between men and women as groups. In Phillips , the employer may have perceived itself as discriminating based on motherhood, not sex, given that its hiring policies as a whole favored women. But in both cases, the Court set all this aside as irrelevant. The employers' policies involved intentional discrimination because of sex, and Title VII liability necessarily followed.

Aren't these cases different, the employers ask, given that an employer could refuse to hire a gay or transgender individual without ever learning the applicant's sex? Suppose an employer asked homosexual or transgender applicants to tick a box on its application form. The employer then had someone else redact any information that could be used to discern sex. The resulting applications would disclose which individuals are homosexual or transgender without revealing whether they also happen to be men or women. Doesn't that possibility indicate that the employer's discrimination against homosexual or transgender persons cannot be sex discrimination?

No, it doesn't. Even in this example, the individual applicant's sex still weighs as a factor in the employer's decision. Change the hypothetical ever so slightly and its flaws become apparent. Suppose an employer's application form offered a single box to check if the applicant is either black or Catholic. If the employer refuses to hire anyone who checks that box, would we conclude the employer has complied with Title VII, so long as it studiously avoids learning any particular applicant's race or religion? Of course not: By intentionally setting out a rule that makes hiring turn on race or religion, the employer violates the law, whatever he might know or not know about individual applicants.

The same holds here. There is no way for an applicant to decide whether to check the homosexual or transgender box without considering sex. To see why, imagine an applicant doesn't know what the words homosexual or transgender mean. Then try writing out instructions for who should check the box without using the words man, woman, or sex (or some synonym). It can't be done. Likewise, there is no way an employer can discriminate against those who check the homosexual or transgender box without discriminating in part because of an applicant's sex. By discriminating against homosexuals, the employer intentionally penalizes men for being attracted to men and women for being attracted to women. By discriminating against transgender persons, the employer unavoidably discriminates against persons with one sex identified at birth and another today. Any way you slice it, the employer intentionally refuses to hire applicants in part because of the affected individuals' sex, even if it never learns any applicant's sex.

Next, the employers turn to Title VII's list of protected characteristics-race, color, religion, sex, and national origin. Because homosexuality and transgender status can't be found on that list and because they are conceptually distinct from sex, the employers reason, they are implicitly excluded from Title VII's reach. Put another way, if Congress had wanted to address these matters in Title VII, it would have referenced them specifically. Cf. post, at 1757 - 1758 (ALITO, J., dissenting); post, at 1828 - 1830 (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting).

But that much does not follow. We agree that homosexuality and transgender status are distinct concepts from *1747sex. But, as we've seen, discrimination based on homosexuality or transgender status necessarily entails discrimination based on sex; the first cannot happen without the second. Nor is there any such thing as a "canon of donut holes," in which Congress's failure to speak directly to a specific case that falls within a more general statutory rule creates a tacit exception. Instead, when Congress chooses not to include any exceptions to a broad rule, courts apply the broad rule. And that is exactly how this Court has always approached Title VII. "Sexual harassment" is conceptually distinct from sex discrimination, but it can fall within Title VII's sweep. Oncale , 523 U.S. at 79-80, 118 S.Ct. 998. Same with "motherhood discrimination." See Phillips , 400 U.S. at 544, 91 S.Ct. 496. Would the employers have us reverse those cases on the theory that Congress could have spoken to those problems more specifically? Of course not. As enacted, Title VII prohibits all forms of discrimination because of sex, however they may manifest themselves or whatever other labels might attach to them.

The employers try the same point another way. Since 1964, they observe, Congress has considered several proposals to add sexual orientation to Title VII's list of protected characteristics, but no such amendment has become law. Meanwhile, Congress has enacted other statutes addressing other topics that do discuss sexual orientation. This postenactment legislative history, they urge, should tell us something. Cf. post , at 1754 - 1755, 1776 - 1778 (ALITO, J., dissenting); post , at 1823 - 1824, 1830 - 1831 (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting).

But what? There's no authoritative evidence explaining why later Congresses adopted other laws referencing sexual orientation but didn't amend this one. Maybe some in the later legislatures understood the impact Title VII's broad language already promised for cases like ours and didn't think a revision needed. Maybe others knew about its impact but hoped no one else would notice. Maybe still others, occupied by other concerns, didn't consider the issue at all. All we can know for certain is that speculation about why a later Congress declined to adopt new legislation offers a "particularly dangerous" basis on which to rest an interpretation of an existing law a different and earlier Congress did adopt. Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation v. LTV Corp. , 496 U.S. 633, 650, 110 S.Ct. 2668, 110 L.Ed.2d 579 (1990) ; see also United States v. Wells , 519 U.S. 482, 496, 117 S.Ct. 921, 137 L.Ed.2d 107 (1997) ; Sullivan v. Finkelstein , 496 U.S. 617, 632, 110 S.Ct. 2658, 110 L.Ed.2d 563 (1990) (Scalia, J., concurring) ("Arguments based on subsequent legislative history ... should not be taken seriously, not even in a footnote").

That leaves the employers to seek a different sort of exception. Maybe the traditional and simple but-for causation test should apply in all other Title VII cases, but it just doesn't work when it comes to cases involving homosexual and transgender employees. The test is too blunt to capture the nuances here. The employers illustrate their concern with an example. When we apply the simple test to Mr. Bostock-asking whether Mr. Bostock, a man attracted to other men, would have been fired had he been a woman-we don't just change his sex. Along the way, we change his sexual orientation too (from homosexual to heterosexual). If the aim is to isolate whether a plaintiff 's sex caused the dismissal, the employers stress, we must hold sexual orientation constant-meaning we need to change both his sex and the sex to which he is attracted. So for Mr. Bostock, the question should be whether he would've been fired if he were *1748a woman attracted to women. And because his employer would have been as quick to fire a lesbian as it was a gay man, the employers conclude, no Title VII violation has occurred.

While the explanation is new, the mistakes are the same. The employers might be onto something if Title VII only ensured equal treatment between groups of men and women or if the statute applied only when sex is the sole or primary reason for an employer's challenged adverse employment action. But both of these premises are mistaken. Title VII's plain terms and our precedents don't care if an employer treats men and women comparably as groups; an employer who fires both lesbians and gay men equally doesn't diminish but doubles its liability. Just cast a glance back to Manhart , where it was no defense that the employer sought to equalize pension contributions based on life expectancy. Nor does the statute care if other factors besides sex contribute to an employer's discharge decision. Mr. Bostock's employer might have decided to fire him only because of the confluence of two factors, his sex and the sex to which he is attracted. But exactly the same might have been said in Phillips , where motherhood was the added variable.

Still, the employers insist, something seems different here. Unlike certain other employment policies this Court has addressed that harmed only women or only men, the employers' policies in the cases before us have the same adverse consequences for men and women. How could sex be necessary to the result if a member of the opposite sex might face the same outcome from the same policy?

What the employers see as unique isn't even unusual. Often in life and law two but-for factors combine to yield a result that could have also occurred in some other way. Imagine that it's a nice day outside and your house is too warm, so you decide to open the window. Both the cool temperature outside and the heat inside are but-for causes of your choice to open the window. That doesn't change just because you also would have opened the window had it been warm outside and cold inside. In either case, no one would deny that the window is open "because of" the outside temperature. Our cases are much the same. So, for example, when it comes to homosexual employees, male sex and attraction to men are but-for factors that can combine to get them fired. The fact that female sex and attraction to women can also get an employee fired does no more than show the same outcome can be achieved through the combination of different factors. In either case, though, sex plays an essential but-for role.

At bottom, the employers' argument unavoidably comes down to a suggestion that sex must be the sole or primary cause of an adverse employment action for Title VII liability to follow. And, as we've seen, that suggestion is at odds with everything we know about the statute. Consider an employer eager to revive the workplace gender roles of the 1950s. He enforces a policy that he will hire only men as mechanics and only women as secretaries. When a qualified woman applies for a mechanic position and is denied, the "simple test" immediately spots the discrimination: A qualified man would have been given the job, so sex was a but-for cause of the employer's refusal to hire. But like the employers before us today, this employer would say not so fast. By comparing the woman who applied to be a mechanic to a man who applied to be a mechanic, we've quietly changed two things: the applicant's sex and her trait of failing to conform to 1950s gender roles. The "simple test" thus overlooks that it is really the applicant's bucking of 1950s gender roles, not her sex, *1749doing the work. So we need to hold that second trait constant: Instead of comparing the disappointed female applicant to a man who applied for the same position, the employer would say, we should compare her to a man who applied to be a secretary. And because that jobseeker would be refused too, this must not be sex discrimination.

No one thinks that , so the employers must scramble to justify deploying a stricter causation test for use only in cases involving discrimination based on sexual orientation or transgender status. Such a rule would create a curious discontinuity in our case law, to put it mildly. Employer hires based on sexual stereotypes? Simple test. Employer sets pension contributions based on sex? Simple test. Employer fires men who do not behave in a sufficiently masculine way around the office? Simple test. But when that same employer discriminates against women who are attracted to women, or persons identified at birth as women who later identify as men, we suddenly roll out a new and more rigorous standard? Why are these reasons for taking sex into account different from all the rest? Title VII's text can offer no answer.

B

Ultimately, the employers are forced to abandon the statutory text and precedent altogether and appeal to assumptions and policy. Most pointedly, they contend that few in 1964 would have expected Title VII to apply to discrimination against homosexual and transgender persons. And whatever the text and our precedent indicate, they say, shouldn't this fact cause us to pause before recognizing liability?

It might be tempting to reject this argument out of hand. This Court has explained many times over many years that, when the meaning of the statute's terms is plain, our job is at an end. The people are entitled to rely on the law as written, without fearing that courts might disregard its plain terms based on some extratextual consideration. See, e.g. , Carcieri v. Salazar , 555 U.S. 379, 387, 129 S.Ct. 1058, 172 L.Ed.2d 791 (2009) ; Connecticut Nat. Bank v. Germain , 503 U.S. 249, 253-254, 112 S.Ct. 1146, 117 L.Ed.2d 391 (1992) ; Rubin v. United States , 449 U.S. 424, 430, 101 S.Ct. 698, 66 L.Ed.2d 633 (1981). Of course, some Members of this Court have consulted legislative history when interpreting ambiguous statutory language. Cf. post , at 1775 (ALITO, J., dissenting). But that has no bearing here. "Legislative history, for those who take it into account, is meant to clear up ambiguity, not create it." Milner v. Department of Navy , 562 U.S. 562, 574, 131 S.Ct. 1259, 179 L.Ed.2d 268 (2011). And as we have seen, no ambiguity exists about how Title VII's terms apply to the facts before us. To be sure, the statute's application in these cases reaches "beyond the principal evil" legislators may have intended or expected to address. Oncale , 523 U.S. at 79, 118 S.Ct. 998. But " 'the fact that [a statute] has been applied in situations not expressly anticipated by Congress' " does not demonstrate ambiguity; instead, it simply " 'demonstrates [the] breadth' " of a legislative command. Sedima , S.P.R.L. v. Imrex Co ., 473 U.S. 479, 499, 105 S.Ct. 3275, 87 L.Ed.2d 346 (1985). And "it is ultimately the provisions of " those legislative commands "rather than the principal concerns of our legislators by which we are governed." Oncale , 523 U.S. at 79, 118 S.Ct. 998 ; see also A. Scalia & B. Garner, Reading Law: The Interpretation of Legal Texts 101 (2012) (noting that unexpected applications of broad language reflect only Congress's "presumed point [to] produce general coverage-not to leave room for courts to recognize ad hoc exceptions").

*1750Still, while legislative history can never defeat unambiguous statutory text, historical sources can be useful for a different purpose: Because the law's ordinary meaning at the time of enactment usually governs, we must be sensitive to the possibility a statutory term that means one thing today or in one context might have meant something else at the time of its adoption or might mean something different in another context. And we must be attuned to the possibility that a statutory phrase ordinarily bears a different meaning than the terms do when viewed individually or literally. To ferret out such shifts in linguistic usage or subtle distinctions between literal and ordinary meaning, this Court has sometimes consulted the understandings of the law's drafters as some (not always conclusive) evidence. For example, in the context of the National Motor Vehicle Theft Act, this Court admitted that the term "vehicle" in 1931 could literally mean "a conveyance working on land, water or air." McBoyle v. United States , 283 U.S. 25, 26, 51 S.Ct. 340, 75 L.Ed. 816 (1931). But given contextual clues and "everyday speech" at the time of the Act's adoption in 1919, this Court concluded that "vehicles" in that statute included only things "moving on land," not airplanes too. Ibid . Similarly, in New Prime , we held that, while the term "contracts of employment" today might seem to encompass only contracts with employees, at the time of the statute's adoption the phrase was ordinarily understood to cover contracts with independent contractors as well. 586 U.S., at 1825 - 1826, 139 S.Ct., at 538-540. Cf. post, at ---- - ---- (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting) (providing additional examples).

The employers, however, advocate nothing like that here. They do not seek to use historical sources to illustrate that the meaning of any of Title VII's language has changed since 1964 or that the statute's terms, whether viewed individually or as a whole, ordinarily carried some message we have missed. To the contrary, as we have seen, the employers agree with our understanding of all the statutory language-"discriminate against any individual ... because of such individual's ... sex." Nor do the competing dissents offer an alternative account about what these terms mean either when viewed individually or in the aggregate. Rather than suggesting that the statutory language bears some other meaning , the employers and dissents merely suggest that, because few in 1964 expected today's result , we should not dare to admit that it follows ineluctably from the statutory text. When a new application emerges that is both unexpected and important, they would seemingly have us merely point out the question, refer the subject back to Congress, and decline to enforce the plain terms of the law in the meantime.

That is exactly the sort of reasoning this Court has long rejected. Admittedly, the employers take pains to couch their argument in terms of seeking to honor the statute's "expected applications" rather than vindicate its "legislative intent." But the concepts are closely related. One could easily contend that legislators only intended expected applications or that a statute's purpose is limited to achieving applications foreseen at the time of enactment. However framed, the employer's logic impermissibly seeks to displace the plain meaning of the law in favor of something lying beyond it.

If anything, the employers' new framing may only add new problems. The employers assert that "no one" in 1964 or for some time after would have anticipated today's result. But is that really true? Not long after the law's passage, gay and transgender employees began filing Title VII complaints, so at least some people *1751foresaw this potential application. See, e.g. , Smith v. Liberty Mut. Ins. Co. , 395 F.Supp. 1098, 1099 (ND Ga. 1975) (addressing claim from 1969); Holloway v. Arthur Andersen & Co. , 566 F.2d 659, 661 (CA9 1977) (addressing claim from 1974). And less than a decade after Title VII's passage, during debates over the Equal Rights Amendment, others counseled that its language-which was strikingly similar to Title VII's-might also protect homosexuals from discrimination. See, e.g. , Note, The Legality of Homosexual Marriage, 82 Yale L. J. 573, 583-584 (1973).

Why isn't that enough to demonstrate that today's result isn't totally unexpected? How many people have to foresee the application for it to qualify as "expected"? Do we look only at the moment the statute was enacted, or do we allow some time for the implications of a new statute to be worked out? Should we consider the expectations of those who had no reason to give a particular application any thought or only those with reason to think about the question? How do we account for those who change their minds over time, after learning new facts or hearing a new argument? How specifically or generally should we frame the "application" at issue? None of these questions have obvious answers, and the employers don't propose any.

One could also reasonably fear that objections about unexpected applications will not be deployed neutrally. Often lurking just behind such objections resides a cynicism that Congress could not possibly have meant to protect a disfavored group. Take this Court's encounter with the Americans with Disabilities Act's directive that no " 'public entity' " can discriminate against any " 'qualified individual with a disability.' " Pennsylvania Dept. of Corrections v. Yeskey , 524 U.S. 206, 208, 118 S.Ct. 1952, 141 L.Ed.2d 215 (1998). Congress, of course, didn't list every public entity the statute would apply to. And no one batted an eye at its application to, say, post offices. But when the statute was applied to prisons , curiously, some demanded a closer look: Pennsylvania argued that "Congress did not 'envisio[n] that the ADA would be applied to state prisoners.' " Id ., at 211-212, 118 S.Ct. 1952. This Court emphatically rejected that view, explaining that, "in the context of an unambiguous statutory text," whether a specific application was anticipated by Congress "is irrelevant." Id. , at 212, 118 S.Ct. 1952. As Yeskey and today's cases exemplify, applying protective laws to groups that were politically unpopular at the time of the law's passage-whether prisoners in the 1990s or homosexual and transgender employees in the 1960s-often may be seen as unexpected. But to refuse enforcement just because of that, because the parties before us happened to be unpopular at the time of the law's passage, would not only require us to abandon our role as interpreters of statutes; it would tilt the scales of justice in favor of the strong or popular and neglect the promise that all persons are entitled to the benefit of the law's terms. Cf. post , at 1769 - 1773 (ALITO, J., dissenting); post, at 1833 - 1834 (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting).

The employer's position also proves too much. If we applied Title VII's plain text only to applications some (yet-to-be-determined) group expected in 1964, we'd have more than a little law to overturn. Start with Oncale . How many people in 1964 could have expected that the law would turn out to protect male employees? Let alone to protect them from harassment by other male employees? As we acknowledged at the time, "male-on-male sexual harassment in the workplace was assuredly not the principal evil Congress was concerned with when it enacted Title VII." 523 U.S. at 79, 118 S.Ct. 998. Yet the Court did not hesitate to recognize that *1752Title VII's plain terms forbade it. Under the employer's logic, it would seem this was a mistake.

That's just the beginning of the law we would have to unravel. As one Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) Commissioner observed shortly after the law's passage, the words of " 'the sex provision of Title VII [are] difficult to ... control.' " Franklin, Inventing the "Traditional Concept" of Sex Discrimination, 125 Harv. L. Rev. 1307, 1338 (2012) (quoting Federal Mediation Service To Play Role in Implementing Title VII, [1965-1968 Transfer Binder] CCH Employment Practices ¶8046, p. 6074). The "difficult[y]" may owe something to the initial proponent of the sex discrimination rule in Title VII, Representative Howard Smith. On some accounts, the congressman may have wanted (or at least was indifferent to the possibility of) broad language with wide-ranging effect. Not necessarily because he was interested in rooting out sex discrimination in all its forms, but because he may have hoped to scuttle the whole Civil Rights Act and thought that adding language covering sex discrimination would serve as a poison pill. See C. Whalen & B. Whalen, The Longest Debate: A Legislative History of the 1964 Civil Rights Act 115-118 (1985). Certainly nothing in the meager legislative history of this provision suggests it was meant to be read narrowly.

Whatever his reasons, thanks to the broad language Representative Smith introduced, many, maybe most, applications of Title VII's sex provision were "unanticipated" at the time of the law's adoption. In fact, many now-obvious applications met with heated opposition early on, even among those tasked with enforcing the law. In the years immediately following Title VII's passage, the EEOC officially opined that listing men's positions and women's positions separately in job postings was simply helpful rather than discriminatory. Franklin, 125 Harv. L. Rev., at 1340 (citing Press Release, EEOC (Sept. 22, 1965)). Some courts held that Title VII did not prevent an employer from firing an employee for refusing his sexual advances. See, e.g. , Barnes v. Train , 1974 WL 10628, *1 (D DC, Aug. 9, 1974). And courts held that a policy against hiring mothers but not fathers of young children wasn't discrimination because of sex. See Phillips v. Martin Marietta Corp. , 411 F.2d 1 (CA5 1969), rev'd, 400 U.S. 542, 91 S.Ct. 496, 27 L.Ed.2d 613 (1971) (per curiam ).

Over time, though, the breadth of the statutory language proved too difficult to deny. By the end of the 1960s, the EEOC reversed its stance on sex-segregated job advertising. See Franklin, 125 Harv. L. Rev., at 1345. In 1971, this Court held that treating women with children differently from men with children violated Title VII. Phillips , 400 U.S. at 544, 91 S.Ct. 496. And by the late 1970s, courts began to recognize that sexual harassment can sometimes amount to sex discrimination. See, e.g. , Barnes v. Costle , 561 F.2d 983, 990 (CADC 1977). While to the modern eye each of these examples may seem "plainly [to] constitut[e] discrimination because of biological sex," post , at 1774 - 1775 (ALITO, J., dissenting), all were hotly contested for years following Title VII's enactment. And as with the discrimination we consider today, many federal judges long accepted interpretations of Title VII that excluded these situations. Cf. post , at 1833 - 1834 (KAVANAUGH, J., dissenting) (highlighting that certain lower courts have rejected Title VII claims based on homosexuality and transgender status). Would the employers have us undo every one of these unexpected applications too?

*1753The weighty implications of the employers' argument from expectations also reveal why they cannot hide behind the no-elephants-in-mouseholes canon. That canon recognizes that Congress "does not alter the fundamental details of a regulatory scheme in vague terms or ancillary provisions." Whitman v. American Trucking Assns. , Inc., 531 U.S. 457, 468, 121 S.Ct. 903, 149 L.Ed.2d 1 (2001). But it has no relevance here. We can't deny that today's holding-that employers are prohibited from firing employees on the basis of homosexuality or transgender status-is an elephant. But where's the mousehole? Title VII's prohibition of sex discrimination in employment is a major piece of federal civil rights legislation. It is written in starkly broad terms. It has repeatedly produced unexpected applications, at least in the view of those on the receiving end of them. Congress's key drafting choices-to focus on discrimination against individuals and not merely between groups and to hold employers liable whenever sex is a but-for cause of the plaintiff 's injuries-virtually guaranteed that unexpected applications would emerge over time. This elephant has never hidden in a mousehole; it has been standing before us all along.

With that, the employers are left to abandon their concern for expected applications and fall back to the last line of defense for all failing statutory interpretation arguments: naked policy appeals. If we were to apply the statute's plain language, they complain, any number of undesirable policy consequences would follow. Cf. post , at 1778 - 1784 (ALITO, J., dissenting). Gone here is any pretense of statutory interpretation; all that's left is a suggestion we should proceed without the law's guidance to do as we think best. But that's an invitation no court should ever take up. The place to make new legislation, or address unwanted consequences of old legislation, lies in Congress. When it comes to statutory interpretation, our role is limited to applying the law's demands as faithfully as we can in the cases that come before us. As judges we possess no special expertise or authority to declare for ourselves what a self-governing people should consider just or wise. And the same judicial humility that requires us to refrain from adding to statutes requires us to refrain from diminishing them.

What are these consequences anyway? The employers worry that our decision will sweep beyond Title VII to other federal or state laws that prohibit sex discrimination. And, under Title VII itself, they say sex-segregated bathrooms, locker rooms, and dress codes will prove unsustainable after our decision today. But none of these other laws are before us; we have not had the benefit of adversarial testing about the meaning of their terms, and we do not prejudge any such question today. Under Title VII, too, we do not purport to address bathrooms, locker rooms, or anything else of the kind. The only question before us is whether an employer who fires someone simply for being homosexual or transgender has discharged or otherwise discriminated against that individual "because of such individual's sex." As used in Title VII, the term " 'discriminate against' " refers to "distinctions or differences in treatment that injure protected individuals." Burlington N. & S.F.R. , 548 U.S. at 59, 126 S.Ct. 2405. Firing employees because of a statutorily protected trait surely counts. Whether other policies and practices might or might not qualify as unlawful discrimination or find justifications under other provisions of Title VII are questions for future cases, not these.

Separately, the employers fear that complying with Title VII's requirement in cases like ours may require some employers to violate their religious convictions.

*1754We are also deeply concerned with preserving the promise of the free exercise of religion enshrined in our Constitution; that guarantee lies at the heart of our pluralistic society. But worries about how Title VII may intersect with religious liberties are nothing new; they even predate the statute's passage. As a result of its deliberations in adopting the law, Congress included an express statutory exception for religious organizations. § 2000e-1(a). This Court has also recognized that the First Amendment can bar the application of employment discrimination laws "to claims concerning the employment relationship between a religious institution and its ministers." Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church and School v. EEOC , 565 U.S. 171, 188, 132 S.Ct. 694, 181 L.Ed.2d 650 (2012). And Congress has gone a step further yet in the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993 (RFRA), 107 Stat. 1488, codified at 42 U.S.C. § 2000bb et seq. That statute prohibits the federal government from substantially burdening a person's exercise of religion unless it demonstrates that doing so both furthers a compelling governmental interest and represents the least restrictive means of furthering that interest. § 2000bb-1. Because RFRA operates as a kind of super statute, displacing the normal operation of other federal laws, it might supersede Title VII's commands in appropriate cases. See § 2000bb-3.

But how these doctrines protecting religious liberty interact with Title VII are questions for future cases too. Harris Funeral Homes did unsuccessfully pursue a RFRA-based defense in the proceedings below. In its certiorari petition, however, the company declined to seek review of that adverse decision, and no other religious liberty claim is now before us. So while other employers in other cases may raise free exercise arguments that merit careful consideration, none of the employers before us today represent in this Court that compliance with Title VII will infringe their own religious liberties in any way.

*

Some of those who supported adding language to Title VII to ban sex discrimination may have hoped it would derail the entire Civil Rights Act. Yet, contrary to those intentions, the bill became law. Since then, Title VII's effects have unfolded with far-reaching consequences, some likely beyond what many in Congress or elsewhere expected.

But none of this helps decide today's cases. Ours is a society of written laws. Judges are not free to overlook plain statutory commands on the strength of nothing more than suppositions about intentions or guesswork about expectations. In Title VII, Congress adopted broad language making it illegal for an employer to rely on an employee's sex when deciding to fire that employee. We do not hesitate to recognize today a necessary consequence of that legislative choice: An employer who fires an individual merely for being gay or transgender defies the law.

The judgments of the Second and Sixth Circuits in Nos. 17-1623 and 18-107 are affirmed. The judgment of the Eleventh Circuit in No. 17-1618 is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Justice ALITO, with whom Justice THOMAS joins, dissenting.

There is only one word for what the Court has done today: legislation. The document that the Court releases is in the form of a judicial opinion interpreting a statute, but that is deceptive.

Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits employment discrimination on *1755any of five specified grounds: "race, color, religion, sex, [and] national origin." 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(a)(1). Neither "sexual orientation" nor "gender identity" appears on that list. For the past 45 years, bills have been introduced in Congress to add "sexual orientation" to the list,1 and in recent years, bills have included "gender identity" as well.2 But to date, none has passed both Houses.

Last year, the House of Representatives passed a bill that would amend Title VII by defining sex discrimination to include both "sexual orientation" and "gender identity," H.R. 5, 116th Cong., 1st Sess. (2019), but the bill has stalled in the Senate. An alternative bill, H.R. 5331, 116th Cong., 1st Sess. (2019), would add similar prohibitions but contains provisions to protect religious liberty.3 This bill remains before a House Subcommittee.

Because no such amendment of Title VII has been enacted in accordance with the requirements in the Constitution (passage in both Houses and presentment to the President, Art. I, § 7, cl. 2), Title VII's prohibition of discrimination because of "sex" still means what it has always meant. But the Court is not deterred by these constitutional niceties. Usurping the constitutional authority of the other branches, the Court has essentially taken H.R. 5's provision on employment discrimination and issued it under the guise of statutory interpretation.4 A more brazen abuse of our authority to interpret statutes is hard to recall.

The Court tries to convince readers that it is merely enforcing the terms of the statute, but that is preposterous. Even as understood today, the concept of discrimination because of "sex" is different from discrimination because of "sexual orientation" or "gender identity." And in any event, our duty is to interpret statutory terms to "mean what they conveyed to reasonable people at the time they were written ." A. Scalia & B. Garner, Reading Law: The Interpretation of Legal Texts 16 (2012) (emphasis added). If every single living American had been surveyed in 1964, it would have been hard to find any who thought that discrimination because of sex meant discrimination because of sexual orientation--not to mention gender identity, a concept that was essentially unknown at the time.

The Court attempts to pass off its decision as the inevitable product of the textualist school of statutory interpretation championed by our late colleague Justice Scalia, but no one should be fooled. The Court's opinion is like a pirate ship. It sails under a textualist flag, but what it actually *1756represents is a theory of statutory interpretation that Justice Scalia excoriated--the theory that courts should "update" old statutes so that they better reflect the current values of society. See A. Scalia, A Matter of Interpretation 22

(1997). If the Court finds it appropriate to adopt this theory, it should own up to what it is doing.5

Many will applaud today's decision because they agree on policy grounds with the Court's updating of Title VII. But the question in these cases is not whether discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity should be outlawed. The question is whether Congress did that in 1964 .

It indisputably did not.

I

A

Title VII, as noted, prohibits discrimination "because of ... sex," § 2000e-2(a)(1), and in 1964, it was as clear as clear could be that this meant discrimination because of the genetic and anatomical characteristics that men and women have at the time of birth. Determined searching has not found a single dictionary from that time that defined "sex" to mean sexual orientation, gender identity, or "transgender status."6 Ante , at 1737. (Appendix A, infra , to this opinion includes the full definitions of "sex" in the unabridged dictionaries in use in the 1960s.)

In all those dictionaries, the primary definition of "sex" was essentially the same as that in the then-most recent edition of Webster's New International Dictionary 2296 (def. 1) (2d ed. 1953): "[o]ne of the two divisions of organisms formed on the distinction of male and female." See also American Heritage Dictionary 1187 (def. 1(a)) (1969) ("The property or quality by which organisms are classified according to their reproductive functions"); Random House Dictionary of the English Language 1307 (def. 1) (1966) (Random House Dictionary) ("the fact or character of being either male or female"); 9 Oxford English Dictionary 577 (def. 1) (1933) ("Either of the two divisions of organic beings distinguished as male and female respectively").

The Court does not dispute that this is what "sex" means in Title VII, although it coyly suggests that there is at least some support for a different and potentially relevant definition. Ante , at 1739. (I address alternative definitions below. See Part I-B-3, infra .) But the Court declines to stand on that ground and instead "proceed[s] on the assumption that 'sex' ...

*1757refer[s] only to biological distinctions between male and female." Ante , at 1739.

If that is so, it should be perfectly clear that Title VII does not reach discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity. If "sex" in Title VII means biologically male or female, then discrimination because of sex means discrimination because the person in question is biologically male or biologically female, not because that person is sexually attracted to members of the same sex or identifies as a member of a particular gender.

How then does the Court claim to avoid that conclusion? The Court tries to cloud the issue by spending many pages discussing matters that are beside the point. The Court observes that a Title VII plaintiff need not show that "sex" was the sole or primary motive for a challenged employment decision or its sole or primary cause; that Title VII is limited to discrimination with respect to a list of specified actions (such as hiring, firing, etc.); and that Title VII protects individual rights, not group rights. See ante , at 1739 - 1741, 1742.

All that is true, but so what? In cases like those before us, a plaintiff must show that sex was a "motivating factor" in the challenged employment action, 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(m), so the question we must decide comes down to this: if an individual employee or applicant for employment shows that his or her sexual orientation or gender identity was a "motivating factor" in a hiring or discharge decision, for example, is that enough to establish that the employer discriminated "because of ... sex"? Or, to put the same question in different terms, if an employer takes an employment action solely because of the sexual orientation or gender identity of an employee or applicant, has that employer necessarily discriminated because of biological sex?

The answers to those questions must be no, unless discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity inherently constitutes discrimination because of sex. The Court attempts to prove that point, and it argues, not merely that the terms of Title VII can be interpreted that way but that they cannot reasonably be interpreted any other way . According to the Court, the text is unambiguous. See ante , at 1749 - 1750, 1751, 1752 - 1753.

The arrogance of this argument is breathtaking. As I will show, there is not a shred of evidence that any Member of Congress interpreted the statutory text that way when Title VII was enacted. See Part III-B, infra . But the Court apparently thinks that this was because the Members were not "smart enough to realize" what its language means. Hively v. Ivy Tech Community College of Ind. , 853 F.3d 339, 357 (CA7 2017) (Posner, J., concurring). The Court seemingly has the same opinion about our colleagues on the Courts of Appeals, because until 2017, every single Court of Appeals to consider the question interpreted Title VII's prohibition against sex discrimination to mean discrimination on the basis of biological sex. See Part III-C, infra . And for good measure, the Court's conclusion that Title VII unambiguously reaches discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity necessarily means that the EEOC failed to see the obvious for the first 48 years after Title VII became law.7 Day in *1758and day out, the Commission enforced Title VII but did not grasp what discrimination "because of ... sex" unambiguously means. See Part III-C, infra .

The Court's argument is not only arrogant, it is wrong. It fails on its own terms. "Sex," "sexual orientation," and "gender identity" are different concepts, as the Court concedes. Ante , at 1746 - 1747 ("homosexuality and transgender status are distinct concepts from sex"). And neither "sexual orientation" nor "gender identity" is tied to either of the two biological sexes. See ante , at 1742 (recognizing that "discrimination on these bases" does not have "some disparate impact on one sex or another"). Both men and women may be attracted to members of the opposite sex, members of the same sex, or members of both sexes.8 And individuals who are born with the genes and organs of either biological sex may identify with a different gender.9

Using slightly different terms, the Court asserts again and again that discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity inherently or necessarily entails discrimination because of sex. See ante , at 1737 (When an employer "fires an individual for being homosexual or transgender," "[s]ex plays a necessary and undisguisable role in the decision"); ante , at 1741 ("[I]t is impossible to discriminate against a person for being homosexual or transgender without discriminating against that individual based on sex"); ante , at 1742 ("[W]hen an employer discriminates against homosexual or transgender employees, [the] employer ... inescapably intends to rely on sex in its decisionmaking"); ante , at 1743 ("For an employer to discriminate against employees for being homosexual or transgender, the employer must intentionally discriminate against individual men and women in part because of sex"); ante , at 1744 ("When an employer fires an employee for being homosexual or transgender, it necessarily and intentionally discriminates against that individual in part because of sex"); ante , at 1747 ("[D]iscrimination based on homosexuality or transgender status necessarily entails discrimination based on sex"). But repetition of an assertion does not make it so, and the Court's repeated assertion is demonstrably untrue.

Contrary to the Court's contention, discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity does not in and of itself entail discrimination because of sex. We can see this because it is quite possible for an employer to discriminate on those grounds without taking the sex of an individual applicant or employee into account. An employer can have a policy that says: "We do not hire gays, lesbians, or transgender individuals." And an employer can implement this policy without paying any attention to or even knowing the biological sex of gay, lesbian, and transgender applicants. In fact, at the time of the enactment of Title VII, the United States military had a blanket policy of refusing to enlist gays *1759or lesbians, and under this policy for years thereafter, applicants for enlistment were required to complete a form that asked whether they were "homosexual." Appendix D, infra , at 1803, 1816.

At oral argument, the attorney representing the employees, a prominent professor of constitutional law, was asked if there would be discrimination because of sex if an employer with a blanket policy against hiring gays, lesbians, and transgender individuals implemented that policy without knowing the biological sex of any job applicants. Her candid answer was that this would "not" be sex discrimination.10 And she was right.

The attorney's concession was necessary, but it is fatal to the Court's interpretation, for if an employer discriminates against individual applicants or employees without even knowing whether they are male or female, it is impossible to argue that the employer intentionally discriminated because of sex. Contra, ante , at 1746 - 1747. An employer cannot intentionally discriminate on the basis of a characteristic of which the employer has no knowledge. And if an employer does not violate Title VII by discriminating on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity without knowing the sex of the affected individuals, there is no reason why the same employer could not lawfully implement the same policy even if it knows the sex of these individuals. If an employer takes an adverse employment action for a perfectly legitimate reason-for example, because an employee stole company property-that action is not converted into sex discrimination simply because the employer knows the employee's sex. As explained, a disparate treatment case requires proof of intent-i.e., that the employee's sex motivated the firing. In short, what this example shows is that discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity does not inherently or necessarily entail discrimination because of sex, and for that reason, the Court's chief argument collapses.

Trying to escape the consequences of the attorney's concession, the Court offers its own hypothetical:

"Suppose an employer's application form offered a single box to check if the applicant is either black or Catholic. If the employer refuses to hire anyone who checks that box, would we conclude the employer has complied with Title VII, so long as it studiously avoids learning any particular applicant's race or religion? Of course not." Ante , at 1746.

How this hypothetical proves the Court's point is a mystery. A person who checked that box would presumably be black, Catholic, or both, and refusing to hire an applicant because of race or religion is prohibited by Title VII. Rejecting applicants who checked a box indicating that they are homosexual is entirely different because it is impossible to tell from that answer whether an applicant is male or female.

The Court follows this strange hypothetical with an even stranger argument. The Court argues that an applicant could not answer the question whether he or she is homosexual without knowing something about sex. If the applicant was unfamiliar with the term "homosexual," the applicant would have to look it up or ask what the term means. And because this applicant would have to take into account his or her sex and that of the persons to whom he or *1760she is sexually attracted to answer the question, it follows, the Court reasons, that an employer could not reject this applicant without taking the applicant's sex into account. See ante , at 1746 - 1747.

This is illogical. Just because an applicant cannot say whether he or she is homosexual without knowing his or her own sex and that of the persons to whom the applicant is attracted, it does not follow that an employer cannot reject an applicant based on homosexuality without knowing the applicant's sex.

While the Court's imagined application form proves nothing, another hypothetical case offered by the Court is telling. But what it proves is not what the Court thinks. The Court posits:

"Imagine an employer who has a policy of firing any employee known to be homosexual. The employer hosts an office holiday party and invites employees to bring their spouses. A model employee arrives and introduces a manager to Susan, the employee's wife. Will that employee be fired? If the policy works as the employer intends, the answer depends entirely on whether the model employee is a man or a woman." Ante , at 1742.

This example disproves the Court's argument because it is perfectly clear that the employer's motivation in firing the female employee had nothing to do with that employee's sex. The employer presumably knew that this employee was a woman before she was invited to the fateful party. Yet the employer, far from holding her biological sex against her, rated her a "model employee." At the party, the employer learned something new, her sexual orientation, and it was this new information that motivated her discharge. So this is another example showing that discrimination because of sexual orientation does not inherently involve discrimination because of sex.

In addition to the failed argument just discussed, the Court makes two other arguments, more or less in passing. The first of these is essentially that sexual orientation and gender identity are closely related to sex. The Court argues that sexual orientation and gender identity are "inextricably bound up with sex," ante , at 1742, and that discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity involves the application of "sex-based rules," ante , at 1745 - 1746. This is a variant of an argument found in many of the briefs filed in support of the employees and in the lower court decisions that agreed with the Court's interpretation. All these variants stress that sex, sexual orientation, and gender identity are related concepts. The Seventh Circuit observed that "[i]t would require considerable calisthenics to remove 'sex' from 'sexual orientation.' " Hively , 853 F.3d at 350.11 The Second Circuit wrote that sex is necessarily "a factor in sexual orientation" and further concluded that "sexual orientation is a function of sex." 883 F.3d 100, 112-113 (CA2 2018) (en banc). Bostock's brief and those of amici supporting his position contend that sexual orientation is "a sex-based consideration."12 Other briefs state that sexual orientation is "a function of sex"13 or is *1761"intrinsically related to sex."14 Similarly, Stephens argues that sex and gender identity are necessarily intertwined: "By definition, a transgender person is someone who lives and identifies with a sex different than the sex assigned to the person at birth."15

It is curious to see this argument in an opinion that purports to apply the purest and highest form of textualism because the argument effectively amends the statutory text. Title VII prohibits discrimination because of sex itself, not everything that is related to, based on, or defined with reference to, "sex." Many things are related to sex. Think of all the nouns other than "orientation" that are commonly modified by the adjective "sexual." Some examples yielded by a quick computer search are "sexual harassment," "sexual assault," "sexual violence," "sexual intercourse," and "sexual content."

Does the Court really think that Title VII prohibits discrimination on all these grounds? Is it unlawful for an employer to refuse to hire an employee with a record of sexual harassment in prior jobs? Or a record of sexual assault or violence?

To be fair, the Court does not claim that Title VII prohibits discrimination because of everything that is related to sex. The Court draws a distinction between things that are "inextricably" related and those that are related in "some vague sense." Ante , at 1741 - 1742. Apparently the Court would graft onto Title VII some arbitrary line separating the things that are related closely enough and those that are not.16 And it would do this in the name of high textualism. An additional argument made in passing also fights the text of Title VII and the policy it reflects. The Court proclaims that "[a]n individual's homosexuality or transgender status is not relevant to employment decisions." Ante , at 1741. That is the policy view of many people in 2020, and perhaps Congress would have amended Title VII to implement it if this Court had not intervened. But that is not the policy embodied in Title VII in its current form. Title VII prohibits discrimination based on five specified grounds, and neither sexual orientation nor gender identity is on the list. As long as an employer does not discriminate based on one of the listed grounds, the employer is free to decide for itself which characteristics are "relevant to [its] employment decisions." Ibid. By proclaiming that sexual orientation and gender identity are "not relevant to employment decisions," the Court updates Title VII to reflect what it regards as 2020 values.

The Court's remaining argument is based on a hypothetical that the Court finds instructive. In this hypothetical, an employer has two employees who are "attracted to men," and "to the employer's mind " the two employees are "materially identical" except that one is a man and the other is a woman. Ante , at 1741 (emphasis added). The Court reasons that if the employer fires the man but not the woman, the employer is necessarily motivated by the man's biological sex. Ante , at 1741 - 1742. After all, if two employees are identical in every respect but sex, and the employer *1762fires only one, what other reason could there be?

The problem with this argument is that the Court loads the dice. That is so because in the mind of an employer who does not want to employ individuals who are attracted to members of the same sex, these two employees are not materially identical in every respect but sex. On the contrary, they differ in another way that the employer thinks is quite material. And until Title VII is amended to add sexual orientation as a prohibited ground, this is a view that an employer is permitted to implement. As noted, other than prohibiting discrimination on any of five specified grounds, "race, color, religion, sex, [and] national origin." 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(a)(1), Title VII allows employers to decide whether two employees are "materially identical." Even idiosyncratic criteria are permitted; if an employer thinks that Scorpios make bad employees, the employer can refuse to hire Scorpios. Such a policy would be unfair and foolish, but under Title VII, it is permitted. And until Title VII is amended, so is a policy against employing gays, lesbians, or transgender individuals.

Once this is recognized, what we have in the Court's hypothetical case are two employees who differ in two ways--sex and sexual orientation--and if the employer fires one and keeps the other, all that can be inferred is that the employer was motivated either entirely by sexual orientation, entirely by sex, or in part by both. We cannot infer with any certainty, as the hypothetical is apparently meant to suggest, that the employer was motivated even in part by sex. The Court harps on the fact that under Title VII a prohibited ground need not be the sole motivation for an adverse employment action, see ante , at 1741 - 1742, 1743 - 1745, 1747 - 1748, but its example does not show that sex necessarily played any part in the employer's thinking.

The Court tries to avoid this inescapable conclusion by arguing that sex is really the only difference between the two employees. This is so, the Court maintains, because both employees "are attracted to men." Ante , at 1741 - 1742. Of course, the employer would couch its objection to the man differently. It would say that its objection was his sexual orientation. So this may appear to leave us with a battle of labels. If the employer's objection to the male employee is characterized as attraction to men, it seems that he is just like the woman in all respects except sex and that the employer's disparate treatment must be based on that one difference. On the other hand, if the employer's objection is sexual orientation or homosexuality, the two employees differ in two respects, and it cannot be inferred that the disparate treatment was due even in part to sex.

The Court insists that its label is the right one, and that presumably is why it makes such a point of arguing that an employer cannot escape liability under Title VII by giving sex discrimination some other name. See ante , at 1743 - 1744, 1745 - 1746. That is certainly true, but so is the opposite. Something that is not sex discrimination cannot be converted into sex discrimination by slapping on that label. So the Court cannot prove its point simply by labeling the employer's objection as "attract[ion] to men." Ante , at 1741 - 1742. Rather, the Court needs to show that its label is the correct one.

And a labeling standoff would not help the Court because that would mean that the bare text of Title VII does not unambiguously show that its interpretation is right. The Court would have no justification for its stubborn refusal to look any further.

*1763As it turns out, however, there is no standoff. It can easily be shown that the employer's real objection is not "attract[ion] to men" but homosexual orientation.

In an effort to prove its point, the Court carefully includes in its example just two employees, a homosexual man and a heterosexual woman, but suppose we add two more individuals, a woman who is attracted to women and a man who is attracted to women. (A large employer will likely have applicants and employees who fall into all four categories, and a small employer can potentially have all four as well.) We now have the four exemplars listed below, with the discharged employees crossed out:

Man attracted to men

Woman attracted to men

Woman attracted to women

Man attracted to women

The discharged employees have one thing in common. It is not biological sex, attraction to men, or attraction to women. It is attraction to members of their own sex-in a word, sexual orientation. And that, we can infer, is the employer's real motive.

In sum, the Court's textual arguments fail on their own terms. The Court tries to prove that "it is impossible to discriminate against a person for being homosexual or transgender without discriminating against that individual based on sex," ante, at 1741, but as has been shown, it is entirely possible for an employer to do just that. "[H]omosexuality and transgender status are distinct concepts from sex," ante , at 1746 - 1747, and discrimination because of sexual orientation or transgender status does not inherently or necessarily constitute discrimination because of sex. The Court's arguments are squarely contrary to the statutory text.

But even if the words of Title VII did not definitively refute the Court's interpretation, that would not justify the Court's refusal to consider alternative interpretations. The Court's excuse for ignoring everything other than the bare statutory text is that the text is unambiguous and therefore no one can reasonably interpret the text in any way other than the Court does. Unless the Court has met that high standard, it has no justification for its blinkered approach. And to say that the Court's interpretation is the only possible reading is indefensible.

B

Although the Court relies solely on the arguments discussed above, several other arguments figure prominently in the decisions of the lower courts and in briefs submitted by or in support of the employees. The Court apparently finds these arguments unpersuasive, and so do I, but for the sake of completeness, I will address them briefly.

1

One argument, which relies on our decision in Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins , 490 U.S. 228, 109 S.Ct. 1775, 104 L.Ed.2d 268 (1989) (plurality opinion), is that discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity violates Title VII because it constitutes prohibited discrimination on the basis of sex stereotypes. See 883 F.3d at 119-123 ; Hively , 853 F.3d at 346 ; 884 F.3d 560, 576-577 (CA6 2018). The argument goes like this. Title VII prohibits discrimination based on stereotypes about the way men and women should behave; the belief that a person should be attracted only to persons of the opposite sex and the belief that a person should identify with his or her biological sex are examples of such stereotypes; therefore, discrimination on either of these grounds is unlawful.

*1764This argument fails because it is based on a faulty premise, namely, that Title VII forbids discrimination based on sex stereotypes. It does not. It prohibits discrimination because of "sex," and the two concepts are not the same. See Price Waterhouse , 490 U.S. at 251, 109 S.Ct. 1775. That does not mean, however, that an employee or applicant for employment cannot prevail by showing that a challenged decision was based on a sex stereotype. Such evidence is relevant to prove discrimination because of sex, and it may be convincing where the trait that is inconsistent with the stereotype is one that would be tolerated and perhaps even valued in a person of the opposite sex. See ibid.

Much of the plaintiff 's evidence in Price Waterhouse was of this nature. The plaintiff was a woman who was passed over for partnership at an accounting firm, and some of the adverse comments about her work appeared to criticize her for being forceful and insufficiently "feminin[e]." Id. , at 235-236, 109 S.Ct. 1775.

The main issue in Price Waterhouse --the proper allocation of the burdens of proof in a so-called mixed motives Title VII case-is not relevant here, but the plurality opinion, endorsed by four Justices, commented on the issue of sex stereotypes. The plurality observed that "sex stereotypes do not inevitably prove that gender played a part in a particular employment decision" but "can certainly be evidence that gender played a part." Id. , at 251, 109 S.Ct. 1775.17 And the plurality made it clear that "[t]he plaintiff must show that the employer actually relied on her gender in making its decision." Ibid.

Plaintiffs who allege that they were treated unfavorably because of their sexual orientation or gender identity are not in the same position as the plaintiff in Price Waterhouse . In cases involving discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity, the grounds for the employer's decision-that individuals should be sexually attracted only to persons of the opposite biological sex or should identify with their biological sex-apply equally to men and women. "[H]eterosexuality is not a female stereotype; it not a male stereotype; it is not a sexspecific stereotype at all." Hively , 853 F.3d at 370 (Sykes, J., dissenting).

To be sure, there may be cases in which a gay, lesbian, or transgender individual can make a claim like the one in Price Waterhouse . That is, there may be cases where traits or behaviors that some people associate with gays, lesbians, or transgender individuals are tolerated or valued in persons of one biological sex but not the other. But that is a different matter.

2

A second prominent argument made in support of the result that the Court now reaches analogizes discrimination against gays and lesbians to discrimination against a person who is married to or has an intimate relationship with a person of a different race. Several lower court cases have held that discrimination on this ground violates Title VII. See, e.g. , Holcomb v. Iona College , 521 F.3d 130 (CA2 2008) ; Parr v. Woodmen of World Life Ins. Co. , 791 F.2d 888 (CA11 1986). And the *1765logic of these decisions, it is argued, applies equally where an employee or applicant is treated unfavorably because he or she is married to, or has an intimate relationship with, a person of the same sex.

This argument totally ignores the historically rooted reason why discrimination on the basis of an interracial relationship constitutes race discrimination. And without taking history into account, it is not easy to see how the decisions in question fit the terms of Title VII.

Recall that Title VII makes it unlawful for an employer to discriminate against an individual "because of such individual's race ." 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(a) (emphasis added). So if an employer is happy to employ whites and blacks but will not employ any employee in an interracial relationship, how can it be said that the employer is discriminating against either whites or blacks "because of such individual's race"? This employer would be applying the same rule to all its employees regardless of their race.

The answer is that this employer is discriminating on a ground that history tells us is a core form of race discrimination.18 "It would require absolute blindness to the history of racial discrimination in this country not to understand what is at stake in such cases .... A prohibition on 'race-mixing' was ... grounded in bigotry against a particular race and was an integral part of preserving the rigid hierarchical distinction that denominated members of the black race as inferior to whites." 883 F.3d at 158-159 (Lynch, J., dissenting).

Discrimination because of sexual orientation is different. It cannot be regarded as a form of sex discrimination on the ground that applies in race cases since discrimination because of sexual orientation is not historically tied to a project that aims to subjugate either men or women. An employer who discriminates on this ground might be called "homophobic" or "transphobic," but not sexist. See Wittmer v. Phillips 66 Co. , 915 F.3d 328, 338 (CA5 2019) (Ho, J., concurring).

3

The opinion of the Court intimates that the term "sex" was not universally understood in 1964 to refer just to the categories of male and female, see ante , at 1739, and while the Court does not take up any alternative definition as a ground for its decision, I will say a word on this subject.

As previously noted, the definitions of "sex" in the unabridged dictionaries in use in the 1960s are reproduced in Appendix A, infra . Anyone who examines those definitions can see that the primary definition in every one of them refers to the division of living things into two groups, male and female, based on biology, and most of the definitions further down the list are the same or very similar. In addition, some definitions refer to heterosexual sex acts. See Random House Dictionary 1307 ("coitus," "sexual intercourse" (defs. 5-6)); American Heritage Dictionary, at 1187 ("sexual intercourse" (def. 5)).19

*1766Aside from these, what is there? One definition, "to neck passionately," Random House Dictionary 1307 (def. 8), refers to sexual conduct that is not necessarily heterosexual. But can it be seriously argued that one of the aims of Title VII is to outlaw employment discrimination against employees, whether heterosexual or homosexual, who engage in necking? And even if Title VII had that effect, that is not what is at issue in cases like those before us.

That brings us to the two remaining subsidiary definitions, both of which refer to sexual urges or instincts and their manifestations. See the fourth definition in the American Heritage Dictionary, at 1187 ("the sexual urge or instinct as it manifests itself in behavior"), and the fourth definition in both Webster's Second and Third ("[p]henomena of sexual instincts and their manifestations," Webster's New International Dictionary, at 2296 (2d ed.); Webster's Third New International Dictionary 2081 (1966)). Since both of these come after three prior definitions that refer to men and women, they are most naturally read to have the same association, and in any event, is it plausible that Title VII prohibits discrimination based on any sexual urge or instinct and its manifestations? The urge to rape?

Viewing all these definitions, the overwhelming impact is that discrimination because of "sex" was understood during the era when Title VII was enacted to refer to men and women. (The same is true of current definitions, which are reproduced in Appendix B, infra .) This no doubt explains why neither this Court nor any of the lower courts have tried to make much of the dictionary definitions of sex just discussed.

II

A

So far, I have not looked beyond dictionary definitions of "sex," but textualists like Justice Scalia do not confine their inquiry to the scrutiny of dictionaries. See Manning, Textualism and the Equity of the Statute, 101 Colum. L. Rev. 1, 109 (2001). Dictionary definitions are valuable because they are evidence of what people at the time of a statute's enactment would have understood its words to mean. Ibid. But they are not the only source of relevant evidence, and what matters in the end is the answer to the question that the evidence is gathered to resolve: How would the terms of a statute have been understood by ordinary people at the time of enactment?

Justice Scalia was perfectly clear on this point. The words of a law, he insisted, "mean what they conveyed to reasonable people at the time. " Reading Law, at 16 (emphasis added).20

Leading proponents of Justice Scalia's school of textualism have expounded on this principle and explained that it is grounded on an understanding of the way language works. As Dean John F. Manning explains, "the meaning of language depends on the way a linguistic community uses words and phrases in context." What Divides Textualists From Purposivists? 106 Colum. L. Rev. 70, 78 (2006). "[O]ne can make sense of others' communications only by placing them in their appropriate social and linguistic context," id ., at 79-80, and this is no less true of statutes than any other verbal communications. "[S]tatutes convey meaning only because members of a relevant linguistic community apply shared background conventions for understanding *1767how particular words are used in particular contexts." Manning, The Absurdity Doctrine, 116 Harv. L. Rev. 2387, 2457 (2003). Therefore, judges should ascribe to the words of a statute "what a reasonable person conversant with applicable social conventions would have understood them to be adopting." Manning, 106 Colum. L. Rev., at 77. Or, to put the point in slightly different terms, a judge interpreting a statute should ask " 'what one would ordinarily be understood as saying, given the circumstances in which one said it.' " Manning, 116 Harv. L. Rev., at 2397-2398.

Judge Frank Easterbrook has made the same points:

"Words are arbitrary signs, having meaning only to the extent writers and readers share an understanding.... Language in general, and legislation in particular, is a social enterprise to which both speakers and listeners contribute, drawing on background understandings and the structure and circumstances of the utterance." Herrmann v. Cencom Cable Assocs., Inc. , 978 F.2d 978, 982 (CA7 1992).

Consequently, "[s]licing a statute into phrases while ignoring ... the setting of the enactment ... is a formula for disaster." Ibid . ; see also Continental Can Co. v. Chicago Truck Drivers, Helpers and Warehouse Workers Union (Independent) Pension Fund , 916 F.2d 1154, 1157 (CA7 1990) ("You don't have to be Ludwig Wittgenstein or Hans-Georg Gadamer to know that successful communication depends on meanings shared by interpretive communities").

Thus, when textualism is properly understood, it calls for an examination of the social context in which a statute was enacted because this may have an important bearing on what its words were understood to mean at the time of enactment. Textualists do not read statutes as if they were messages picked up by a powerful radio telescope from a distant and utterly unknown civilization. Statutes consist of communications between members of a particular linguistic community, one that existed in a particular place and at a particular time, and these communications must therefore be interpreted as they were understood by that community at that time.

For this reason, it is imperative to consider how Americans in 1964 would have understood Title VII's prohibition of discrimination because of sex. To get a picture of this, we may imagine this scene. Suppose that, while Title VII was under consideration in Congress, a group of average Americans decided to read the text of the bill with the aim of writing or calling their representatives in Congress and conveying their approval or disapproval. What would these ordinary citizens have taken "discrimination because of sex" to mean? Would they have thought that this language prohibited discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity?

B

The answer could not be clearer. In 1964, ordinary Americans reading the text of Title VII would not have dreamed that discrimination because of sex meant discrimination because of sexual orientation, much less gender identity. The ordinary meaning of discrimination because of "sex" was discrimination because of a person's biological sex, not sexual orientation or gender identity. The possibility that discrimination on either of these grounds might fit within some exotic understanding of sex discrimination would not have crossed their minds.

1

In 1964, the concept of prohibiting discrimination "because of sex" was no novelty.

*1768It was a familiar and well-understood concept, and what it meant was equal treatment for men and women.

Long before Title VII was adopted, many pioneering state and federal laws had used language substantively indistinguishable from Title VII's critical phrase, "discrimination because of sex." For example, the California Constitution of 1879 stipulated that no one, "on account of sex , [could] be disqualified from entering upon or pursuing any lawful business, vocation, or profession." Art. XX, § 18 (emphasis added). It also prohibited a student's exclusion from any state university department "on account of sex." Art. IX, § 9; accord, Mont. Const., Art. XI, § 9 (1889).

Wyoming's first Constitution proclaimed broadly that "[b]oth male and female citizens of this state shall equally enjoy all civil, political and religious rights and privileges," Art. VI, § 1 (1890), and then provided specifically that "[i]n none of the public schools ... shall distinction or discrimination be made on account of sex ," Art. VII, § 10 (emphasis added); see also § 16 (the "university shall be equally open to students of both sexes"). Washington's Constitution likewise required "ample provision for the education of all children ... without distinction or preference on account of ... sex ." Art. IX, § 1 (1889) (emphasis added).

The Constitution of Utah, adopted in 1895, provided that the right to vote and hold public office "shall not be denied or abridged on account of sex ." Art. IV, § 1 (emphasis added). And in the next sentence it made clear what "on account of sex" meant, stating that "[b]oth male and female citizens ... shall enjoy equally all civil, political and religious rights and privileges." Ibid .

The most prominent example of a provision using this language was the Nineteenth Amendment, ratified in 1920, which bans the denial or abridgment of the right to vote "on account of sex." U.S. Const., Amdt. 19. Similar language appeared in the proposal of the National Woman's Party for an Equal Rights Amendment. As framed in 1921, this proposal forbade all "political, civil or legal disabilities or inequalities on account of sex , [o]r on account of marriage." Women Lawyers Meet: Representatives of 20 States Endorse Proposed Equal Rights Amendment, N. Y. Times, Sept. 16, 1921, p. 10.

Similar terms were used in the precursor to the Equal Pay Act. Introduced in 1944 by Congresswoman Winifred C. Stanley, it proclaimed that "[d]iscrimination against employees, in rates of compensation paid, on account of sex " was "contrary to the public interest." H.R. 5056, 78th Cong., 2d Sess.

In 1952, the new Constitution for Puerto Rico, which was approved by Congress, 66 Stat. 327, prohibited all "discrimination ... on account of ... sex ," Art. II, Bill of Rights § 1 (emphasis added), and in the landmark Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952, Congress outlawed discrimination in naturalization "because of ... sex ." 8 U.S.C. § 1422 (emphasis added).

In 1958, the International Labour Organisation, a United Nations agency of which the United States is a member, recommended that nations bar employment discrimination "made on the basis of ... sex ." Convention (No. 111) Concerning Discrimination in Respect of Employment and Occupation, Art. 1(a), June 25, 1958, 362 U. N. T. S. 32 (emphasis added).

In 1961, President Kennedy ordered the Civil Service Commission to review and modify personnel policies "to assure that selection for any career position is hereinafter made solely on the basis of individual *1769merit and fitness, without regard to sex ."21 He concurrently established a "Commission on the Status of Women" and directed it to recommend policies "for overcoming discriminations in government and private employment on the basis of sex ." Exec. Order No. 10980, 3 CFR 138 (1961 Supp.) (emphasis added).

In short, the concept of discrimination "because of," "on account of," or "on the basis of " sex was well understood. It was part of the campaign for equality that had been waged by women's rights advocates for more than a century, and what it meant was equal treatment for men and women.22

2

Discrimination "because of sex" was not understood as having anything to do with discrimination because of sexual orientation or transgender status. Any such notion would have clashed in spectacular fashion with the societal norms of the day.

For most 21st-century Americans, it is painful to be reminded of the way our society once treated gays and lesbians, but any honest effort to understand what the terms of Title VII were understood to mean when enacted must take into account the societal norms of that time. And the plain truth is that in 1964 homosexuality was thought to be a mental disorder, and homosexual conduct was regarded as morally culpable and worthy of punishment.

In its then-most recent Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (1952) (DSM-I), the American Psychiatric Association (APA) classified same-sex attraction as a "sexual deviation," a particular type of "sociopathic personality disturbance," id. , at 38-39, and the next edition, issued in 1968, similarly classified homosexuality as a "sexual deviatio[n]," Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 44 (2d ed.) (DSM-II). It was not until the sixth printing of the DSM-II in 1973 that this was changed.23

*1770Society's treatment of homosexuality and homosexual conduct was consistent with this understanding. Sodomy was a crime in every State but Illinois, see W. Eskridge, Dishonorable Passions 387-407 (2008), and in the District of Columbia, a law enacted by Congress made sodomy a felony punishable by imprisonment for up to 10 years and permitted the indefinite civil commitment of "sexual psychopath[s]," Act of June 9, 1948, §§ 104, 201-207, 62 Stat. 347-349.24

This view of homosexuality was reflected in the rules governing the federal work force. In 1964, federal "[a]gencies could deny homosexual men and women employment because of their sexual orientation," and this practice continued until 1975. GAO, D. Heivilin, Security Clearances: Consideration of Sexual Orientation in the Clearance Process 2 (GAO/NSIAD-95-21, 1995). See, e.g. , Anonymous v. Macy , 398 F.2d 317, 318 (CA5 1968) (affirming dismissal of postal employee for homosexual acts).

In 1964, individuals who were known to be homosexual could not obtain security clearances, and any who possessed clearances were likely to lose them if their orientation was discovered. A 1953 Executive Order provided that background investigations should look for evidence of "sexual perversion," as well as "[a]ny criminal, infamous, dishonest, immoral, or notoriously disgraceful conduct." Exec. Order No. 10450, § 8(a)(1)(iii), 3 CFR 938 (1949-1953 Comp.). "Until about 1991, when agencies began to change their security policies and practices regarding sexual orientation, there were a number of documented cases where defense civilian or contractor employees' security clearances were denied or revoked because of their sexual orientation." GAO, Security Clearances, at 2. See, e.g. , Adams v. Laird , 420 F.2d 230, 240 (CADC 1969) (upholding denial of security clearance to defense contractor employee because he had "engaged in repeated homosexual acts"); see also Webster v. Doe , 486 U.S. 592, 595, 601, 108 S.Ct. 2047, 100 L.Ed.2d 632 (1988) (concluding that decision to fire a particular individual because he was homosexual fell within the "discretion" of the Director of Central Intelligence under the National Security Act of 1947 and thus was unreviewable under the APA).

The picture in state employment was similar. In 1964, it was common for States to bar homosexuals from serving as teachers. An article summarizing the situation 15 years after Title VII became law reported that "[a]ll states have statutes that permit the revocation of teaching certificates (or credentials) for immorality, moral turpitude, or unprofessionalism," and, the survey added, "[h]omosexuality is considered to fall within all three categories."25

The situation in California is illustrative. California laws prohibited individuals who engaged in "immoral conduct" (which was construed to include homosexual behavior), as well as those convicted of "sex offenses" (like sodomy), from employment as teachers. Cal. Educ. Code Ann. §§ 13202, 13207, 13209, 13218, 13255 (West 1960). The teaching certificates of individuals convicted of engaging in homosexual acts were *1771revoked. See, e.g. , Sarac v. State Bd. of Ed. , 249 Cal.App.2d 58, 62-64, 57 Cal.Rptr. 69, 72-73 (1967) (upholding revocation of secondary teaching credential from teacher who was convicted of engaging in homosexual conduct on public beach), overruled in part, Morrison v. State Bd. of Ed. , 1 Cal.3d 214, 461 P.2d 375, 82 Cal.Rptr. 175 (1969).

In Florida, the legislature enacted laws authorizing the revocation of teaching certificates for "misconduct involving moral turpitude," Fla. Stat. Ann. § 229.08(16) (1961), and this law was used to target homosexual conduct. In 1964, a legislative committee was wrapping up a 6-year campaign to remove homosexual teachers from public schools and state universities. As a result of these efforts, the state board of education apparently revoked at least 71 teachers' certificates and removed at least 14 university professors. Eskridge, Dishonorable Passions, at 103.

Individuals who engaged in homosexual acts also faced the loss of other occupational licenses, such as those needed to work as a "lawyer, doctor, mortician, [or] beautician."26 See, e.g. , Florida Bar v. Kay , 232 So.2d 378 (Fla. 1970) (attorney disbarred after conviction for homosexual conduct in public bathroom).

In 1964 and for many years thereafter, homosexuals were barred from the military. See, e.g. , Army Reg. 635-89, § I(2) (a) (July 15, 1966) ("Personnel who voluntarily engage in homosexual acts, irrespective of sex, will not be permitted to serve in the Army in any capacity, and their prompt separation is mandatory"); Army Reg. 600-443, § I(2) (April 10, 1953) (similar). Prohibitions against homosexual conduct by members of the military were not eliminated until 2010. See Don't Ask, Don't Tell Repeal Act of 2010, 124 Stat. 3515 (repealing 10 U.S.C. § 654, which required members of the Armed Forces to be separated for engaging in homosexual conduct).

Homosexuals were also excluded from entry into the United States. The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952 (INA) excluded aliens "afflicted with psychopathic personality." 8 U.S.C. § 1182(a)(4) (1964 ed.). In Boutilier v. INS , 387 U.S. 118, 120-123, 87 S.Ct. 1563, 18 L.Ed.2d 661 (1967), this Court, relying on the INA's legislative history, interpreted that term to encompass homosexuals and upheld an alien's deportation on that ground. Three Justices disagreed with the majority's interpretation of the phrase "psychopathic personality."27 But it apparently did not occur to anyone to argue that the Court's interpretation was inconsistent with the INA's express prohibition of discrimination "because of sex." That was how our society-and this Court-saw things a half century ago. Discrimination because of sex and discrimination because of sexual orientation were viewed as two entirely different concepts.

To its credit, our society has now come to recognize the injustice of past practices, and this recognition provides the impetus to "update" Title VII. But that is not our job. Our duty is to understand what the terms of Title VII were understood to mean when enacted, and in doing so, we must take into account the societal norms of that time. We must therefore ask *1772whether ordinary Americans in 1964 would have thought that discrimination because of "sex" carried some exotic meaning under which private-sector employers would be prohibited from engaging in a practice that represented the official policy of the Federal Government with respect to its own employees. We must ask whether Americans at that time would have thought that Title VII banned discrimination against an employee for engaging in conduct that Congress had made a felony and a ground for civil commitment.

The questions answer themselves. Even if discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity could be squeezed into some arcane understanding of sex discrimination, the context in which Title VII was enacted would tell us that this is not what the statute's terms were understood to mean at that time. To paraphrase something Justice Scalia once wrote, "our job is not to scavenge the world of English usage to discover whether there is any possible meaning" of discrimination because of sex that might be broad enough to encompass discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity. Chisom v. Roemer , 501 U.S. 380, 410, 111 S.Ct. 2354, 115 L.Ed.2d 348 (1991) (dissenting opinion). Without strong evidence to the contrary (and there is none here), our job is to ascertain and apply the "ordinary meaning" of the statute. Ibid . And in 1964, ordinary Americans most certainly would not have understood Title VII to ban discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity.

The Court makes a tiny effort to suggest that at least some people in 1964 might have seen what Title VII really means. Ante , at 1750 - 1751. What evidence does it adduce? One complaint filed in 1969, another filed in 1974, and arguments made in the mid-1970s about the meaning of the Equal Rights Amendment. Ibid . To call this evidence merely feeble would be generous.

C

While Americans in 1964 would have been shocked to learn that Congress had enacted a law prohibiting sexual orientation discrimination, they would have been bewildered to hear that this law also forbids discrimination on the basis of "transgender status" or "gender identity," terms that would have left people at the time scratching their heads. The term "transgender" is said to have been coined " 'in the early 1970s,' "28 and the term "gender identity," now understood to mean "[a]n internal sense of being male, female or something else,"29 apparently first appeared in an academic article in 1964.30 Certainly, neither term was in common parlance; indeed, dictionaries of the time *1773still primarily defined the word "gender" by reference to grammatical classifications. See, e.g. , American Heritage Dictionary, at 548 (def. 1(a)) ("Any set of two or more categories, such as masculine, feminine, and neuter, into which words are divided ... and that determine agreement with or the selection of modifiers, referents, or grammatical forms").

While it is likely true that there have always been individuals who experience what is now termed "gender dysphoria," i.e. , "[d]iscomfort or distress related to an incongruence between an individual's gender identity and the gender assigned at birth,"31 the current understanding of the concept postdates the enactment of Title VII. Nothing resembling what is now called gender dysphoria appeared in either DSM-I (1952) or DSM-II (1968). It was not until 1980 that the APA, in DSM-III, recognized two main psychiatric diagnoses related to this condition, "Gender Identity Disorder of Childhood" and "Transsexualism" in adolescents and adults.32 DSM-III, at 261-266.

The first widely publicized sex reassignment surgeries in the United States were not performed until 1966,33 and the great majority of physicians surveyed in 1969 thought that an individual who sought sex reassignment surgery was either " 'severely neurotic' " or " 'psychotic.' "34

It defies belief to suggest that the public meaning of discrimination because of sex in 1964 encompassed discrimination on the basis of a concept that was essentially unknown to the public at that time.

D

1

The Court's main excuse for entirely ignoring the social context in which Title VII was enacted is that the meaning of Title VII's prohibition of discrimination because of sex is clear, and therefore it simply does not matter whether people in 1964 were "smart enough to realize" what its language means. Hively, 853 F.3d at 357 (Posner, J., concurring). According to the Court, an argument that looks to the societal norms of those times represents an impermissible attempt to displace the statutory language. Ante , at 1750 - 1751.

The Court's argument rests on a false premise. As already explained at length, the text of Title VII does not prohibit discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity. And what the public thought about those issues in 1964 is relevant and important, not because it provides a ground for departing from the statutory text, but because it helps to explain what the text was understood to mean when adopted.

In arguing that we must put out of our minds what we know about the time when Title VII was enacted, the Court relies on Justice Scalia's opinion for the Court in Oncale v. Sundowner Offshore Services, Inc. , 523 U.S. 75, 118 S.Ct. 998, 140 L.Ed.2d 201 (1998). But Oncale is nothing like these cases, and no one should be taken in by the majority's effort to enlist Justice Scalia in its updating project.

*1774The Court's unanimous decision in Oncale was thoroughly unremarkable. The Court held that a male employee who alleged that he had been sexually harassed at work by other men stated a claim under Title VII. Although the impetus for Title VII's prohibition of sex discrimination was to protect women, anybody reading its terms would immediately appreciate that it applies equally to both sexes, and by the time Oncale reached the Court, our precedent already established that sexual harassment may constitute sex discrimination within the meaning of Title VII. See Meritor Savings Bank, FSB v. Vinson , 477 U.S. 57, 106 S.Ct. 2399, 91 L.Ed.2d 49 (1986). Given these premises, syllogistic reasoning dictated the holding.

What today's decision latches onto are Oncale 's comments about whether " 'male-on-male sexual harassment' " was on Congress's mind when it enacted Title VII. Ante , at 1751 (quoting 523 U.S. at 79, 118 S.Ct. 998 ). The Court in Oncale observed that this specific type of behavior "was assuredly not the principal evil Congress was concerned with when it enacted Title VII," but it found that immaterial because "statutory prohibitions often go beyond the principal evil to cover reasonably comparable evils, and it is ultimately the provisions of our laws rather than the principal concerns of our legislators by which we are governed." 523 U.S. at 79, 118 S.Ct. 998 (emphasis added).

It takes considerable audacity to read these comments as committing the Court to a position on deep philosophical questions about the meaning of language and their implications for the interpretation of legal rules. These comments are better understood as stating mundane and uncontroversial truths. Who would argue that a statute applies only to the "principal evils" and not lesser evils that fall within the plain scope of its terms? Would even the most ardent "purposivists" and fans of legislative history contend that congressional intent is restricted to Congress's "principal concerns"?

Properly understood, Oncale does not provide the slightest support for what the Court has done today. For one thing, it would be a wild understatement to say that discrimination because of sexual orientation and transgender status was not the "principal evil" on Congress's mind in 1964. Whether we like to admit it now or not, in the thinking of Congress and the public at that time, such discrimination would not have been evil at all.

But the more important difference between these cases and Oncale is that here the interpretation that the Court adopts does not fall within the ordinary meaning of the statutory text as it would have been understood in 1964. To decide for the defendants in Oncale , it would have been necessary to carve out an exception to the statutory text. Here, no such surgery is at issue. Even if we totally disregard the societal norms of 1964, the text of Title VII does not support the Court's holding. And the reasoning of Oncale does not preclude or counsel against our taking those norms into account. They are relevant, not for the purpose of creating an exception to the terms of the statute, but for the purpose of better appreciating how those terms would have been understood at the time.

2

The Court argues that two other decisions-- Phillips v. Martin Marietta Corp. , 400 U.S. 542, 91 S.Ct. 496, 27 L.Ed.2d 613 (1971) (per curiam ), and Los Angeles Dept. of Water and Power v. Manhart , 435 U.S. 702, 98 S.Ct. 1370, 55 L.Ed.2d 657 (1978) --buttress its decision, but those cases merely held that Title VII prohibits employer conduct that plainly constitutes discrimination *1775because of biological sex. In Philips , the employer treated women with young children less favorably than men with young children. In Manhart , the employer required women to make larger pension contributions than men. It is hard to see how these holdings assist the Court.

The Court extracts three "lessons" from Phillips , Manhart , and Oncale , but none sheds any light on the question before us. The first lesson is that "it's irrelevant what an employer might call its discriminatory practice, how others might label it, or what else might motivate it." Ante , at 1744. This lesson is obviously true but proves nothing. As to the label attached to a practice, has anyone ever thought that the application of a law to a person's conduct depends on how it is labeled? Could a bank robber escape conviction by saying he was engaged in asset enhancement? So if an employer discriminates because of sex, the employer is liable no matter what it calls its conduct, but if the employer's conduct is not sex discrimination, the statute does not apply. Thus, this lesson simply takes us back to the question whether discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity is a form of discrimination because of biological sex. For reasons already discussed, see Part I-A, supra , it is not.

It likewise proves nothing of relevance here to note that an employer cannot escape liability by showing that discrimination on a prohibited ground was not its sole motivation. So long as a prohibited ground was a motivating factor, the existence of other motivating factors does not defeat liability.

The Court makes much of the argument that "[i]n Phillips , the employer could have accurately spoken of its policy as one based on 'motherhood.' " Ante , at 1744; see also ante, at 1745. But motherhood, by definition, is a condition that can be experienced only by women, so a policy that distinguishes between motherhood and parenthood is necessarily a policy that draws a sex-based distinction. There was sex discrimination in Phillips , because women with children were treated disadvantageously compared to men with children.

Lesson number two-"the plaintiff 's sex need not be the sole or primary cause of the employer's adverse action," ante , at 1744-is similarly unhelpful. The standard of causation in these cases is whether sex is necessarily a "motivating factor" when an employer discriminates on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity. 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(m). But the essential question-whether discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity constitutes sex discrimination-would be the same no matter what causation standard applied. The Court's extensive discussion of causation standards is so much smoke.

Lesson number three--"an employer cannot escape liability by demonstrating that it treats males and females comparably as groups," ante , at 1744, is also irrelevant. There is no dispute that discrimination against an individual employee based on that person's sex cannot be justified on the ground that the employer's treatment of the average employee of that sex is at least as favorable as its treatment of the average employee of the opposite sex. Nor does it matter if an employer discriminates against only a subset of men or women, where the same subset of the opposite sex is treated differently, as in Phillips . That is not the issue here. An employer who discriminates equally on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity applies the same criterion to every affected individual regardless of sex. See Part I-A, supra .

*1776III

A

Because the opinion of the Court flies a textualist flag, I have taken pains to show that it cannot be defended on textualist grounds. But even if the Court's textualist argument were stronger, that would not explain today's decision. Many Justices of this Court, both past and present, have not espoused or practiced a method of statutory interpretation that is limited to the analysis of statutory text. Instead, when there is ambiguity in the terms of a statute, they have found it appropriate to look to other evidence of "congressional intent," including legislative history.

So, why in these cases are congressional intent and the legislative history of Title VII totally ignored? Any assessment of congressional intent or legislative history seriously undermines the Court's interpretation.

B

As the Court explained in General Elec. Co. v. Gilbert , 429 U.S. 125, 143, 97 S.Ct. 401, 50 L.Ed.2d 343 (1976), the legislative history of Title VII's prohibition of sex discrimination is brief, but it is nevertheless revealing. The prohibition of sex discrimination was "added to Title VII at the last minute on the floor of the House of Representatives," Meritor Savings Bank , 477 U.S. at 63, 106 S.Ct. 2399, by Representative Howard Smith, the Chairman of the Rules Committee. See 110 Cong. Rec. 2577 (1964). Representative Smith had been an ardent opponent of the civil rights bill, and it has been suggested that he added the prohibition against discrimination on the basis of "sex" as a poison pill. See, e.g. , Ulane v. Eastern Airlines, Inc. , 742 F.2d 1081, 1085 (CA7 1984). On this theory, Representative Smith thought that prohibiting employment discrimination against women would be unacceptable to Members who might have otherwise voted in favor of the bill and that the addition of this prohibition might bring about the bill's defeat.35 But if Representative Smith had been looking for a poison pill, prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity would have been far more potent. However, neither Representative Smith nor any other Member said one word about the possibility that the prohibition of sex discrimination might have that meaning. Instead, all the debate concerned discrimination on the basis of biological sex.36 See 110 Cong. Rec. 2577-2584.

Representative Smith's motivations are contested, 883 F.3d at 139-140 (Lynch, J., dissenting), but whatever they were, the meaning of the adoption of the prohibition of sex discrimination is clear. It was no accident. It grew out of "a long history of women's rights advocacy that had increasingly been gaining mainstream recognition and acceptance," and it marked a landmark achievement in the path toward fully *1777equal rights for women. Id. , at 140. "Discrimination against gay women and men, by contrast, was not on the table for public debate ... [i]n those dark, pre-Stonewall days." Ibid .

For those who regard congressional intent as the touchstone of statutory interpretation, the message of Title VII's legislative history cannot be missed.

C

Post-enactment events only clarify what was apparent when Title VII was enacted. As noted, bills to add "sexual orientation" to Title VII's list of prohibited grounds were introduced in every Congress beginning in 1975, see supra , at 1754 - 1755, and two such bills were before Congress in 199137 when it made major changes in Title VII. At that time, the three Courts of Appeals to reach the issue had held that Title VII does not prohibit discrimination because of sexual orientation,38 two other Circuits had endorsed that interpretation in dicta,39 and no Court of Appeals had held otherwise. Similarly, the three Circuits to address the application of Title VII to transgender persons had all rejected the argument that it covered discrimination on this basis.40 These were also the positions of the EEOC.41 In enacting substantial changes to Title VII, the 1991 Congress abrogated numerous judicial decisions with which it disagreed. If it also disagreed with the decisions regarding sexual orientation and transgender discrimination, it could have easily overruled those as well, but it did not do so.42

After 1991, six other Courts of Appeals reached the issue of sexual orientation discrimination, and until 2017, every single Court of Appeals decision understood Title VII's prohibition of "discrimination because of sex" to mean discrimination because of biological sex. See, e.g. , Higgins v. New Balance Athletic Shoe, Inc. , 194 F.3d 252, 259 (CA1 1999) ; Simonton v. Runyon , 232 F.3d 33, 36 (CA2 2000) ; Bibby v. Philadelphia Coca Cola Bottling Co. , 260 F.3d 257, 261 (CA3 2001), cert. denied, 534 U.S. 1155, 122 S.Ct. 1126, 151 L.Ed.2d 1018 (2002) ; Wrightson v. Pizza Hut of Am., Inc. , 99 F.3d 138, 143 (CA4 1996) ; Hamm v. Weyauwega Milk Products, Inc. , 332 F.3d 1058, 1062 (CA7 2003) ; Medina v. Income Support Div., N. M. , 413 F.3d 1131, 1135 (CA10 2005) ; Evans v. Georgia Regional Hospital , 850 F.3d 1248, 1255 (CA11), cert. denied, 583 U.S. ----, 138 S.Ct. 557, 199 L.Ed.2d 446 (2017). Similarly, the other Circuit to formally address *1778whether Title VII applies to claims of discrimination based on transgender status had also rejected the argument, creating unanimous consensus prior to the Sixth Circuit's decision below. See Etsitty v. Utah Transit Authority , 502 F.3d 1215, 1220-1221 (CA10 2007).

The Court observes that "[t]he people are entitled to rely on the law as written, without fearing that courts might disregard its plain terms," ante , at 1749, but it has no qualms about disregarding over 50 years of uniform judicial interpretation of Title VII's plain text. Rather, the Court makes the jaw-dropping statement that its decision exemplifies "judicial humility." Ante , at 1753. Is it humble to maintain, not only that Congress did not understand the terms it enacted in 1964, but that all the Circuit Judges on all the pre-2017 cases could not see what the phrase discrimination "because of sex" really means? If today's decision is humble, it is sobering to imagine what the Court might do if it decided to be bold.

IV

What the Court has done today--interpreting discrimination because of "sex" to encompass discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity--is virtually certain to have far-reaching consequences. Over 100 federal statutes prohibit discrimination because of sex. See Appendix C, infra ; e.g. , 20 U.S.C. § 1681(a) (Title IX); 42 U.S.C. § 3631 (Fair Housing Act); 15 U.S.C. 1691(a)(1) (Equal Credit Opportunity Act). The briefs in these cases have called to our attention the potential effects that the Court's reasoning may have under some of these laws, but the Court waves those considerations aside. As to Title VII itself, the Court dismisses questions about "bathrooms, locker rooms, or anything else of the kind." Ante , at 1753. And it declines to say anything about other statutes whose terms mirror Title VII's.

The Court's brusque refusal to consider the consequences of its reasoning is irresponsible. If the Court had allowed the legislative process to take its course, Congress would have had the opportunity to consider competing interests and might have found a way of accommodating at least some of them. In addition, Congress might have crafted special rules for some of the relevant statutes. But by intervening and proclaiming categorically that employment discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity is simply a form of discrimination because of sex, the Court has greatly impeded-and perhaps effectively ended-any chance of a bargained legislative resolution. Before issuing today's radical decision, the Court should have given some thought to where its decision would lead.

As the briefing in these cases has warned, the position that the Court now adopts will threaten freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and personal privacy and safety. No one should think that the Court's decision represents an unalloyed victory for individual liberty.

I will briefly note some of the potential consequences of the Court's decision, but I do not claim to provide a comprehensive survey or to suggest how any of these issues should necessarily play out under the Court's reasoning.43

"[B]athrooms, locker rooms, [and other things] of [that] kind." The Court may wish to avoid this subject, but it is a matter of concern to many people who are reticent about disrobing or using toilet facilities *1779in the presence of individuals whom they regard as members of the opposite sex. For some, this may simply be a question of modesty, but for others, there is more at stake. For women who have been victimized by sexual assault or abuse, the experience of seeing an unclothed person with the anatomy of a male in a confined and sensitive location such as a bathroom or locker room can cause serious psychological harm.44

Under the Court's decision, however, transgender persons will be able to argue that they are entitled to use a bathroom or locker room that is reserved for persons of the sex with which they identify, and while the Court does not define what it means by a transgender person, the term may apply to individuals who are "gender fluid," that is, individuals whose gender identity is mixed or changes over time.45 Thus, a person who has not undertaken any physical transitioning may claim the right to use the bathroom or locker room assigned to the sex with which the individual identifies at that particular time. The Court provides no clue why a transgender person's claim to such bathroom or locker room access might not succeed.

A similar issue has arisen under Title IX, which prohibits sex discrimination by any elementary or secondary school and any college or university that receives federal financial assistance.46 In 2016, a Department of Justice advisory warned that barring a student from a bathroom assigned to individuals of the gender with which the student identifies constitutes unlawful sex discrimination,47 and some lower court decisions have agreed. See Whitaker v. Kenosha Unified School Dist. No. 1 Bd. of Ed. , 858 F.3d 1034, 1049 (CA7 2017) ; G. G. v. Gloucester Cty. School Bd. , 822 F.3d 709, 715 (CA4 2016), vacated and remanded, 580 U.S. ----, 137 S.Ct. 1239, 197 L.Ed.2d 460 (2017) ; Adams v. School Bd. of St. Johns Cty. , 318 F.Supp.3d 1293, 1325 (MD Fla. 2018) ; cf. Doe v. Boyertown Area

School Dist. , 897 F.3d 518, 533 (CA3 2018), cert. denied, 587 U.S. ----, 139 S.Ct. 2636, 204 L.Ed.2d 300 (2019).

Women's sports . Another issue that may come up under both Title VII and Title IX is the right of a transgender individual to participate on a sports team or in an athletic competition previously reserved for members of one biological sex.48 This issue has already arisen under Title IX, where it threatens to undermine one of that law's major achievements, giving young women an equal opportunity to participate in sports. The effect of the Court's reasoning may be to force young women to compete against students who have a very significant biological advantage, including students who have the size and strength of a *1780male but identify as female and students who are taking male hormones in order to transition from female to male. See, e.g. , Complaint in Soule v. Connecticut Assn. of Schools , No. 3:20-cv-00201 (D Conn., Apr. 17, 2020) (challenging Connecticut policy allowing transgender students to compete in girls' high school sports); Complaint in Hecox v. Little , No. 1:20-cv-00184 (D Idaho, Apr. 15, 2020) (challenging state law that bars transgender students from participating in school sports in accordance with gender identity). Students in these latter categories have found success in athletic competitions reserved for females.49

The logic of the Court's decision could even affect professional sports. Under the Court's holding that Title VII prohibits employment discrimination because of transgender status, an athlete who has the physique of a man but identifies as a woman could claim the right to play on a women's professional sports team. The owners of the team might try to claim that biological sex is a bona fide occupational qualification (BFOQ) under 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(e), but the BFOQ exception has been read very narrowly. See Dothard v. Rawlinson , 433 U.S. 321, 334, 97 S.Ct. 2720, 53 L.Ed.2d 786 (1977).

Housing . The Court's decision may lead to Title IX cases against any college that resists assigning students of the opposite biological sex as roommates. A provision of Title IX, 20 U.S.C. § 1686, allows schools to maintain "separate living facilities for the different sexes," but it may be argued that a student's "sex" is the gender with which the student identifies.50 Similar claims may be brought under the Fair Housing Act. See 42 U.S.C. § 3604.

Employment by religious organizations . Briefs filed by a wide range of religious groups--Christian, Jewish, and Muslim--express deep concern that the position now adopted by the Court "will trigger open conflict with faithbased employment practices of numerous churches, synagogues, mosques, and other religious institutions."51 They argue that "[r]eligious organizations need employees who actually live the faith,"52 and that compelling a religious organization to employ individuals whose conduct flouts the tenets of the organization's faith forces the group to communicate an objectionable message.

*1781This problem is perhaps most acute when it comes to the employment of teachers. A school's standards for its faculty "communicate a particular way of life to its students," and a "violation by the faculty of those precepts" may undermine the school's "moral teaching."53 Thus, if a religious school teaches that sex outside marriage and sex reassignment procedures are immoral, the message may be lost if the school employs a teacher who is in a same-sex relationship or has undergone or is undergoing sex reassignment. Yet today's decision may lead to Title VII claims by such teachers and applicants for employment.

At least some teachers and applicants for teaching positions may be blocked from recovering on such claims by the "ministerial exception" recognized in Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church and School v. EEOC , 565 U.S. 171, 132 S.Ct. 694, 181 L.Ed.2d 650 (2012). Two cases now pending before the Court present the question whether teachers who provide religious instruction can be considered to be "ministers."54 But even if teachers with those responsibilities qualify, what about other very visible school employees who may not qualify for the ministerial exception? Provisions of Title VII provide exemptions for certain religious organizations and schools "with respect to the employment of individuals of a particular religion to perform work connected with the carrying on" of the "activities" of the organization or school, 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-1(a) ; see also § 2000e-2(e)(2), but the scope of these provisions is disputed, and as interpreted by some lower courts, they provide only narrow protection.55

Healthcare . Healthcare benefits may emerge as an intense battleground under the Court's holding. Transgender employees have brought suit under Title VII to challenge employer-provided health insurance plans that do not cover costly sex reassignment surgery.56 Similar claims have been brought under the Affordable Care Act (ACA), which broadly prohibits sex discrimination in the provision of healthcare.57

*1782Such claims present difficult religious liberty issues because some employers and healthcare providers have strong religious objections to sex reassignment procedures, and therefore requiring them to pay for or to perform these procedures will have a severe impact on their ability to honor their deeply held religious beliefs.

Freedom of speech . The Court's decision may even affect the way employers address their employees and the way teachers and school officials address students. Under established English usage, two sets of sex-specific singular personal pronouns are used to refer to someone in the third person (he, him, and his for males; she, her, and hers for females). But several different sets of gender-neutral pronouns have now been created and are preferred by some individuals who do not identify as falling into either of the two traditional categories.58 Some jurisdictions, such as New York City, have ordinances making the failure to use an individual's preferred pronoun a punishable offense,59 and some colleges have similar rules.60 After today's decision, plaintiffs may claim that the failure to use their preferred pronoun violates one of the federal laws prohibiting sex discrimination. See Prescott v. Rady Children's Hospital San Diego , 265 F.Supp.3d 1090, 1098-1100 (SD Cal. 2017) (hospital staff 's refusal to use preferred pronoun *1783violates ACA).61

The Court's decision may also pressure employers to suppress any statements by employees expressing disapproval of same-sex relationships and sex reassignment procedures. Employers are already imposing such restrictions voluntarily, and after today's decisions employers will fear that allowing employees to express their religious views on these subjects may give rise to Title VII harassment claims.

Constitutional claims . Finally, despite the important differences between the Fourteenth Amendment and Title VII, the Court's decision may exert a gravitational pull in constitutional cases. Under our precedents, the Equal Protection Clause prohibits sex-based discrimination unless a "heightened" standard of review is met. Sessions v. Morales-Santana , 582 U.S. ----, ----, 137 S.Ct. 1678, 1689, 198 L.Ed.2d 150 (2017); United States v. Virginia , 518 U.S. 515, 532-534, 116 S.Ct. 2264, 135 L.Ed.2d 735 (1996). By equating discrimination because of sexual orientation or gender identity with discrimination because of sex, the Court's decision will be cited as a ground for subjecting all three forms of discrimination to the same exacting standard of review.

Under this logic, today's decision may have effects that extend well beyond the domain of federal antidiscrimination statutes. This potential is illustrated by pending and recent lower court cases in which transgender individuals have challenged a variety of federal, state, and local laws and policies on constitutional grounds. See, e.g. , Complaint in Hecox , No. 1: 20-CV-00184 (state law prohibiting transgender students from competing in school sports in accordance with their gender identity); Second Amended Complaint in Karnoski v. Trump , No. 2:17-cv-01297 (WD Wash., July 31, 2019) (military's ban on transgender members); Kadel v. Folwell , ---- F. Supp. 3d ----, ---- - ----, 2020 WL 1169271, *10-*11 (MDNC, Mar. 11, 2020) (state health plan's exclusion of coverage for sex reassignment procedures); Complaint in Gore v. Lee , No. 3:19-cv-00328 (MD Tenn., Mar. 3, 2020) (change of gender on birth certificates); Brief for Appellee in Grimm v. Gloucester Cty. School Bd. , No. 19-1952 (CA4, Nov. 18, 2019) (transgender student forced to use gender neutral bathrooms at school); Complaint in Corbitt v. Taylor , No. 2:18-cv-00091 (MD Ala., July 25, 2018) (change of gender on driver's licenses); Whitaker , 858 F.3d at 1054 (school policy requiring students to use the bathroom that corresponds to the sex on birth certificate); Keohane v. Florida Dept. of Corrections Secretary , 952 F.3d 1257, 1262-1265 (CA11 2020) (transgender prisoner denied hormone therapy and ability to dress and groom as a female); Edmo v. Corizon, Inc. , 935 F.3d 757, 767 (CA9 2019) (transgender prisoner requested sex reassignment surgery); cf. Glenn v. Brumby , 663 F.3d 1312, 1320 (CA11 2011) (transgender individual fired for gender non-conformity).

Although the Court does not want to think about the consequences of its decision, we will not be able to avoid those issues for long. The entire Federal Judiciary will be mired for years in disputes about the reach of the Court's reasoning.

* * *

The updating desire to which the Court succumbs no doubt arises from humane and generous impulses. Today, many *1784Americans know individuals who are gay, lesbian, or transgender and want them to be treated with the dignity, consideration, and fairness that everyone deserves. But the authority of this Court is limited to saying what the law is .

The Court itself recognizes this:

"The place to make new legislation ... lies in Congress. When it comes to statutory interpretation, our role is limited to applying the law's demands as faithfully as we can in the cases that come before us." Ante , at 1753.

It is easy to utter such words. If only the Court would live by them.

I respectfully dissent.

APPENDIXES

A

Webster's New International Dictionary 2296 (2d ed. 1953):

sex (seks), n. [F. sexe , fr. L. sexus; prob. orig., division, and akin to L. secare to cut. See SECTION .] 1. One of the two divisions of organisms formed on the distinction of male and female; males or females collectively. 2. The sum of the peculiarities of structure and function that distinguish a male from a female organism; the character of being male or female, or of pertaining to the distinctive function of the male or female in reproduction. Conjugation, or fertilization (union of germplasm of two individuals), a process evidently of great but not readily explainable importance in the perpetuation of most organisms, seems to be the function of differentiation of sex, which occurs in nearly all organisms at least at some stage in their life history. Sex is manifested in the conjugating cells by the larger size, abundant food material, and immobility of the female gamete (egg , egg cell , or ovum ), and the small size and the locomotive power of the male gamete (spermatozoon or spermatozoid ), and in the adult organisms often by many structural, physiological, and (in higher forms) psychological characters, aside from the necessary modification of the reproductive apparatus. Cf. HERMAPHRODITE , 1. In botany the term sex is often extended to the distinguishing peculiarities of staminate and pistillate flowers, and hence in dioecious plants to the individuals bearing them.

In many animals and plants the body and germ cells have been shown to contain one or more chromosomes of a special kind (called sex chromosomes; idiochromosomes; accessory chromosomes ) in addition to the ordinary paired autosomes. These special chromosomes serve to determine sex. In the simplest case, the male germ cells are of two types, one with and one without a single extra chromosome (X chromosome , or monosome ). The egg cells in this case all possess an X chromosome , and on fertilization by the two types of sperm, male and female zygotes result, of respective constitution X , and XX . In many other animals and plants (probably including man) the male organism produces two types of gametes, one possessing an X chromosome , the other a Y chromosome , these being visibly different members of a pair of chromosomes present in the diploid state. In this case also, the female organism is XX , the eggs X , and the zygotes respectively male (XY ) and female (XX ). In another type of sex determination, as in certain moths and possibly in the fowl, the female produces two kinds of eggs, the male only one kind of sperm. Each type of egg contains one member of a pair of differentiated chromosomes, *1785called respectively Z chromosomes and W chromosomes , while all the sperm cells contain a Z chromosome. In fertilization, union of a Z with a W gives rise to a female, while union of two Z chromosomes produces a male. Cf. SECONDARY SEX CHARACTER .

3. a The sphere of behavior dominated by the relations between male and female. b Psychoanalysis . By extension, the whole sphere of behavior related even indirectly to the sexual functions and embracing all affectionate and pleasure-seeking conduct.

4. Phenomena of sexual instincts and their manifestations.

5. Sect;-a confused use.

Syn. - SEX, GENDER. SEX refers to physiological distinctions; GENDER , to distinctions in grammar.

-the sex . The female sex; women, in general.

sex, adj . Based on or appealing to sex.

sex, v. t. To determine the sex of, as skeletal remains.

Webster's Third New International Dictionary 2081 (1966):

¹sex \'seks\ n -ES often attrib [ME, fr. L sexus; prob. akin to L secare to cut-more at SAW ] 1: one of the two divisions of organic esp. human beings respectively designated male or female < a member of the opposite ~>2: the sum of the morphological, physiological, and behavioral peculiarities of living beings that subserves biparental reproduction with its concomitant genetic segregation and recombination which underlie most evolutionary change, that in its typical dichotomous occurrence is usu. genetically controlled and associated with special sex chromosomes, and that is typically manifested as maleness and femaleness with one or the other of these being present in most higher animals though both may occur in the same individual in many plants and some invertebrates and though no such distinction can be made in many lower forms (as some fungi, protozoans, and possibly bacteria and viruses) either because males and females are replaced by mating types or because the participants in sexual reproduction are indistinguishable-compare HETEROTHALLIC, HOMOTHALLIC; FERTILIZATION, MEIOSIS, MENDEL'S LAW; FREEMARTIN, HERMAPHRODITE, INTERSEX 3: the sphere of interpersonal behavior esp. between male and female most directly associated with, leading up to, substituting for, or resulting from genital union < agree that the Christian's attitude toward ~ should not be considered apart from love, marriage, family-M. M. Forney>4: the phenomena of sexual instincts and their manifestations < with his customary combination of philosophy, insight, good will toward the world, and entertaining interest in ~-Allen Drury> < studying and assembling what modern scientists have discovered about ~-Time>; specif : SEXUAL INTERCOURSE < an old law imposing death for ~ outside marriage-William Empson>

²sex \''\ vt -ED/-ING/-ES 1: to determine the sex of (an organic being) < it is difficult to ~ the animals at a distance-E. A. Hooton>-compare AUTOSEXING 2 a: to increase the sexual appeal or attraction of-usu. used with up < titles must be ~ed up to attract 56 million customers-Time> b: to arouse the sexual instincts or desires of-usu. used with up < watching you ~ing up that bar kitten-Oakley Hall>

*17869 Oxford English Dictionary 577-578 (1933):

Sex (seks), sb . Also 6-7 sexe, (6 seex, 7 pl. sexe, 8 poss . sexe's). [ad. L. sexus (u -stem), whence also F. sexe (12th c.), Sp., Pg. sexo , It. sesso . Latin had also a form secus neut. (indeclinable).]

1. Either of the two divisions of organic beings distinguished as male and female respectively; the males or the females (of a species, etc., esp. of the human race) viewed collectively.

1382 WYCLIF Gen . vi. 19 Of alle thingis hauynge sowle of ony flehs, two thow shalt brynge into the ark, that maal sex and femaal lyuen with thee. 1532 MORE Confut. Tindale II. 152, I had as leue he bare them both a bare cheryte, as wyth the frayle feminyne sexe fall to far in loue. 1559 ALYMER Harborowe E 4 b, Neither of them debarred the heires female .. as though it had ben .. vnnatural for that sexe to gouern. 1576 GASCOIGNE Philomene xcviii, I speake against my sex. a 1586 SIDNEY Arcadia II. (1912) 158 The sexe of womankind of all other is most bound to have regardfull eie to mens judgements. 1600 NASHE Summer's Last Will F 3 b, A woman they imagine her to be, Because that sexe keepes nothing close they heare. 1615 CROOKE Body of Man 274 If wee respect the .. conformation of both the Sexes, the Male is sooner perfected .. in the wombe. 1634 SIR T. HERBERT Trav. 19 Both sexe goe naked. 1667 MILTON P. L. IX, 822 To add what wants In Femal Sex. 1671-Samson 774 It was a weakness In me, but incident to all our sex. 1679 DRYDEN Troilus & Cr. I. ii, A strange dissembling sex we women are. 1711 ADDISON Spect. No. 10 ¶ 6 Their Amusements .. are more adapted to the Sex than to the Species. 1730 SWIFT Let. to Mrs. Whiteway 28 Dec., You have neither the scrawl nor the spelling of your sex. 1742 GRAY Propertius II. 73 She .. Condemns her fickle Sexe's fond Mistake. 1763 G. WILLIAMS in Jesse Selwyn & Contemp. (1843) I. 265 It would astonish you to see the mixture of sexes at this place. 1780 BENTHAM Princ. Legisl. VI. § 35 The sensibility of the female sex appears .. to be greater than that of the male. 1814 SCOTT Ld. of Isles VI. iii, Her sex's dress regain'd. 1836 THIRLWALL Greece xi. II. 51 Solon also made regulations for the government of the other sex. 1846 Ecclesiologist Feb. 41 The propriety and necessity of dividing the sexes during the publick offices of the Church. 1848 THACKERAY Van. Fair xxv, She was by no means so far superior to her sex as to be above jealousy. 1865 DICKENS Mut. Fr. II. i, It was a school for both sexes. 1886 MABEL COLLINS Prettiest Woman ii, Zadwiga had not yet given any serious attention to the other sex.

b. collect. followed by plural verb. rare.

1768 GOLDSM . Good. n. Man IV. (Globe) 632/2 Our sex are like poor tradesmen. 1839 MALCOM Trav. (1840) 40/I Neither sex tattoo any part of their bodies.

c. The fair(er), gentle(r), soft(er), weak(er) sex; the devout sex ; the second sex ; † the woman sex : the female sex, women. The † better, sterner sex : the male sex, men.

[1583 STUBBES Anat. Abus. E vij b, Ye magnificency & liberalitie of that gentle sex. 1613 PURCHAS Pilgrimage (1614) 38 Strong Sampson and wise Solomon are witnesses, that the strong men are slaine by this weaker sexe.]

1641 BROME Jovial Crew III. (1652) H 4, I am bound by a strong vow to kisse all of the woman sex I meet this morning. 1648 J. BEAUMONT Psyche XIV. I, *1787The softer sex, attending Him And his still-growing woes. 1665 SIR T. HERBERT Trav. (1677) 22 Whiles the better sex seek prey abroad, the women (therein like themselves) keep home and spin. 1665 BOYLE Occas. Refl. v. ix. 176 Persons of the fairer Sex. a 1700 EVELYN Diary 12 Nov. an. 1644, The Pillar .. at which the devout sex are always rubbing their chaplets. 1701 STANHOPE St. Aug. Medit. I. xxxv. (1704) 82, I may .. not suffer my self to be outdone by the weaker Sex. 1732 [see FAIR a. I b]. 1753 HOGARTH Anal. Beauty x. 65 An elegant degree of plumpness peculiar to the skin of the softer sex. 1820 BYRON Juan IV. cviii, Benign Ceruleans of the second sex! Who advertise new poems by your looks. 1838 Murray's Hand-bk. N. Germ. 430 It is much frequented by the fair sex. 1894 C. D. TYLER in Geog. Jrnl. III. 479 They are beardless, and usually wear a shock of unkempt hair, which is somewhat finer in the gentler sex.

¶d. Used occas. with extended notion. The third sex : eunuchs. Also sarcastically (see quot. 1873).

1820 BYRON Juan IV. lxxxvi, From all the Pope makes yearly, 'twould perplex To find three perfect pipes of the third sex. Ibid . V. xxvi, A black old neutral personage Of the third sex stept up. [1873 LD. HOUGHTON Monogr. 280 Sydney Smith .. often spoke with much bitterness of the growing belief in three Sexes of Humanity-Men, Women, and Clergymen.]

e. The sex : the female sex. [F. le sexe .] Now rare.

1589 PUTTENHAM Eng. Poesie III. xix. (Arb.) 235 As he that had tolde a long tale before certaine noble women, of a matter somewhat in honour touching the Sex. 1608 D. T[ UVILL ] Ess. Pol. & Mor. 101 b, Not yet weighing with himselfe, the weaknesse and imbecillitie of the sex. 1631 MASSINGER Emperor East I. ii, I am called The Squire of Dames, or Servant of the Sex. 1697 VANBRUGH Prov. Wife II. ii, He has a strange penchant to grow fond of me, in spite of his aversion to the sex. 1760-2 GOLDSM . Cit. W. xcix, The men of Asia behave with more deference to the sex than you seem to imagine. 1792 A. YOUNG Trav. France I. 220 The sex of Venice are undoubtedly of a distinguished beauty. 1823 BYRON Juan XIII. lxxix, We give the sex the pas . 1863 R. F. BURTON W. Africa I. 22 Going 'up stairs', as the sex says, at 5 a.m. on the day after arrival, I cast the first glance at Funchal.

f. Without the , in predicative quasi-adj. use=feminine. rare.

a 1700 DRYDEN Cymon & Iph. 368 She hugg'd th' Offender, and forgave th' Offence, Sex to the last!

2. Quality in respect of being male or female.

a. With regard to persons or animals.

1526 Pilgr. Perf. (W. de. W. 1531) 282 b, Ye bee, whiche neuer gendreth with ony make of his kynde, nor yet hath ony distinct sex. 1577 T. KENDALL Flowers of Epigr. 71 b, If by corps supposd may be her seex, then sure a virgin she. 1616 T. SCOTT Philomythie I. (ed. 2) A 3 Euen as Hares change shape and sex, some say Once euery yeare. 1658 SIR T. BROWNE Hydriot . iii. 18 A critical view of bones makes a good distinction of sexes. a 1665 DIGBY Chym. Secrets (1682) II. 225 Persons of all Ages and Sexes. 1667 MILTON P. L. I. 424 For Spirits when they please can either Sex assume, or both. 1710-11 SWIFT Jrnl. to Stella 7 Mar., I find I was mistaken in the sex, 'tis a boy. 1757 SMOLLETT Reprisal IV. v, As for me, my sex protects me. 1825 SCOTT Betrothed xiii, I am but a poor and neglected woman, *1788feeble both from sex and age. 1841 ELPHINSTONE Hist. India I. 349 When persons of different sexes walk together, the woman always follows the man. 1882 TENSION-WOODS Fish N. S. Wales 116 Oysters are of distinct sexes.

b. with regard to plants (see FEMALE a . 2, MALE a . 2).

1567 MAPLET Gr. Forest 28 Some seeme to haue both sexes and kindes: as the Oke, the Lawrell and such others. 1631 WIDDOWES Nat. Philos. (ed. 2) 49 There be sexes of hearbes .. namely, the Male or Female. 1720 P. BLAIR Bot. Ess. iv. 237 These being very evident Proofs of a necessity of two Sexes in Plants as well as in Animals. 1790 SMELLIE Philos. Nat. Hist. I. 245 There is not a notion more generally adopted, that that vegetables have the distinction of sexes. 1848 LINDLEY Introd. Bot. (ed. 4) II. 80 Change of Sex under the influence of external causes.

3. The distinction between male and female in general. In recent use often with more explicit notion: The sum of those differences in the structure and function of the reproductive organs on the ground of which beings are distinguished as male and female, and of the other physiological differences consequent on these; the class of phenomena with which these differences are concerned.

Organs of sex: the reproductive organs in sexed animals or plants.

a 1631 DONNE Songs & Sonn., The Printrose Poems 1912 I. 61 Should she Be more then woman, she would get above All thought of sexe, and think to move My heart to study her, and not to love. a 1643 CARTWRIGHT Siedge III. vi, My Soul's As Male as yours; there's no Sex in the mind. 1748 MELMOTH Fitzosborne Lett. lxii. (1749) II. 119 There may be a kind of sex in the very soul. 1751 HARRIS Hermes Wks. (1841) 129 Besides number, another characteristic, visible in substances, is that of sex. 1878 GLADSTONE Prim. Homer 68 Athenè .. has nothing of sex except the gender, nothing of the woman except the form. 1887 K. PEARSON Eth. Freethought xv. (1888) 429 What is the true type of social (moral) action in matters of sex? 1895 CRACKANTHORPE in 19th Cent. Apr. 607 (art.) Sex in modern literature. Ibid. 614 The writers and readers who have strenuously refused to allow to sex its place in creative art. 1912 H. G. WELLS Marriage ii. § 6. 72 The young need .. to be told .. all we know of three fundamental things; the first of which is God, .. and the third Sex.

¶ 4. Used, by confusion, in senses of SECT (q. v. I, 4 b, 7, and cf. I d note ).

1575-85 ABP. SANDYS Serm. xx. 358 So are all sexes and sorts of people called vpon. 1583 MELBANCKE Philotimus L iij b, Whether thinkest thou better sporte & more absurd, to see an Asse play on an harpe contrary to his sex, or heare [etc.]. 1586 J. HOOKER Hist. Irel. 180/2 in Holinshed , The whole sex of the Oconhours. 1586 T. B. La Primaud. Fr. Acad. I. 359 O detestable furie, not to be found in most cruell beasts, which spare the blood of their sexe. a 1704 T BROWN Dial. Dead, Friendship Wks. 1711 IV. 56 We have had enough of these Christians, and sure there can be no worse among the other Sex of Mankind [i.e. Jews and Turks]? 1707 ATTERBURY Large Vind. Doctr. 47 Much less can I imagine, why a Jewish Sex (whether of Pharisees or Saducees) should be represented, as [etc.].

5. attrib. and Comb., as sex-distinction, function, etc.; sex-abusing, transforming adjs.; sex-cell, a reproductive *1789cell, with either male or female function; a sperm-cell or an egg-cell.

1642 H. MORE Song of Soul I. III. lxxi, Mad-making waters, sex trans-forming springs. 1781 COWPER Expost. 415 Sin, that in old time Brought fire from heav'n, the sex-abusing crime. 1876 HARDY Ethelberta xxxvii, You cannot have celebrity and sex-privilege both. 1887 Jrnl. Educ. No. 210. 29 If this examination craze is to prevail, and the sex-abolitionists are to have their way. 1889 GEDDES & THOMSON Evol. Sex 91 Very commonly the sex-cells originate in the ectoderm and ripen there. 1894 H. DRUMMOND Ascent of Man 317 The sex-distinction slowly gathers definition. 1897 J. HUTCHINSON in Arch. Surg. VIII. 230 Loss of Sex Function.

Sex (seks), v. [f. SEX sb. ] trans. To determine the sex of, by anatomical examination; to label as male or female.

1884 GURNEY Diurnal Birds Prey 173 The specimen is not sexed, neither is the sex noted on the drawing. 1888 A. NEWTON in Zoologist Ser. 111. XII. 101 The .. barbarous phrase of 'collecting a specimen' and then of 'sexing' it.

Concise Oxford Dictionary of Current English 1164 (5th ed. 1964):

sex, n. Being male or female or hermaphrodite (what is its ~?; ~ does not matter; without distinction of age or ~ ), whence ~'LESS a., ~'le?ss NESS n., ~'Y² a., immoderately concerned with ~; males or females collectively (all ranks & both ~es; the fair, gentle, softer, weaker, ~, & joc. the ~, women; the sterner ~, men; is the fairest of her ~ ); (attrib.) arising from difference, or consciousness, of ~ (~ antagonism , ~ instinct , ~ urge ); ~ appeal , attractiveness arising from difference of ~. [f. L sexus -us; partly thr. F]

Random House Dictionary of the English Language 1307 (1966):

sex (seks), n. 1. The fact or character of being either male or female: persons of different sex. 2. either of the two groups of persons exhibiting this character: the stronger sex; the gentle sex. 3. the sum of the structural and functional differences by which the male and female are distinguished, or the phenomena or behavior dependent on these differences. 4. the instinct or attraction drawing one sex toward another, or its manifestation in life and conduct. 5. coitus. 6. to have sex, Informal . to engage in sexual intercourse. -v.t. 7. to ascertain the sex of, esp. of newly hatched chicks. 8. sex it up, Slang . to neck passionately: They were really sexing it up last night . 9. sex up, Informal. a. to arouse sexually: She certainly knows how to sex up the men. b. to increase the appeal of; to make more interesting, attractive, or exciting: We've decided to sex up the movie with some battle scenes. [ME < L sex (us ), akin to secus , deriv. of secare to cut, divide; see SECTION]

American Heritage Dictionary 1187 (1969):

sex (seks) n. 1. a. The property or quality by which organ-isms are classified according to their reproductive functions. b. Either of two divisions, designated male and female , of this classification. 2. Males or females collectively. 3. The condition or character of being male or female; the physiological, functional, and psychological differences that distinguish the male and the female. 4. The sexual urge or instinct as it manifests itself in behavior. 5. Sexual intercourse. -tr.v. sexed, sexing, sexes. To determine the sex of (young chickens). [Middle English, from Old French sexe , from Latin sexus †.]

*1790B

Webster's Third New International Dictionary 2081 (2002):

¹sex \'seks\ n - ES often attrib [ME, fr. L sexus ; prob. akin to L secare to cut-more at SAW ] 1: one of the two divisions of organic esp. human beings respectively designated male or female < a member of the opposite ~>2: the sum of the morphological, physiological, and behavioral peculiarities of living beings that subserves biparental reproduction with its concomitant genetic segregation and recombination which underlie most evolutionary change, that in its typical dichotomous occurrence is usu. genetically controlled and associated with special sex chromosomes, and that is typically manifested as maleness and femaleness with one or the other of these being present in most higher animals though both may occur in the same individual in many plants and some invertebrates and though no such distinction can be made in many lower forms (as some fungi, protozoans, and possibly bacteria and viruses) either because males and females are replaced by mating types or because the participants in sexual reproduction are indistinguishable-compare HETEROTHALLIC, HOMOTHALLIC; FERTILIZATION, MEIOSIS, MENDEL'S LAW; FREEMARTIN, HERMAPHRODITE, INTERSEX 3: the sphere of interpersonal behavior esp. between male and female most directly associated with, leading up to, substituting for, or resulting from genital union < agree that the Christian's attitude toward ~ should not be considered apart from love, marriage, family-M. M. Forney>4: the phenomena of sexual instincts and their manifestations < with his customary combination of philosophy, insight, good will toward the world, and entertaining interest in ~-Allen Drury> < studying and assembling what modern scientists have discovered about ~-Time>; specif : SEXUAL INTERCOURSE < an old law imposing death for ~ outside marriage-William Empson>

²sex \''\ vt -ED/-ING/-ES 1: to determine the sex of (an organic being) < it is difficult to ~ the animals at a distance-E. A. Hooton>-compare AUTOSEXING 2 a: to increase the sexual appeal or attraction of-usu. used with up < titles must be ~ed up to attract 56 million customers-Time> b: to arouse the sexual instincts or desires of-usu. used with up < watching you ~ing up that bar kitten-Oakley Hall>

Random House Webster's Unabridged Dictionary 1754 (2d ed. 2001):

Sex (seks), n . 1 . either the male or female division of a species, esp. as differentiated with reference to the reproductive functions. 2 . the sum of the structural and functional differences by which the male and female are distinguished, or the phenomena or behavior dependent on these differences. 3 . the instinct or attraction drawing one sex toward another, or its manifestation in life and conduct. 4 . coitus. 5 . genitalia. 6 . to have sex , to engage in sexual intercourse. - v.t. 7 . to ascertain the sex of, esp. of newly-hatched chicks. 8 . sex up , Informal . a . to arouse sexually: The only intent of that show was to sex up the audience . b . to increase the appeal of; to make more interesting, attractive, or exciting: We've decided to sex up the movie with some battle scenes . [1350-1400; ME < L Sexus , perh. akin to secare to divide (see SECTION ) ]

*1791American Heritage Dictionary 1605 (5th ed. 2011):

Sex (seks) n . 1a. Sexual activity, especially sexual intercourse: hasn't had sex in months . b . The sexual urge or instinct as it manifests itself in behavior: motivated by sex . 2a . Either of the two divisions, designated female and male, by which most organisms are classified on the basis of their reproductive organs and functions: How do you determine the sex of a lobster? b . The fact or condition of existing in these two divisions, especially the collection of characteristics that distinguish female and male: the evolution of sex in plants; a study that takes sex into account. See Usage Note at gender. 3. Females or males considered as a group: dormitories that house only one sex. 4 . One's identity as either female or male. 5 . The genitals. tr.v. sexed, sex-ing, sex-es 1. To determine the sex of (an organism). 2. Slang a. To arouse sexually. Often used with up . b . To increase the appeal or attractiveness of. Often used with up [Middle English < Latin sexus. ]

C

Statutes Prohibiting Sex Discrimination

• 2 U.S.C. § 658a(2) (Congressional Budget and Fiscal Operations; Federal Mandates)

• 2 U.S.C. § 1311(a)(1) (Congressional Accountability; Extension of Rights and Protections)

• 2 U.S.C. § 1503(2) (Unfunded Mandates Reform)

• 3 U.S.C. § 411(a)(1) (Presidential Offices; Employment Discrimination)

• 5 U.S.C. § 2301(b)(2) (Merit System Principles)

• 5 U.S.C. § 2302(b)(1) (Prohibited Personnel Practices)

• 5 U.S.C. § 7103(a)(4)(A) (Labor-Management Relations; Definitions)

• 5 U.S.C. § 7116(b)(4) (Labor-Management Relations; Unfair Labor Practices)

• 5 U.S.C. § 7201(b) (Antidiscrimination Policy; Minority Recruitment Program)

• 5 U.S.C. § 7204(b) (Antidiscrimination; Other Prohibitions)

• 6 U.S.C. § 488f(b) (Secure Handling of Ammonium Nitrate; Protection From Civil Liability)

• 7 U.S.C. § 2020(c)(1) (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program)

• 8 U.S.C. § 1152(a)(1)(A) (Immigration; Numerical Limitations on Individual Foreign States)

• 8 U.S.C. § 1187(c)(6) (Visa Waiver Program for Certain Visitors)

• 8 U.S.C. § 1522(a)(5) (Authorization for Programs for Domestic Resettlement of and Assistance to Refugees)

• 10 U.S.C. § 932(b)(4) (Uniform Code of Military Justice; Article 132 Retaliation)

• 10 U.S.C. § 1034(j)(3) (Protected Communications; Prohibition of Retaliatory Personnel Actions)

• 12 U.S.C. § 302 (Directors of Federal Reserve Banks; Number of Members; Classes)

• 12 U.S.C. § 1735f-5(a) (Prohibition Against Discrimination on Account of Sex in Extension of Mortgage Assistance)

• 12 U.S.C. § 1821(d)(13)(E)(iv) (Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation; Insurance Funds)

• 12 U.S.C. § 1823(d)(3)(D)(iv) (Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation; Corporation Moneys)

*1792• 12 U.S.C. § 2277a-10c(b)(13)(E)(iv) (Farm Credit System Insurance Corporation; Corporation as Conservator or Receiver; Certain Other Powers)

• 12 U.S.C. § 3015(a)(4) (National Consumer Cooperative Bank; Eligibility of Cooperatives)

• 12 U.S.C. §§ 3106a(1)(B) and (2)(B) (Foreign Bank Participation in Domestic Markets)

• 12 U.S.C. § 4545(1) (Fair Housing)

• 12 U.S.C. § 5390(a)(9)(E)(v) (Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection; Powers and Duties of the Corporation)

• 15 U.S.C. § 631(h) (Aid to Small Business)

• 15 U.S.C. § 633(b)(1) (Small Business Administration)

• 15 U.S.C. § 719 (Alaska Natural Gas Transportation; Civil Rights)

• 15 U.S.C. § 775 (Federal Energy Administration; Sex Discrimination; Enforcement; Other Legal Remedies)

• 15 U.S.C. § 1691(a)(1) (Equal Credit Opportunity Act)

• 15 U.S.C. § 1691d(a) (Equal Credit Opportunity Act)

• 15 U.S.C. § 3151(a) (Full Employment and Balanced Growth; Nondiscrimination)

• 18 U.S.C. § 246 (Deprivation of Relief Benefits)

• 18 U.S.C. § 3593(f) (Special Hearing To Determine Whether a Sentence of Death Is Justified)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1011(a) (Higher Education Resources and Student Assistance; Antidiscrimination)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1011f(h)(5)(D) (Disclosures of Foreign Gifts)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1066c(d) (Historically Black College and University Capital Financing; Limitations on Federal Insurance Bonds Issued by Designated Bonding Authority)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1071(a)(2) (Federal Family Education Loan Program)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1078(c)(2)(F) (Federal Payments To Reduce Student Interest Costs)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1087-1(e) (Federal Family Education Loan Program; Special Allowances)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1087-2(e) (Student Loan Marketing Association)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1087-4 (Discrimination in Secondary Markets Prohibited)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1087tt(c) (Discretion of Student Financial Aid Administrators)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1231e(b)(2) (Education Programs; Use of Funds Withheld)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1681 (Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1701(a)(1) (Equal Educational Opportunities; Congressional Declaration of Policy)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1702(a)(1) (Equal Educational Opportunities; Congressional Findings)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1703 (Denial of Equal Educational Opportunity Prohibited)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1705 (Assignment on Neighborhood Basis Not a Denial of Equal Educational Opportunity)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1715 (District Lines)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1720 (Equal Educational Opportunities; Definitions)

• 20 U.S.C. § 1756 (Remedies With Respect to School District Lines)

• 20 U.S.C. § 2396 (Career and Technical Education; Federal Laws Guaranteeing Civil Rights)

*1793• 20 U.S.C. § 3401(2) (Department of Education; Congressional Findings)

• 20 U.S.C. § 7231d(b)(2)(C) (Magnet Schools Assistance; Applications and Requirements)

• 20 U.S.C. § 7914 (Strengthening and Improvement of Elementary and Secondary Schools; Civil Rights)

• 22 U.S.C. § 262p-4n (Foreign Relations and Intercourse; Equal Employment Opportunities)

• 22 U.S.C. § 2304(a)(1) (Human Rights and Security Assistance)

• 22 U.S.C. § 2314(g) (Furnishing of Defense Articles or Related Training or Other Defense Service on Grant Basis)

• 22 U.S.C. § 2426 (Discrimination Against United States Personnel)

• 22 U.S.C. § 2504(a) (Peace Corps Volunteers)

• 22 U.S.C. § 2661a (Foreign Contracts or Arrangements; Discrimination)

• 22 U.S.C. § 2755 (Discrimination Prohibited if Based on Race, Religion, National Origin, or Sex)

• 22 U.S.C. § 3901(b)(2) (Foreign Service; Congressional Findings and Objectives)

• 22 U.S.C. § 3905(b)(1) (Foreign Service; Personnel Actions)

• 22 U.S.C. § 4102(11)(A) (Foreign Service; Definitions)

• 22 U.S.C. § 4115(b)(4) (Foreign Service; Unfair Labor Practices)

• 22 U.S.C. § 6401(a)(3) (International Religious Freedom; Findings; Policy)

• 22 U.S.C. § 8303(c)(2) (Office of Volunteers for Prosperity)

• 23 U.S.C. § 140(a) (Federal-Aid Highways; Nondiscrimination)

• 23 U.S.C. § 324 (Highways; Prohibition of Discrimination on the Basis of Sex)

• 25 U.S.C. § 4223(d)(2) (Housing Assistance for Native Hawaiians)

• 26 U.S.C. § 7471(a)(6)(A) (Tax Court; Employees)

• 28 U.S.C. § 994(d) (Duties of the United States Sentencing Commission)

• 28 U.S.C. § 1862 (Trial by Jury; Discrimination Prohibited)

• 28 U.S.C. § 1867(e) (Trial by Jury; Challenging Compliance With Selection Procedures)

• 29 U.S.C. § 206(d)(1) (Equal Pay Act of 1963)

• 29 U.S.C. §§ 2601(a)(6) and (b)(4) (Family and Medical Leave; Findings and Purposes)

• 29 U.S.C. § 2651(a) (Family and Medical Leave; Effect on Other Laws)

• 29 U.S.C. § 3248 (Workforce Development Opportunities; Nondiscrimination)

• 30 U.S.C. § 1222(c) (Research Funds to Institutes)

• 31 U.S.C. § 732(f) (Government Accountability Office; Personnel Management System)

• 31 U.S.C. § 6711 (Federal Payments; Prohibited Discrimination)

• 31 U.S.C. § 6720(a)(8) (Federal Payments; Definitions, Application, and Administration)

• 34 U.S.C. § 10228(c) (Prohibition of Federal Control Over State and Local Criminal Justice Agencies; Prohibition of Discrimination)

• 34 U.S.C. § 11133(a)(16) (Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention; State Plans)

• 34 U.S.C. § 12161(g) (Community Schools Youth Services and Supervision Grant Program)

*1794• 34 U.S.C. § 12361 (Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement; Civil Rights for Women)

• 34 U.S.C. § 20110(e) (Crime Victims Fund; Administration Provisions)

• 34 U.S.C. § 50104(a) (Emergency Federal Law Enforcement Assistance)

• 36 U.S.C. § 20204(b) (Air Force Sergeants Association; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 20205(c) (Air Force Sergeants Association; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 21003(a)(4) (American GI Forum of the United States; Purposes)

• 36 U.S.C. § 21004(b) (American GI Forum of the United States; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 21005(c) (American GI Forum of the United States; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 21704A (The American Legion)

• 36 U.S.C. § 22703(c) (Amvets; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 22704(d) (Amvets; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 60104(b) (82nd Airborne Division Association, Incorporated; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 60105(c) (82nd Airborne Division Association, Incorporated; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 70104(b) (Fleet Reserve Association; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 70105(c) (Fleet Reserve Association; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 140704(b) (Military Order of the World Wars; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 140705(c) (Military Order of the World Wars; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 154704(b) (Non Commissioned Officers Association of the United States of America, Incorporated; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 154705(c) (Non Commissioned Officers Association of the United States of America, Incorporated; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 190304(b) (Retired Enlisted Association, Incorporated; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 190305(c) (Retired Enlisted Association, Incorporated; Governing Body)

• 36 U.S.C. § 220522(a)(8) and (9) (United States Olympic Committee; Eligibility Requirements)

• 36 U.S.C. § 230504(b) (Vietnam Veterans of America, Inc.; Membership)

• 36 U.S.C. § 230505(c) (Vietnam Veterans of America, Inc.; Governing Body)

• 40 U.S.C. § 122(a) (Federal Property and Administrative Services; Prohibition on Sex Discrimination)

• 40 U.S.C. § 14702 (Appalachian Regional Development; Nondiscrimination)

• 42 U.S.C. § 213(f) (Military Benefits)

• 42 U.S.C. § 290cc-33(a) (Projects for Assistance in Transition From Homelessness)

• 42 U.S.C. § 290ff-1(e)(2)(C) (Children With Serious Emotional Disturbances; Requirements With Respect to Carrying Out Purpose of Grants)

• 42 U.S.C. § 295m (Public Health Service; Prohibition Against Discrimination on Basis of Sex)

• 42 U.S.C. § 296g (Public Health Service; Prohibition Against Discrimination by Schools on Basis of Sex)

• 42 U.S.C. § 300w-7(a)(2) (Preventive Health and Health Services Block Grants; Nondiscrimination Provisions)

*1795• 42 U.S.C. § 300x-57(a)(2) (Block Grants Regarding Mental Health and Substance Abuse; Nondiscrimination)

• 42 U.S.C. § 603(a)(5)(I)(iii) (Block Grants to States for Temporary Assistance for Needy Families)

• 42 U.S.C. § 708(a)(2) (Maternal and Child Health Services Block Grant; Nondiscrimination Provisions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 1975a(a) (Duties of Civil Rights Commission)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000c(b) (Civil Rights; Public Education; Definitions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000c-6(a)(2) (Civil Rights; Public Education; Civil Actions by the Attorney General)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2 (Equal Employment Opportunities; Unlawful Employment Practices)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-3(b) (Equal Employment Opportunities; Other Unlawful Employment Practices)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-16(a) (Employment by Federal Government)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-16a(b) (Government Employee Rights Act of 1991)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-16b(a)(1) (Discriminatory Practices Prohibited)

• 42 U.S.C. § 2000h-2 (Intervention by Attorney General; Denial of Equal Protection on Account of Race, Color, Religion, Sex or National Origin)

• 42 U.S.C. § 3123 (Discrimination on Basis of Sex Prohibited in Federally Assisted Programs)

• 42 U.S.C. § 3604 (Fair Housing Act; Discrimination in the Sale or Rental of Housing and Other Prohibited Practices)

• 42 U.S.C. § 3605 (Fair Housing Act; Discrimination in Residential Real Estate-Related Transactions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 3606 (Fair Housing Act; Discrimination in the Provision of Brokerage Services)

• 42 U.S.C. § 3631 (Fair Housing Act; Violations; Penalties)

• 42 U.S.C. § 4701 (Intergovernmental Personnel Program; Congressional Findings and Declaration of Policy)

• 42 U.S.C. § 5057(a)(1) (Domestic Volunteer Services; Nondiscrimination Provisions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 5151(a) (Nondiscrimination in Disaster Assistance)

• 42 U.S.C. § 5309(a) (Community Development; Nondiscrimination in Programs and Activities)

• 42 U.S.C. § 5891 (Development of Energy Sources; Sex Discrimination Prohibited)

• 42 U.S.C. § 6709 (Public Works Employment; Sex Discrimination; Prohibition; Enforcement)

• 42 U.S.C. § 6727(a)(1) (Public Works Employment; Nondiscrimination)

• 42 U.S.C. § 6870(a) (Weatherization Assistance for Low-Income Persons)

• 42 U.S.C. § 8625(a) (Low-Income Home Energy Assistance; Nondiscrimination Provisions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 9821 (Community Economic Development; Nondiscrimination Provisions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 9849 (Head Start Programs; Nondiscrimination Provisions)

• 42 U.S.C. § 9918(c)(1) (Community Services Block Grant Program; Limitations on Use of Funds)

• 42 U.S.C. § 10406(c)(2)(B)(i) (Family Violence Prevention and Services; Formula Grants to States)

• 42 U.S.C. § 11504(b) (Enterprise Zone Development; Waiver of Modification *1796of Housing and Community Development Rules in Enterprise Zones)

• 42 U.S.C. § 12635(a)(1) (National and Community Service State Grant Program; Nondiscrimination)

• 42 U.S.C. § 12832 (Investment in Affordable Housing; Nondiscrimination)

• 43 U.S.C. § 1747(10) (Loans to States and Political Subdivisions; Discrimination Prohibited)

• 43 U.S.C. § 1863 (Outer Continental Shelf Resource Management; Unlawful Employment Practices; Regulations)

• 47 U.S.C. § 151 (Federal Communications Commission)

• 47 U.S.C. § 398(b)(1) (Public Broadcasting; Equal Opportunity Employment)

• 47 U.S.C. §§ 554(b) and (c) (Cable Communications; Equal Employment Opportunity)

• 47 U.S.C. § 555a(c) (Cable Communications; Limitation of Franchising Authority Liability)

• 48 U.S.C. § 1542(a) (Virgin Islands; Voting Franchise; Discrimination Prohibited)

• 48 U.S.C. § 1708 (Discrimination Prohibited in Rights of Access to, and Benefits From, Conveyed Lands)

• 49 U.S.C. § 306(b) (Duties of the Secretary of Transportation; Prohibited Discrimination)

• 49 U.S.C. § 5332(b) (Public Transportation; Nondiscrimination)

• 49 U.S.C. § 40127 (Air Commerce and Safety; Prohibitions on Discrimination)

• 49 U.S.C. § 47123(a) (Airport Improvement; Nondiscrimination)

• 50 U.S.C. § 3809(b)(3) (Selective Service System)

• 50 U.S.C. § 4842(a)(1)(B) (Anti-Boycott Act of 2018)

D

*1797*1798*1799*1800*1801*1802*1803*1804*1805*1806*1807*1808*1809*1810*1811*1812*1813*1814*1815*1816*1817*1818*1819*1820*1821*1822Justice KAVANAUGH, dissenting.

Like many cases in this Court, this case boils down to one fundamental question: Who decides? Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits employment discrimination "because of " an individual's "race, color, religion, sex, or national origin." The question here is whether Title VII should be expanded to prohibit employment discrimination because of sexual orientation. Under the Constitution's separation of powers, the responsibility to amend Title VII belongs to Congress and the President in the legislative process, not to this Court.

The political branches are well aware of this issue. In 2007, the U.S. House of Representatives voted 235 to 184 to prohibit employment discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. In 2013, the U.S. Senate voted 64 to 32 in favor of a similar ban. In 2019, the House again voted 236 to 173 to outlaw employment discrimination *1823on the basis of sexual orientation. Although both the House and Senate have voted at different times to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination, the two Houses have not yet come together with the President to enact a bill into law.

The policy arguments for amending Title VII are very weighty. The Court has previously stated, and I fully agree, that gay and lesbian Americans "cannot be treated as social outcasts or as inferior in dignity and worth." Masterpiece Cakeshop, Ltd. v. Colorado Civil Rights Comm'n , 584 U.S. ----, ----, 138 S.Ct. 1719, 1727, 201 L.Ed.2d 35 (2018).

But we are judges, not Members of Congress. And in Alexander Hamilton's words, federal judges exercise "neither Force nor Will, but merely judgment." The Federalist No. 78, p. 523 (J. Cooke ed. 1961). Under the Constitution's separation of powers, our role as judges is to interpret and follow the law as written, regardless of whether we like the result. Cf. Texas v. Johnson , 491 U.S. 397, 420-421, 109 S.Ct. 2533, 105 L.Ed.2d 342 (1989) (Kennedy, J., concurring). Our role is not to make or amend the law. As written, Title VII does not prohibit employment discrimination because of sexual orientation.1

I

Title VII makes it unlawful for employers to discriminate because of "race, color, religion, sex, or national origin." 42 U.S.C. § 2000e-2(a)(1).2 As enacted in 1964, Title VII did not prohibit other forms of employment discrimination, such as age discrimination, disability discrimination, or sexual orientation discrimination.

Over time, Congress has enacted new employment discrimination laws. In 1967, Congress passed and President Johnson signed the Age Discrimination in Employment Act. 81 Stat. 602. In 1973, Congress passed and President Nixon signed the Rehabilitation Act, which in substance prohibited disability discrimination against federal and certain other employees. 87 Stat. 355. In 1990, Congress passed and President George H. W. Bush signed the comprehensive Americans with Disabilities Act. 104 Stat. 327.

To prohibit age discrimination and disability discrimination, this Court did not unilaterally rewrite or update the law. Rather, Congress and the President enacted new legislation, as prescribed by the Constitution's separation of powers.

*1824For several decades, Congress has considered numerous bills to prohibit employment discrimination based on sexual orientation. But as noted above, although Congress has come close, it has not yet shouldered a bill over the legislative finish line.

In the face of the unsuccessful legislative efforts (so far) to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination, judges may not rewrite the law simply because of their own policy views. Judges may not update the law merely because they think that Congress does not have the votes or the fortitude. Judges may not predictively amend the law just because they believe that Congress is likely to do it soon anyway.

If judges could rewrite laws based on their own policy views, or based on their own assessments of likely future legislative action, the critical distinction between legislative authority and judicial authority that undergirds the Constitution's separation of powers would collapse, thereby threatening the impartial rule of law and individual liberty. As James Madison stated: "Were the power of judging joined with the legislative, the life and liberty of the subject would be exposed to arbitrary controul, for the judge would then be the legislator ." The Federalist No. 47, at 326 (citing Montesquieu). If judges could, for example, rewrite or update securities laws or healthcare laws or gun laws or environmental laws simply based on their own policy views, the Judiciary would become a democratically illegitimate super-legislature-unelected, and hijacking the important policy decisions reserved by the Constitution to the people's elected representatives.

Because judges interpret the law as written, not as they might wish it were written, the first 10 U.S. Courts of Appeals to consider whether Title VII prohibits sexual orientation discrimination all said no. Some 30 federal judges considered the question. All 30 judges said no, based on the text of the statute. 30 out of 30.

But in the last few years, a new theory has emerged. To end-run the bedrock separation-of-powers principle that courts may not unilaterally rewrite statutes, the plaintiffs here (and, recently, two Courts of Appeals) have advanced a novel and creative argument. They contend that discrimination "because of sexual orientation" and discrimination "because of sex" are actually not separate categories of discrimination after all. Instead, the theory goes, discrimination because of sexual orientation always qualifies as discrimination because of sex: When a gay man is fired because he is gay, he is fired because he is attracted to men, even though a similarly situated woman would not be fired just because she is attracted to men. According to this theory, it follows that the man has been fired, at least as a literal matter, because of his sex.

Under this literalist approach, sexual orientation discrimination automatically qualifies as sex discrimination, and Title VII's prohibition against sex discrimination therefore also prohibits sexual orientation discrimination-and actually has done so since 1964, unbeknownst to everyone. Surprisingly, the Court today buys into this approach. Ante , at 1758 - 1760.

For the sake of argument, I will assume that firing someone because of their sexual orientation may, as a very literal matter, entail making a distinction based on sex. But to prevail in this case with their literalist approach, the plaintiffs must also establish one of two other points. The plaintiffs must establish that courts, when interpreting a statute, adhere to literal meaning rather than ordinary meaning. Or alternatively, the plaintiffs must establish that the ordinary meaning of "discriminate *1825because of sex"-not just the literal meaning-encompasses sexual orientation discrimination. The plaintiffs fall short on both counts.

First , courts must follow ordinary meaning, not literal meaning. And courts must adhere to the ordinary meaning of phrases, not just the meaning of the words in a phrase.

There is no serious debate about the foundational interpretive principle that courts adhere to ordinary meaning, not literal meaning, when interpreting statutes. As Justice Scalia explained, "the good textualist is not a literalist." A. Scalia, A Matter of Interpretation 24 (1997). Or as Professor Eskridge stated: The "prime directive in statutory interpretation is to apply the meaning that a reasonable reader would derive from the text of the law," so that "for hard cases as well as easy ones, the ordinary meaning (or the 'everyday meaning' or the 'commonsense' reading) of the relevant statutory text is the anchor for statutory interpretation." W. Eskridge, Interpreting Law 33, 34-35 (2016) (footnote omitted). Or as Professor Manning put it, proper statutory interpretation asks "how a reasonable person, conversant with the relevant social and linguistic conventions, would read the text in context. This approach recognizes that the literal or dictionary definitions of words will often fail to account for settled nuances or background conventions that qualify the literal meaning of language and, in particular, of legal language." Manning, The Absurdity Doctrine, 116 Harv. L. Rev. 2387, 2392-2393 (2003). Or as Professor Nelson wrote: No "mainstream judge is interested solely in the literal definitions of a statute's words." Nelson, What Is Textualism?, 91 Va. L. Rev. 347, 376 (2005). The ordinary meaning that counts is the ordinary public meaning at the time of enactment-although in this case, that temporal principle matters little because the ordinary meaning of "discriminate because of sex" was the same in 1964 as it is now.

Judges adhere to ordinary meaning for two main reasons: rule of law and democratic accountability. A society governed by the rule of law must have laws that are known and understandable to the citizenry. And judicial adherence to ordinary meaning facilitates the democratic accountability of America's elected representatives for the laws they enact. Citizens and legislators must be able to ascertain the law by reading the words of the statute. Both the rule of law and democratic accountability badly suffer when a court adopts a hidden or obscure interpretation of the law, and not its ordinary meaning.

Consider a simple example of how ordinary meaning differs from literal meaning. A statutory ban on "vehicles in the park" would literally encompass a baby stroller. But no good judge would interpret the statute that way because the word "vehicle," in its ordinary meaning, does not encompass baby strollers.

The ordinary meaning principle is longstanding and well settled. Time and again, this Court has rejected literalism in favor of ordinary meaning. Take a few examples:

The Court recognized that beans may be seeds "in the language of botany or natural history," but concluded that beans are not seeds "in commerce" or "in common parlance." Robertson v. Salomon , 130 U.S. 412, 414, 9 S.Ct. 559, 32 L.Ed. 995 (1889).

The Court explained that tomatoes are literally "the fruit of a vine," but "in the common language of the people," tomatoes are vegetables. Nix v. Hedden , 149 U.S. 304, 307, 13 S.Ct. 881, 37 L.Ed. 745 (1893).

The Court stated that the statutory term "vehicle" does not cover an aircraft: "No doubt etymologically it is possible to use the word to signify a conveyance working *1826on land, water or air .... But in everyday speech 'vehicle' calls up the picture of a thing moving on land." McBoyle v. United States , 283 U.S. 25, 26, 51 S.Ct. 340, 75 L.Ed. 816 (1931).

The Court pointed out that "this Court's interpretation of the three-judge-court statutes has frequently deviated from the path of literalism." Gonzalez v. Automatic Employees Credit Union , 419 U.S. 90, 96, 95 S.Ct. 289, 42 L.Ed.2d 249 (1974).

The Court refused a reading of "mineral deposits" that would include water, even if "water is a 'mineral,' in the broadest sense of that word," because it would bring about a "major ... alteration in established legal relationships based on nothing more than an overly literal reading of a statute, without any regard for its context or history." Andrus v. Charlestone Stone Products Co. , 436 U.S. 604, 610, 616, 98 S.Ct. 2002, 56 L.Ed.2d 570 (1978).

The Court declined to interpret "facilitating" a drug distribution crime in a way that would cover purchasing drugs, because the "literal sweep of 'facilitate' sits uncomfortably with common usage." Abuelhawa v. United States , 556 U.S. 816, 820, 129 S.Ct. 2102, 173 L.Ed.2d 982 (2009).

The Court rebuffed a literal reading of "personnel rules" that would encompass any rules that personnel must follow (as opposed to human resources rules about personnel), and stated that no one "using ordinary language would describe" personnel rules "in this manner." Milner v. Department of Navy , 562 U.S. 562, 578, 131 S.Ct. 1259, 179 L.Ed.2d 268 (2011).

The Court explained that, when construing statutory phrases such as "arising from," it avoids "uncritical literalism leading to results that no sensible person could have intended." Jennings v. Rodriguez , 583 U.S. ----, ---- - ----, 138 S.Ct. 830, 840, 200 L.Ed.2d 122 (2018) (plurality opinion) (internal quotation marks omitted).

Those cases exemplify a deeply rooted principle: When there is a divide between the literal meaning and the ordinary meaning, courts must follow the ordinary meaning.

Next is a critical point of emphasis in this case. The difference between literal and ordinary meaning becomes especially important when-as in this case-judges consider phrases in statutes. (Recall that the shorthand version of the phrase at issue here is "discriminate because of sex.")3 Courts must heed the ordinary meaning of the phrase as a whole , not just the meaning of the words in the phrase. That is because a phrase may have a more precise or confined meaning than the literal meaning of the individual words in the phrase. Examples abound. An "American flag" could literally encompass a flag made in America, but in common parlance it denotes the Stars and Stripes. A "three-pointer" could literally include a field goal in football, but in common parlance, it is a shot from behind the arc in basketball. A "cold war" could literally mean any wintertime war, but in common parlance it signifies a conflict short of open warfare. A "washing machine" could literally refer to any machine used for washing any item, but in everyday speech it means a machine for washing clothes.

This Court has often emphasized the importance of sticking to the ordinary meaning of a phrase , rather than the *1827meaning of words in the phrase. In FCC v. AT&T Inc. , 562 U.S. 397, 131 S.Ct. 1177, 179 L.Ed.2d 132 (2011), for example, the Court explained:

"AT&T's argument treats the term 'personal privacy' as simply the sum of its two words: the privacy of a person.... But two words together may assume a more particular meaning than those words in isolation. We understand a golden cup to be a cup made of or resembling gold. A golden boy, on the other hand, is one who is charming, lucky, and talented. A golden opportunity is one not to be missed. 'Personal' in the phrase 'personal privacy' conveys more than just 'of a person.' It suggests a type of privacy evocative of human concerns-not the sort usually associated with an entity like, say, AT&T." Id., at 406, 131 S.Ct. 1177.

Exactly right and exactly on point in this case.

Justice Scalia explained the extraordinary importance of hewing to the ordinary meaning of a phrase: "Adhering to the fair meaning of the text (the textualist's touchstone) does not limit one to the hyperliteral meaning of each word in the text. In the words of Learned Hand: 'a sterile literalism ... loses sight of the forest for the trees.' The full body of a text contains implications that can alter the literal meaning of individual words." A. Scalia & B. Garner, Reading Law 356 (2012) (footnote omitted). Put another way, "the meaning of a sentence may be more than that of the separate words, as a melody is more than the notes." Helvering v. Gregory , 69 F.2d 809, 810-811 (CA2 1934) (L. Hand, J.). Judges must take care to follow ordinary meaning "when two words combine to produce a meaning that is not the mechanical composition of the two words separately." Eskridge, Interpreting Law, at 62. Dictionaries are not "always useful for determining the ordinary meaning of word clusters (like 'driving a vehicle') or phrases and clauses or entire sentences." Id. , at 44. And we must recognize that a phrase can cover a "dramatically smaller category than either component term." Id., at 62.

If the usual evidence indicates that a statutory phrase bears an ordinary meaning different from the literal strung-together definitions of the individual words in the phrase, we may not ignore or gloss over that discrepancy. "Legislation cannot sensibly be interpreted by stringing together dictionary synonyms of each word and proclaiming that, if the right example of the meaning of each is selected, the 'plain meaning' of the statute leads to a particular result. No theory of interpretation, including textualism itself, is premised on such an approach." 883 F.3d 100, 144, n. 7 (CA2 2018) (Lynch, J., dissenting).4

In other words, this Court's precedents and longstanding principles of statutory interpretation teach a clear lesson: Do not simply split statutory phrases into their component words, look up each in a dictionary, and then mechanically put them together again, as the majority opinion today mistakenly does. See ante , at 1756 - 1759. To reiterate Justice Scalia's caution, that approach misses the forest for the trees.

*1828A literalist approach to interpreting phrases disrespects ordinary meaning and deprives the citizenry of fair notice of what the law is. It destabilizes the rule of law and thwarts democratic accountability. For phrases as well as terms, the "linchpin of statutory interpretation is ordinary meaning , for that is going to be most accessible to the citizenry desirous of following the law and to the legislators and their staffs drafting the legal terms of the plans launched by statutes and to the administrators and judges implementing the statutory plan." Eskridge, Interpreting Law, at 81; see Scalia, A Matter of Interpretation, at 17.

Bottom line: Statutory Interpretation 101 instructs courts to follow ordinary meaning, not literal meaning, and to adhere to the ordinary meaning of phrases, not just the meaning of the words in a phrase.

Second , in light of the bedrock principle that we must adhere to the ordinary meaning of a phrase, the question in this case boils down to the ordinary meaning of the phrase "discriminate because of sex." Does the ordinary meaning of that phrase encompass discrimination because of sexual orientation? The answer is plainly no.

On occasion, it can be difficult for judges to assess ordinary meaning. Not here. Both common parlance and common legal usage treat sex discrimination and sexual orientation discrimination as two distinct categories of discrimination-back in 1964 and still today.

As to common parlance, few in 1964 (or today) would describe a firing because of sexual orientation as a firing because of sex. As commonly understood, sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination. The majority opinion acknowledges the common understanding, noting that the plaintiffs here probably did not tell their friends that they were fired because of their sex. Ante , at 1762 - 1763. That observation is clearly correct. In common parlance, Bostock and Zarda were fired because they were gay, not because they were men.

Contrary to the majority opinion's approach today, this Court has repeatedly emphasized that common parlance matters in assessing the ordinary meaning of a statute, because courts heed how "most people" "would have understood" the text of a statute when enacted. New Prime Inc. v. Oliveira , 586 U.S. ----, ---- - ----, 139 S.Ct. 532, 538-539, 202 L.Ed.2d 536 (2019) ; see Henson v. Santander Consumer USA Inc. , 582 U.S. ----, ----, 137 S.Ct. 1718, 1722, 198 L.Ed.2d 177 (2017) (using a conversation between friends to demonstrate ordinary meaning); see also Wisconsin Central Ltd. v. United States , 585 U.S. ----, ---- - ----, 138 S.Ct. 2067, 2070-2071, 201 L.Ed.2d 490 (2018) (similar); AT&T , 562 U.S. at 403-404, 131 S.Ct. 1177 (similar).

Consider the employer who has four employees but must fire two of them for financial reasons. Suppose the four employees are a straight man, a straight woman, a gay man, and a lesbian. The employer with animosity against women (animosity based on sex) will fire the two women. The employer with animosity against gays (animosity based on sexual orientation) will fire the gay man and the lesbian. Those are two distinct harms caused by two distinct biases that have two different outcomes. To treat one as a form of the other-as the majority opinion does-misapprehends common language, human psychology, and real life. See Hively v. Ivy Tech Community College of Ind. , 853 F.3d 339, 363 (CA7 2017) (Sykes, J., dissenting).

It also rewrites history. Seneca Falls was not Stonewall. The women's rights *1829movement was not (and is not) the gay rights movement, although many people obviously support or participate in both. So to think that sexual orientation discrimination is just a form of sex discrimination is not just a mistake of language and psychology, but also a mistake of history and sociology.

Importantly, an overwhelming body of federal law reflects and reinforces the ordinary meaning and demonstrates that sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination. Since enacting Title VII in 1964, Congress has never treated sexual orientation discrimination the same as, or as a form of, sex discrimination. Instead, Congress has consistently treated sex discrimination and sexual orientation discrimination as legally distinct categories of discrimination.

Many federal statutes prohibit sex discrimination, and many federal statutes also prohibit sexual orientation discrimination. But those sexual orientation statutes expressly prohibit sexual orientation discrimination in addition to expressly prohibiting sex discrimination. Every single one. To this day, Congress has never defined sex discrimination to encompass sexual orientation discrimination. Instead, when Congress wants to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination in addition to sex discrimination, Congress explicitly refers to sexual orientation discrimination.5

That longstanding and widespread congressional practice matters. When interpreting statutes, as the Court has often said, we "usually presume differences in language" convey "differences in meaning." Wisconsin Central , 585 U.S., at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 2071 (internal quotation marks omitted). When Congress chooses distinct phrases to accomplish distinct purposes, and does so over and over again for decades, we may not lightly toss aside all of Congress's careful handiwork. As Justice Scalia explained for the Court, "it is not our function" to "treat alike subjects that different Congresses have chosen to treat differently." West Virginia Univ. Hospitals, Inc. v. Casey , 499 U.S. 83, 101, 111 S.Ct. 1138, 113 L.Ed.2d 68 (1991) ; see id., at 92, 111 S.Ct. 1138.

And the Court has likewise stressed that we may not read "a specific concept into general words when precise language in other statutes reveals that Congress knew how to identify that concept." Eskridge, Interpreting Law, at 415; see University of Tex. Southwestern Medical Center v. Nassar , 570 U.S. 338, 357, 133 S.Ct. 2517, 186 L.Ed.2d 503 (2013) ; Arlington Central School Dist. Bd. of Ed. v. Murphy , 548 U.S. 291, 297-298, 126 S.Ct. 2455, 165 L.Ed.2d 526 (2006) ;

*1830Jama v. Immigration and Customs Enforcement , 543 U.S. 335, 341-342, 125 S.Ct. 694, 160 L.Ed.2d 708 (2005) ; Custis v. United States , 511 U.S. 485, 491-493, 114 S.Ct. 1732, 128 L.Ed.2d 517 (1994) ; West Virginia Univ. Hospitals , 499 U.S. at 99, 111 S.Ct. 1138.

So it is here. As demonstrated by all of the statutes covering sexual orientation discrimination, Congress knows how to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination. So courts should not read that specific concept into the general words "discriminate because of sex." We cannot close our eyes to the indisputable fact that Congress-for several decades in a large number of statutes-has identified sex discrimination and sexual orientation discrimination as two distinct categories.

Where possible, we also strive to interpret statutes so as not to create undue surplusage. It is not uncommon to find some scattered redundancies in statutes. But reading sex discrimination to encompass sexual orientation discrimination would cast aside as surplusage the numerous references to sexual orientation discrimination sprinkled throughout the U.S. Code in laws enacted over the last 25 years.

In short, an extensive body of federal law both reflects and reinforces the widespread understanding that sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination.

The story is the same with bills proposed in Congress. Since the 1970s, Members of Congress have introduced many bills to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination in the workplace. Until very recently, all of those bills would have expressly established sexual orientation as a separately proscribed category of discrimination. The bills did not define sex discrimination to encompass sexual orientation discrimination.6

The proposed bills are telling not because they are relevant to congressional intent regarding Title VII. See Central Bank of Denver, N.A. v. First Interstate Bank of Denver, N.A. , 511 U.S. 164, 186-188, 114 S.Ct. 1439, 128 L.Ed.2d 119 (1994). Rather, the proposed bills are telling because they, like the enacted laws, further demonstrate the widespread usage of the English language in the United States: Sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination.

*1831Presidential Executive Orders reflect that same common understanding. In 1967, President Johnson signed an Executive Order prohibiting sex discrimination in federal employment. In 1969, President Nixon issued a new order that did the same. Exec. Order No. 11375, 3 CFR 684 (1966-1970 Comp.); Exec. Order No. 11478, id., at 803. In 1998, President Clinton charted a new path and signed an Executive Order prohibiting sexual orientation discrimination in federal employment. Exec. Order No. 13087, 3 CFR 191 (1999). The Nixon and Clinton Executive Orders remain in effect today.

Like the relevant federal statutes, the 1998 Clinton Executive Order expressly added sexual orientation as a new, separately prohibited form of discrimination. As Judge Lynch cogently spelled out, "the Clinton Administration did not argue that the prohibition of sex discrimination in" the prior 1969 Executive Order "already banned, or henceforth would be deemed to ban, sexual orientation discrimination." 883 F.3d at 152, n. 22 (dissenting opinion). In short, President Clinton's 1998 Executive Order indicates that the Executive Branch, like Congress, has long understood sexual orientation discrimination to be distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination.

Federal regulations likewise reflect that same understanding. The Office of Personnel Management is the federal agency that administers and enforces personnel rules across the Federal Government. OPM has issued regulations that "govern ... the employment practices of the Federal Government generally, and of individual agencies." 5 CFR §§ 300.101, 300.102 (2019). Like the federal statutes and the Presidential Executive Orders, those OPM regulations separately prohibit sex discrimination and sexual orientation discrimination.

The States have proceeded in the same fashion. A majority of States prohibit sexual orientation discrimination in employment, either by legislation applying to most workers,7 an executive order applying *1832to public employees,8 or both. Almost every state statute or executive order proscribing sexual orientation discrimination expressly prohibits sexual orientation discrimination separately from the State's ban on sex discrimination.

That common usage in the States underscores that sexual orientation discrimination is commonly understood as a legal concept distinct from sex discrimination.

And it is the common understanding in this Court as well. Since 1971, the Court has employed rigorous or heightened constitutional scrutiny of laws that classify on the basis of sex. See United States v. Virginia , 518 U.S. 515, 531-533, 116 S.Ct. 2264, 135 L.Ed.2d 735 (1996) ; J. E. B. v. Alabama ex rel. T. B. , 511 U.S. 127, 136-137, 114 S.Ct. 1419, 128 L.Ed.2d 89 (1994) ; Craig v. Boren , 429 U.S. 190, 197-199, 97 S.Ct. 451, 50 L.Ed.2d 397 (1976) ; Frontiero v. Richardson , 411 U.S. 677, 682-684, 93 S.Ct. 1764, 36 L.Ed.2d 583 (1973) (plurality opinion); Reed v. Reed , 404 U.S. 71, 75-77, 92 S.Ct. 251, 30 L.Ed.2d 225 (1971). Over the last several decades, the Court has also decided many cases involving sexual orientation. But in those cases, the Court never suggested that sexual orientation discrimination is just a form of sex discrimination.

*1833All of the Court's cases from Bowers to Romer to Lawrence to Windsor to Obergefell would have been far easier to analyze and decide if sexual orientation discrimination were just a form of sex discrimination and therefore received the same heightened scrutiny as sex discrimination under the Equal Protection Clause. See Bowers v. Hardwick , 478 U.S. 186, 106 S.Ct. 2841, 92 L.Ed.2d 140 (1986) ; Romer v. Evans , 517 U.S. 620, 116 S.Ct. 1620, 134 L.Ed.2d 855 (1996) ; Lawrence v. Texas , 539 U.S. 558, 123 S.Ct. 2472, 156 L.Ed.2d 508 (2003) ; United States v. Windsor , 570 U.S. 744, 133 S.Ct. 2675, 186 L.Ed.2d 808 (2013) ; Obergefell v. Hodges , 576 U.S. 644, 135 S.Ct. 2584, 192 L.Ed.2d 609 (2015).

Did the Court in all of those sexual orientation cases just miss that obvious answer-and overlook the fact that sexual orientation discrimination is actually a form of sex discrimination? That seems implausible. Nineteen Justices have participated in those cases. Not a single Justice stated or even hinted that sexual orientation discrimination was just a form of sex discrimination and therefore entitled to the same heightened scrutiny under the Equal Protection Clause. The opinions in those five cases contain no trace of such reasoning. That is presumably because everyone on this Court, too, has long understood that sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination.

In sum, all of the usual indicators of ordinary meaning-common parlance, common usage by Congress, the practice in the Executive Branch, the laws in the States, and the decisions of this Court-overwhelmingly establish that sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination. The usage has been consistent across decades, in both the federal and state contexts.

Judge Sykes summarized the law and language this way: "To a fluent speaker of the English language-then and now-... discrimination 'because of sex' is not reasonably understood to include discrimination based on sexual orientation, a different immutable characteristic. Classifying people by sexual orientation is different than classifying them by sex. The two traits are categorically distinct and widely recognized as such. There is no ambiguity or vagueness here." Hively , 853 F.3d at 363 (dissenting opinion).

To tie it all together, the plaintiffs have only two routes to succeed here. Either they can say that literal meaning overrides ordinary meaning when the two conflict. Or they can say that the ordinary meaning of the phrase "discriminate because of sex" encompasses sexual orientation discrimination. But the first flouts long-settled principles of statutory interpretation. And the second contradicts the widespread ordinary use of the English language in America.

II

Until the last few years, every U.S. Court of Appeals to address this question concluded that Title VII does not prohibit discrimination because of sexual orientation. As noted above, in the first 10 Courts of Appeals to consider the issue, all 30 federal judges agreed that Title VII does not prohibit sexual orientation discrimination. 30 out of 30 judges.9

*1834The unanimity of those 30 federal judges shows that the question as a matter of law, as compared to as a matter of policy, was not deemed close. Those 30 judges realized a seemingly obvious point: Title VII is not a general grant of authority for judges to fashion an evolving common law of equal treatment in the workplace. Rather, Title VII identifies certain specific categories of prohibited discrimination. And under the separation of powers, Congress-not the courts-possesses the authority to amend or update the law, as Congress has done with age discrimination and disability discrimination, for example.

So what changed from the situation only a few years ago when 30 out of 30 federal judges had agreed on this question? Not the text of Title VII. The law has not changed. Rather, the judges' decisions have evolved.

To be sure, the majority opinion today does not openly profess that it is judicially updating or amending Title VII. Cf. Hively , 853 F.3d at 357 (Posner, J., concurring). But the majority opinion achieves the same outcome by seizing on literal meaning and overlooking the ordinary meaning of the phrase "discriminate because of sex." Although the majority opinion acknowledges that the meaning of a phrase and the meaning of a phrase's individual words could differ, it dismisses phrasal meaning for purposes of this case. The majority opinion repeatedly seizes on the meaning of the statute's individual terms, mechanically puts them back together, and generates an interpretation of the phrase "discriminate because of sex" that is literal. See ante , at 1756 - 1759, 1763, 1766 - 1768. But to reiterate, that approach to statutory interpretation is fundamentally flawed. Bedrock principles of statutory interpretation dictate that we look to ordinary meaning, not literal meaning, and that we likewise adhere to the ordinary meaning of phrases, not just the meaning of words in a phrase. And the ordinary meaning of the phrase "discriminate because of sex" does not encompass sexual orientation discrimination.

The majority opinion deflects that critique by saying that courts should base their interpretation of statutes on the text as written, not on the legislators' subjective intentions. Ante , at 1764 - 1765, 1766 - 1770. Of course that is true. No one disagrees. It is "the provisions of our laws rather than the principal concerns of our legislators by which we are governed." Oncale v. Sundowner Offshore Services, Inc. , 523 U.S. 75, 79, 118 S.Ct. 998, 140 L.Ed.2d 201 (1998).

But in my respectful view, the majority opinion makes a fundamental mistake by confusing ordinary meaning with subjective intentions. To briefly explain: In the early years after Title VII was enacted, some may have wondered whether Title VII's prohibition on sex discrimination protected male employees. After all, covering male employees may not have been the intent of some who voted for the statute. Nonetheless, discrimination on the basis of sex against women and discrimination on the basis of sex against men are both understood as discrimination because of sex (back in 1964 and now) and are therefore encompassed within Title VII. Cf. id., at 78-79, 118 S.Ct. 998 ; see Newport News Shipbuilding & Dry Dock Co. v. EEOC , 462 U.S. 669, 682-685, 103 S.Ct. 2622, 77 L.Ed.2d 89 (1983). So too, regardless of what the intentions of the drafters might *1835have been, the ordinary meaning of the law demonstrates that harassing an employee because of her sex is discriminating against the employee because of her sex with respect to the "terms, conditions, or privileges of employment," as this Court rightly concluded. Meritor Savings Bank, FSB v. Vinson , 477 U.S. 57, 64, 106 S.Ct. 2399, 91 L.Ed.2d 49 (1986) (internal quotation marks omitted).10

By contrast, this case involves sexual orientation discrimination, which has long and widely been understood as distinct from, and not a form of, sex discrimination. Until now, federal law has always reflected that common usage and recognized that distinction between sex discrimination and sexual orientation discrimination. To fire one employee because she is a woman and another employee because he is gay implicates two distinct societal concerns, reveals two distinct biases, imposes two distinct harms, and falls within two distinct statutory prohibitions.

To be sure, as Judge Lynch appropriately recognized, it is "understandable" that those seeking legal protection for gay people "search for innovative arguments to classify workplace bias against gays as a form of discrimination that is already prohibited by federal law. But the arguments advanced by the majority ignore the evident meaning of the language of Title VII, the social realities that distinguish between the kinds of biases that the statute sought to exclude from the workplace from those it did not, and the distinctive nature of anti-gay prejudice." 883 F.3d at 162 (dissenting opinion).

The majority opinion insists that it is not rewriting or updating Title VII, but instead is just humbly reading the text of the statute as written. But that assertion is tough to accept. Most everyone familiar with the use of the English language in America understands that the ordinary meaning of sexual orientation discrimination is distinct from the ordinary meaning of sex discrimination. Federal law distinguishes the two. State law distinguishes the two. This Court's cases distinguish the two. Statistics on discrimination distinguish the two. History distinguishes the two. Psychology distinguishes the two. Sociology distinguishes the two. Human resources departments all over America distinguish the two. Sports leagues distinguish the two. Political groups distinguish *1836the two. Advocacy groups distinguish the two. Common parlance distinguishes the two. Common sense distinguishes the two.

As a result, many Americans will not buy the novel interpretation unearthed and advanced by the Court today. Many will no doubt believe that the Court has unilaterally rewritten American vocabulary and American law-a "statutory amendment courtesy of unelected judges." Hively , 853 F.3d at 360 (Sykes, J., dissenting). Some will surmise that the Court succumbed to "the natural desire that beguiles judges along with other human beings into imposing their own views of goodness, truth, and justice upon others." Furman v. Georgia , 408 U.S. 238, 467, 92 S.Ct. 2726, 33 L.Ed.2d 346 (1972) (Rehnquist, J., dissenting).

I have the greatest, and unyielding, respect for my colleagues and for their good faith. But when this Court usurps the role of Congress, as it does today, the public understandably becomes confused about who the policymakers really are in our system of separated powers, and inevitably becomes cynical about the oft-repeated aspiration that judges base their decisions on law rather than on personal preference. The best way for judges to demonstrate that we are deciding cases based on the ordinary meaning of the law is to walk the walk, even in the hard cases when we might prefer a different policy outcome.

* * *

In judicially rewriting Title VII, the Court today cashiers an ongoing legislative process, at a time when a new law to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination was probably close at hand. After all, even back in 2007-a veritable lifetime ago in American attitudes about sexual orientation-the House voted 235 to 184 to prohibit sexual orientation discrimination in employment. H.R. 3685, 110th Cong., 1st Sess. In 2013, the Senate overwhelmingly approved a similar bill, 64 to 32. S. 815, 113th Cong., 1st Sess. In 2019, the House voted 236 to 173 to amend Title VII to prohibit employment discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. H.R. 5, 116th Cong., 1st Sess. It was therefore easy to envision a day, likely just in the next few years, when the House and Senate took historic votes on a bill that would prohibit employment discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. It was easy to picture a massive and celebratory Presidential signing ceremony in the East Room or on the South Lawn.

It is true that meaningful legislative action takes time-often too much time, especially in the unwieldy morass on Capitol Hill. But the Constitution does not put the Legislative Branch in the "position of a television quiz show contestant so that when a given period of time has elapsed and a problem remains unsolved by them, the federal judiciary may press a buzzer and take its turn at fashioning a solution." Rehnquist, The Notion of a Living Constitution, 54 Texas L. Rev. 693, 700 (1976). The proper role of the Judiciary in statutory interpretation cases is "to apply, not amend, the work of the People's representatives," even when the judges might think that "Congress should reenter the field and alter the judgments it made in the past." Henson , 582 U.S., at ---- - ----, 137 S.Ct., at 1725.

Instead of a hard-earned victory won through the democratic process, today's victory is brought about by judicial dictate-judges latching on to a novel form of living literalism to rewrite ordinary meaning and remake American law. Under the Constitution and laws of the United States, this Court is the wrong body to change American law in that way. The Court's ruling "comes at a great cost to representative self-government." Hively , 853 F.3d at 360 (Sykes, J., dissenting). And the implications of this Court's usurpation of *1837the legislative process will likely reverberate in unpredictable ways for years to come.

Notwithstanding my concern about the Court's transgression of the Constitution's separation of powers, it is appropriate to acknowledge the important victory achieved today by gay and lesbian Americans. Millions of gay and lesbian Americans have worked hard for many decades to achieve equal treatment in fact and in law. They have exhibited extraordinary vision, tenacity, and grit-battling often steep odds in the legislative and judicial arenas, not to mention in their daily lives. They have advanced powerful policy arguments and can take pride in today's result. Under the Constitution's separation of powers, however, I believe that it was Congress's role, not this Court's, to amend Title VII. I therefore must respectfully dissent from the Court's judgment.