Opinion by

Hirt, J.,

One indictment (Bill 230), before us in the present appeals, charged that the defendant on May 4, 1953 “devising, contriving and intending the morals and *456manners of the good citizens of this Commonwealth then and there being, to debauch and corrupt, and further devising and intending to harass, embarrass and villify divers citizens of this Commonwealth, and particularly one Louise Zivkovich and the members of the family of her the said Louise Zivkovich . . . unlawfully, wickedly and maliciously did then and there on the said days and dates aforesaid, make numerous telephone calls to the dwelling house of the said Louise Zivkovich at all times of the day and night, in which said telephone calls and conversations resulting therefrom the said Michael Mochan did wickedly and maliciously refer to the said Louise Zivkovich as a lewd, immoral and lascivious woman of an indecent and lewd character, and other scurrilous approbrious, filthy, disgusting and indecent language and talk and did then and there use in said telephone calls and conversations resulting therefrom, not only with the said Louise Zivkovich as aforesaid but with other members of the family of the said Louise Zivkovich then and there residing and then and there answering said telephone calls aforesaid intending as aforesaid to blacken the character and reputation of the said Louise Zivkovich and to infer that the said Louise Zivkovich was a woman of ill repute and ill fame, and intending as aforesaid to harass, embarrass and villify the said Louise Zivkovich and other members of her household as aforesaid, to the great damage, injury and oppression of the said Louise Zivkovich and other good citizens of this Commonwealth to the evil example of all other in like case offending, and against the peace and dignity of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.” A second indictment (Bill 231), in the same language, charged a like offense committed by defendant on another date. Defendant was tried before a judge without a jury and was convicted on both charges and was *457sentenced. He has appealed from the refusal by the court en banc of his motions in arrest of judgment, on the ground advanced by him that the conduct charged in the indictments, concededly not a criminal offense in this State by any statute, does not constitute a misdemeanor at common law. In a number of States and especially in the common law State of Pennsylvania the common law of England, as to crimes, is in force except in so far as it has been abrogated by statute. 11 Am. Jur., Common Law, §4; 22 C.J.S., Criminal Law, §19. The indictments in these cases by their language, clearly purported to charge a common law crime not included in our Penal Code or elsewhere in our statutory law.

It is established by the testimony that the defendant over a period of more than one month early in 1953, on numerous occasions and on the specific dates laid in the indictments, telephoned one Louise Zivkovich, a stranger to him and a married woman of the highest character and repute. He called as often as three times each week and at any hour of the day or night. His language on these calls was obscene, lewd and filthy. He not only suggested intercourse with her but talked of sodomy as well, in the loathsome language of that criminal act, on a number of occasions. The calls were coming in from a four-party line. Through cooperation with the telephone company, the defendant was finally located and was arrested by the police at the telephone after the completion of his last call. After his arrest bearing upon the question of his identification as the one who made the calls, Mrs. Zivkovich recognized his voice, in a telephone conversation with him which was set up by the police.

It is of little importance that there is no precedent in our reports which decides the precise question here involved. The test is not whether precedents can be *458found in the hooks but whether the alleged crimes could have been prosecuted and the offenders punished under the common law. Commonwealth v. McHale, 97 Pa. 397, 408. In Commonwealth v. Miller, 94 Pa. Superior Ct. 499, 507, the controlling principles are thus stated: “The common law is sufficiently broad to punish as a misdemeanor, although there may be no exact precedent, any act which directly injures or tends to injure the public to such an extent as to require the state to interfere and punish the wrongdoer, as in the case of acts which injuriously affect public morality, or obstruct, or pervert public justice, or the administration of government: 16 Corpus Juris, Sec. 23, page 65, citing Republica v. Teischer, 1 Dallas 335; Com. v. Sharpless, 2 S. & R. 91, and Barker v. Com., 19 Pa. 412.” Cf. Com. of Penna. v. DeGrange, 97 Pa. Superior Ct. 181, in which it is said: “ ‘Whatever openly outrages decency and is injurious to public morals is a misdemeanor at common law’: Russell on Crimes and Misdemeanors, 8th Ed., Vol. 1, p. 10; 4 Blackstone’s Commentaries 65, note.” Any act is indictable at common law which from its nature scandalously affects the morals or health of the community. 1 Wharton Criminal Law, 12 Ed., §23. Thus in Barker et al. v. Commonwealth, 19 Pa. 412, a common law conviction based upon open obscenity was affirmed. Cf. Sadler, Criminal & Penal Proc., §281. And in Commonwealth v. Glenny, 54 D. & C. 633, in a well considered opinion it was held that an indictment charging that the defendant took indecent liberties tending to debauch the morals of a male victim adequately set forth a common law offense. And as early as Updegraph v. Commonwealth, 11 S. & R. 393, it was held that Christianity is a part of the common law and maliciously to vilify the Christian religion is an indictable offense.

*459To endeavor merely to persuade a married woman to commit adultery is not indictable. Smith v. Commonwealth, 54 Pa. 209. The present defendant’s criminal intent was evidenced by a number of overt acts beyond the mere oral solicitation of adultery. The vile and disgusting suggestions of sodomy alone and the otherwise persistent lewd, immoral and filthy language used by the defendant, take these cases out of the principle of the Smith case. Moreover potentially at least, defendant’s acts injuriously affected public morality. The operator or any one on defendant’s four-party telephone line could have listened in on the conversations, and at least two other persons in Mrs. Zivkovich’s household heard some of defendant’s immoral and obscene language over the telephone.

The name “Immoral Practices and Conduct” was ascribed to the offense and was endorsed on the indictments by the District Attorney. Whether the endorsement appropriately or adequately names the offense is unimportant (Com. of Penna. v. DeGrange, supra, p. 185); the factual charges in the body of the indictments identify the offense as a common law misdemeanor and the testimony established the guilt of the defendant.

Judgments and sentences affirmed.

Dissenting Opinion by

Woodside, J.

Not unmindful of the reprehensible conduct of the appellant, I nevertheless cannot agree with the majority that what he did was a crime punishable under the laws of this Commonwealth.

The majority is declaring something to be a crime which was never before known to be a crime in this Commonwealth. They have done this by the application *460of such general principles as “it is a crime to do anything which injures or tends to injure the public to such an extent as to require the state to interfere and punish the wrongdoer';” and “whatever openly outrages decency and is injurious to public morals is a misdemeanor.”

Not only have they declared it to be a crime to do an act “injuriously affecting public morality,” but they have declared it to be a crime to do any act which has a “potentially” injurious effect on public morality.

Under the division of powers in our constitution it is for the legislature to determine what “injures or tends to injure the public.”

One of the most important functions of a legislature is to determine what acts “require the state to interfere and punish the wrongdoer.” There is no reason for the legislature to enact any criminal laws if the courts delegate to themselves the power to apply such general principles as are here applied to whatever conduct may seem to the courts to be injurious to the public.

There is no doubt that the common law is a part of the law of this Commonwealth, and we punish many acts under the common law. But after nearly two hundred years of constitutional government in which the legislature and not the courts have been charged by the people with the responsibility of deciding which acts do and which do not injure the public to the extent which requires punishment, it seems to me we are making an unwarranted invasion of the legislative field when we arrogate that responsibility to ourselves by declaring now, for the first time, that certain acts are a crime.

When the legislature invades either the judicial or the executive fields, or the executive invades either the judicial or legislative fields, the courts stand ready to *461stop them. But in matters of this type there is nothing to prevent our invasion of the legislative field except our own self restraint. There are many examples of how carefully the courts, with admirable self restraint, have fenced themselves in so they would not romp through the fields of the other branches of government. This case is not such an example.

Until the legislature says that what the defendant did is a crime, I think the courts should not declare it to be such.

I would therefore reverse the lower court and discharge the appellant.

Gunther, J. joins in this dissent.

Mr. Justice Holmes

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The petitioner was convicted of transporting from Ottawa, Illinois, to Guymon, Oklahoma, an airplane that he knew to have been stolen, and was sentenced to serve three years’ imprisonment and to pay a fine of $2,000. The judgment was affirmed by the Circuit Court of Appeals for the Tenth Circuit. 43 F. (2d) 273. A writ of certiorari was granted by this Court on the question whether the National Motor Vehicle Theft Act applies to aircraft. *26Act of October 29, 1919, c. 89, 41 Stat. 324; U. S. Code. Title 18, § 408. That Act provides: “ Sec. 2. That when used in this Act: (a) The term ‘motor vehicle’ shall include an automobile, automobile truck, automobile wagon, motor cycle, or any other self-propelled vehicle not designed for .running on rails; . . . Sec. 3. That whoever shall transport or cause to be transported in interstate or foreign commerce a motor vehicle, knowing the same to have been stolen, shall be punished by a fine of not more than $5,000, or by imprisonment of not more than five years, or both.”

Section 2 defines the motor vehicles of which the transportation in interstate commerce is punished in § 3. The question is the meaning of the word ‘ vehicle ’ in the phrase “ any other self-propelled vehicle not designed for running on rails.” No doubt etymologically it is possible to use the word to signify a conveyance working on land, water or air, and sometimes legislation extends the use in that direction, e. g., land and air, water being separately provided for, in the Tariff Act, September 22, 1922, c. 356, § 401 (b), 42 Stat. 858, 948. But in everyday speech ‘ vehicle ’ calls up the picture of a thing moving on land. Thus in Rev. Stats. § 4, intended, the Government suggests, rather to enlarge than to restrict the definition, vehicle includes every contrivance capable of being used “ as a means of transportation on land.” And this is repeated, expressly excluding aircraft, in the Tariff Act, June 17, 1930, c. 997, § 401 (b); 46 Stat. 590, 708. So here, the phrase under discussion calls up the popular picture. For after including automobile truck, automobile wagon and motor cycle, the words “ any other self-propelled vehicle not designed for running on rails ” still indicate that a vehicle in the popular sense, that is a vehicle running on land, is the theme. It is a vehicle that runs, not something, not commonly called a vehicle, that flies. Airplanes were well known in 1919, when this statute was passed; but it is admitted that they were not mentioned in the reports or in the debates in Congress. *27It is impossible to read words that so carefully enumerate the different forms of motor vehicles and have no reference of any kind to aircraft, as including airplanes under a term that usage more and more precisely confines to a different class. The counsel for the petitioner have shown that the phraseology of the statute as to motor vehicles follows that of earlier statutes of Connecticut, Delaware, Ohio, Michigan and Missouri, not to .mention the late Regulations of Traffic for the District of Columbia, Title 6, c. 9, § 242, hone of which can be supposed to leave the earth.

Although it is not likely that a criminal will carefully consider the text of the law before he murders or steals, it is reasonable that a fair warning should be given to the world in language that the common world will understand, of what the law intends to do if a certain line is passed. To make the warning fair, so far as possible the line should be clear. When a rule of conduct is laid down in words that evoke in the common mind only the picture of vehicles moving on land, the statute should not be extended to aircraft, simply because it may seem to us that a similar policy applies, or upon the speculation that, if the legislature had thought of it, very likely broader words would have been used. United States v. Third, 261 U. S. 204, 209.

Judgment reversed.

*45Justice Stevens

announced the judgment of the Court and delivered the opinion of the Court with respect to Parts I, II, and V, and an opinion with respect to Parts III, IV, and VI, in which Justice Souter and Justice Ginsburg join.

In 1992, the Chicago City Council enacted the Gang Congregation Ordinance, which prohibits “criminal street gang *46members” from “loitering” with one another or with other persons in any public place. The question presented is whether the Supreme Court of Illinois correctly held that the ordinance violates the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to the Federal Constitution.

I

Before the ordinance was adopted, the city council’s Committee on Police and Fire conducted hearings to explore the problems created by the city’s street gangs, and more particularly, the consequences of public loitering by gang members. Witnesses included residents of the neighborhoods where gang members are most active, as well as some of the aldermen who represent those areas. Based on that evidence, the council made a series of findings that are included in the text of the ordinance and explain the reasons for its enactment.1

The council found that a continuing increase in criminal street gang activity was largely responsible for the city’s rising murder rate, as well as an escalation of violent and drug related crimes. It noted that in many neighborhoods throughout the city, “‘the burgeoning presence of street gang members in public places has intimidated many law abiding citizens.’ ” 177 Ill. 2d 440, 445, 687 N. E. 2d 53, 58 (1997). Furthermore, the council stated that gang members “‘establish control over identifiable areas ... by loitering in those areas and intimidating others from entering those areas; and . . . [m]embers of criminal street gangs avoid arrest by committing no offense punishable under existing laws when they know the police are present ....’” Ibid. It further found that “ ‘loitering in public places by *47criminal street gang members creates a justifiable fear for the safety of persons and property in the area’” and that “ ‘[a]ggressive action is necessary to preserve the city’s streets and other public places so that the public may use such places without fear.’ ” Moreover, the council concluded that the city “‘has an interest in discouraging all persons from loitering in public places with criminal gang members.’” Ibid.

The ordinance creates a criminal offense punishable by a fine of up to $500, imprisonment for not more than six months, and a requirement to perform up to 120 hours of community service. Commission of the offense involves four predicates. First, the police officer must reasonably believe that at least one of the two or more persons present in a “‘public place’” is a ‘“criminal street gang membe[r].’” Second, the persons must be “‘loitering,’” which the ordinance defines as “ ‘remaining] in any one place with no apparent purpose.’” Third, the officer must then order “‘all’” of the persons to disperse and remove themselves “‘from the area.’” Fourth, a person must disobey the officer’s order. If any person, whether a gang member or not, disobeys the officer’s order, that person is guilty of violating the ordinance. Ibid.2

*48Two months after the ordinance was adopted, the Chicago Police Department promulgated General Order 92-4 to provide guidelines to govern its enforcement.3 That order purported to establish limitations on the enforcement discretion of police officers “to ensure that the anti-gang loitering ordinance is not enforced in an arbitrary or discriminatory way.” Chicago Police Department, General Order 92-4, reprinted in App. to Pet. for Cert. 65a. The limitations confine the authority to arrest gang members who violate the ordinance to sworn “members of the Gang Crime Section” and certain other designated officers,4 and establish detailed criteria for defining street gangs and membership in such gangs. Id., at 66a-67a. In addition, the order directs district commanders to “designate areas in which the presence of gang members has a demonstrable effect on the activities of law abiding persons in the surrounding community,” and provides that the ordinance “will be enforced only within the desig*49nated areas.” Id., at 68a-69a. The city, however, does not release the locations of these “designated areas” to the public.5

II

During the three years of its enforcement,6 the police issued over 89,000 dispersal orders and arrested over 42,000 people for violating the ordinance.7 In the ensuing enforcement proceedings, 2 trial judges upheld the constitutionality of the ordinance, but 11 others ruled that it was invalid.8 In respondent Youkhana’s case, the trial judge held that the “ordinance fails to notify individuals what conduct *50is prohibited, and it encourages arbitrary and capricious enforcement by police.”9

The Illinois Appellate Court affirmed the trial court’s ruling in the Youkhana case,10 consolidated and affirmed other pending appeals in accordance with Youkhana,11 and reversed the convictions of respondents Gutierrez, Morales, and others.12 The Appellate Court was persuaded that the ordinance impaired the freedom of assembly of nongang members in violation of the First Amendment to the Federal Constitution and Article I of the Illinois Constitution, that it was unconstitutionally vague, that it improperly criminalized status rather than conduct, and that it jeopardized rights guaranteed under the Fourth Amendment.13

The Illinois Supreme Court affirmed. It held “that the gang loitering ordinance violates due process of law in that it is impermissibly vague on its face and an arbitrary restriction on personal liberties.” 177 Ill. 2d, at 447, 687 N. E. 2d, at 59. The court did not reach the contentions that the ordinance “creates a status offense, permits arrests without probable cause or is overbroad.” Ibid.

In support of its vagueness holding, the court pointed out that the definition of “loitering” in the ordinance drew no distinction between innocent conduct and conduct calculated *51to cause harm.14 “Moreover, the definition of ‘loiter’ provided by the ordinance does not assist in clearly articulating the proscriptions of the ordinance.” Id., at 451-452, 687 N. E. 2d, at 60-61. Furthermore, it concluded that the ordinance was “not reasonably susceptible to a limiting construction which would affirm its validity.”15

We granted certiorari, 523 U. S. 1071 (1998), and now affirm. Like the Illinois Supreme Court, we conclude that the ordinance enacted by the city of Chicago is unconstitutionally vague.

Ill

The basic factual predicate for the city’s ordinance is not in dispute. As the city argues in its brief, “the very presence of a large collection of obviously brazen, insistent, and lawless gang members and hangers-on on the public ways intimidates residents, who become afraid even to leave their homes and go about their business. That, in turn, imperils community residents’ sense of safety and security, detracts from property values, and can ultimately destabilize entire neighborhoods.”16 The findings in the ordinance explain that it was motivated by these concerns. We have no doubt *52that a law that directly prohibited such intimidating conduct would be constitutional,17 but this ordinance broadly covers a significant amount of additional activity. Uncertainty about the scope of that additional coverage provides the basis for respondents’ claim that the ordinance is too vague.

We are confronted at the outset with the city’s claim that it was improper for the state courts to conclude that the ordinance is invalid on its face. The city correctly points out that imprecise laws can be attacked on their face under two different doctrines.18 First, the overbreadth doctrine permits the facial invalidation of laws that inhibit the exercise of First Amendment rights if the impermissible applications of the law are substantial when “judged in relation to the statute’s plainly legitimate sweep.” Broadrick v. Oklahoma, 413 U. S. 601, 612-615 (1973). Second, even if an enactment does not reach a substantial amount of constitutionally protected conduct, it may be impermissibly vague because it fails to establish standards for the police and public that are sufficient to guard against the arbitrary deprivation of liberty interests. Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S. 352, 358 (1983).

While we, like the Illinois courts, conclude that the ordinance is invalid on its face, we do not rely on the overbreadth doctrine. We agree with the city’s submission that the law does not have a sufficiently substantial impact on conduct *53protected by the First Amendment to render it unconstitutional. The ordinance does not prohibit speech. Because the term “loiter” is defined as remaining in one place “with no apparent purpose,” it is also clear that it does not prohibit any form of conduct that is apparently intended to convey a message. By its terms, the ordinance is inapplicable to assemblies that are designed to demonstrate a group’s support of, or opposition to, a particular point of view. Cf. Clark v. Community for Creative Non-Violence, 468 U. S. 288 (1984); Gregory v. Chicago, 394 U. S. 111 (1969). Its impact on the social contact between gang members and others does not impair the First Amendment “right of association” that our cases have recognized. See Dallas v. Stanglin, 490 U. S. 19, 23-25 (1989).

On the other hand, as the United States recognizes, the freedom to loiter for innocent purposes is part of the “liberty” protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.19 We have expressly identified this “right to remove from one place to another according to inclination” as “an attribute of personal liberty” protected by the Constitution. Williams v. Fears, 179 U. S. 270, 274 (1900); see also Papachristou v. Jacksonville, 405 U. S. 156, 164 (1972).20 *54Indeed, it is apparent that an individual’s decision to remain in a public place of his choice is as much a part of his liberty as the freedom of movement inside frontiers that is “a part of our heritage” Kent v. Dulles, 357 U. S. 116, 126 (1958), or the right to move “to whatsoever place one’s own inclination may direct” identified in Blaekstone’s Commentaries. 1 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England 130 (1765).21

*55There is no need, however, to decide whether the impact of the Chicago ordinance on constitutionally protected liberty alone would suffice to support a facial challenge under the overbreadth doctrine. Cf. Aptheker v. Secretary of State, 378 U. S. 500, 515-517 (1964) (right to travel); Planned Parenthood of Central Mo. v. Danforth, 428 U. S. 52, 82-83 (1976) (abortion); Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S., at 355, n. 3, 358-360, and n. 9. For it is clear that the vagueness of this enactment makes a facial challenge appropriate. This is not an ordinance that “simply regulates business behavior and contains a scienter requirement.” See Hoffman Estates v. Flipside, Hoffman Estates, Inc., 455 U. S. 489, 499 (1982). It is a criminal law that contains no mens rea requirement, see Colautti v. Franklin, 439 U. S. 379, 395 (1979), and infringes on constitutionally protected rights, see id., at 391. When vagueness permeates the text of such a law, it is subject to facial attack.22

*56Vagueness may invalidate a criminal law for either of two independent reasons. First, it may fail to provide the kind of notice that will enable ordinary people to understand what conduct it prohibits; second, it may authorize and even encourage arbitrary and discriminatory enforcement. See Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S., at 357. Accordingly, we first consider whether the ordinance provides fair notice to the citizen and then discuss its potential for arbitrary enforcement.

IV

“It is established that a law fails to meet the requirements of the Due Process Clause if it is so vague and standardless that it leaves the public uncertain as to the conduct it prohibits .. . .” Giaccio v. Pennsylvania, 382 U. S. 399, 402-403 (1966). The Illinois Supreme Court recognized that the term “loiter” may have a common and accepted meaning, 177 Ill. 2d, at 451, 687 N. E. 2d, at 61, but the definition of that term in this ordinance — “to remain in any one place with no apparent purpose” — does not. It is difficult to imagine how *57any citizen of the city of Chicago standing in a public place with a group of people would know if he or she had an “apparent purpose.” If she were talking to another person, would she have an apparent purpose? If she were frequently checking her watch and looking expectantly down the street, would she have an apparent purpose?23

Since the city cannot conceivably have meant to criminalize each instance a citizen stands in public with a gang member, the vagueness that dooms this ordinance is not the product of uncertainty about the normal meaning of “loitering,” but rather about what loitering is covered by the ordinance and what is not. The Illinois Supreme Court emphasized the law’s failure to distinguish between innocent conduct and conduct threatening harm.24 Its decision followed the precedent set by a number of state courts that have upheld ordinances that criminalize loitering combined with some other overt act or evidence of criminal intent.25 However, state *58courts have uniformly invalidated laws that do not join the term “loitering” with a second specific element of the crime.26

The city’s principal response to this concern about adequate notice is that loiterers are not subject to sanction until after they have failed to comply with an officer’s order to disperse. “[Wjhatever problem is created by a law that criminalizes conduct people normally believe to be innocent is solved when persons receive actual notice from a police order of what they are expected to do.”27 We find this response unpersuasive for at least two reasons.

First, the purpose of the fair notice requirement is to enable the ordinary citizen to conform his or her conduct to the law. “No one may be required at peril of life, liberty or property to speculate as to the meaning of penal statutes.” Lanzetta v. New Jersey, 306 U. S. 451, 453 (1939). Although it is true that a loiterer is not subject to criminal sanctions unless he or she disobeys a dispersal order, the loitering is the conduct that the ordinance is designed to prohibit.28 If the loitering is in fact harmless and innocent, the dispersal order itself is an unjustified impairment of liberty. If the police are able to decide arbitrarily which members of the public they will order to disperse, then the Chicago ordinance becomes indistinguishable from the law we held invalid in Shuttlesworth v. Birmingham, 382 U. S. 87, 90 *59(1965).29 Because an officer may issue an order only after prohibited conduct has already occurred, it cannot provide the kind of advance notice that will protect the putative loiterer from being ordered to disperse. Such an order cannot retroactively give adequate warning of the boundary between the permissible and the impermissible applications of the law.30

Second, the terms of the dispersal order compound the inadequacy of the notice afforded by the ordinance. It provides that the officer “shall order all such persons to disperse and remove themselves from the area.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 61a. This vague phrasing raises a host of questions. After such an order issues, how long must the loiterers remain apart? How far must they move? If each loiterer walks around the block and they meet again at the same location, are they subject to arrest or merely to being ordered to disperse again? As we do here, we have found vagueness in a criminal statute exacerbated by the use of the standards of “neighborhood” and “locality.” Connally v. General Constr. Co., 269 U. S. 385 (1926). We remarked in Connolly that “[b]oth terms are elastic and, dependent upon circumstances, may be equally satisfied by areas measured by rods or by miles.” Id., at 395.

Lack of clarity in the description of the loiterer's duty to obey a dispersal order might not render the ordinance uncon*60stitutionally vague if the definition of the forbidden conduct were clear, but it does buttress our conclusion that the entire ordinance fails to give the ordinary citizen adequate notiee of what is forbidden and what is permitted. The Constitution does not permit a legislature to “set a net large enough to catch all possible offenders, and leave it to the courts to step inside and say who could be rightfully detained, and who should be set at large.” United States v. Reese, 92 U. S. 214, 221 (1876). This ordinance is therefore vague “not in the sense that it requires a person to conform his conduct to an imprecise but comprehensible normative standard, but rather in the sense that no standard of conduct is specified at all.” Coates v. Cincinnati, 402 U. S. 611, 614 (1971).

V

The broad sweep of the ordinance also violates “ The requirement that a legislature establish minimal guidelines to govern law enforcement.’ ” Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S., at 358. There are no such guidelines in the ordinance. In any public place in the city of Chicago, persons who stand or sit in the company of a gang member may be ordered to disperse unless their purpose is apparent. The mandatory language in the enactment directs the police to issue an order without first making any inquiry about their possible purposes. It matters not whether the reason that a gang member and his father, for example, might loiter near Wrigley Field is to rob an unsuspecting fan or just to get a glimpse of Sammy Sosa leaving the ballpark; in either event, if their purpose is not apparent to a nearby police officer, she may— indeed, she “shall” — order them to disperse.

Recognizing that the ordinance does reach a substantial amount of innocent conduct, we turn, then, to its language to determine if it “necessarily entrusts lawmaking to the moment-to-moment judgment of the policeman on his beat.” Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S., at 360 (internal quotation marks omitted). As we discussed in the context of fair no*61tice, see supra, at 56-60, the principal source of the vast discretion conferred on the police in this ease is the definition of loitering as “to remain in any one place with no apparent purpose.”

As the Illinois Supreme Court interprets that definition, it “provides absolute discretion to police officers to decide what activities constitute loitering.” 177 Ill. 2d, at 457, 687 N. E. 2d, at 63. We have no authority to construe the language of a state statute more narrowly than the construction given by that State’s highest court.31 “The power to determine the meaning of a statute carries with it the power to prescribe its extent and limitations as well as the method by which they shall be determined.” Smiley v. Kansas, 196 U. S. 447, 455 (1905).

Nevertheless, the city disputes the Illinois Supreme Court’s interpretation, arguing that the text of the ordinance limits the officer’s discretion in three ways. First, it does not permit the officer to issue a dispersal order to anyone who is moving along or who has an apparent purpose. Second, it does not permit an arrest if individuals obey a dispersal order. Third, no order can issue unless the officer reasonably believes that one of the loiterers is a member of a criminal street gang.

Even putting to one side our duty to defer to a state court’s construction of the scope of a local enactment, we find each of these limitations insufficient. That the ordinance does not apply to people who are moving — that is, to activity that would not constitute loitering under any possible definition of the term — does not even address the question of how much discretion the police enjoy in deciding which stationary per*62sons to disperse under the ordinance.32 Similarly, that the ordinance does not permit an arrest until after a dispersal order has been disobeyed does not provide any guidance to the officer deciding whether sueh an order should issue. The “no apparent purpose” standard for making that decision is inherently subjective because its application depends on whether some purpose is “apparent” to the officer on the scene.

Presumably an officer would have discretion to treat some purposes — perhaps a purpose to engage in idle conversation or simply to enjoy a cool breeze on a warm evening — as too frivolous to be apparent if he suspected a different ulterior motive. Moreover, an officer conscious of the city council’s reasons for enacting the ordinance might well ignore its text and issue a dispersal order, even though an illicit purpose is actually apparent.

It is true, as the city argues, that the requirement that the officer reasonably believe that a group of loiterers contains a gang member does place a limit on the authority to order dispersal. That limitation would no doubt be sufficient if the ordinance only applied to loitering that had an apparently harmful purpose or effect,33 or possibly if it only applied to loitering by persons reasonably believed to be criminal gang members. But this ordinance, for reasons that are not explained in the findings of the city council, requires no harmful purpose and applies to nongang members as well as suspected gang members.34 It applies to everyone in the city *63who may remain in one place with one suspected gang member as long as their purpose is not apparent to an officer observing them. Friends, relatives, teachers, counselors, or even total strangers might unwittingly engage in forbidden loitering if they happen to engage in idle conversation with a gang member.

Ironically, the definition of loitering in the Chicago ordinance not only extends its scope to encompass harmless conduct, but also has the perverse consequence of excluding from its coverage much of the intimidating conduct that motivated its enactment. As the city council’s findings demonstrate, the most harmful gang loitering is motivated either by an apparent purpose to publicize the gang’s dominance of certain territory, thereby intimidating nonmembers, or by an equally apparent purpose to conceal ongoing commerce in illegal drugs. As the Illinois Supreme Court has not placed any limiting construction on the language in the ordinance, we must assume that the ordinance means what it says and that it has no application to loiterers whose purpose is apparent. The relative importance of its application to harmless loitering is magnified by its inapplicability to loitering that has an obviously threatening or illicit purpose.

Finally, in its opinion striking down the ordinance, the Illinois Supreme Court refused to accept the general order issued by the police department as a sufficient limitation on the “vast amount of discretion” granted to the police in its enforcement. We agree. See Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S. 566, 575 (1974). That the police have adopted internal rules limiting their enforcement to certain designated areas in the city would not provide a defense to a loiterer who might be arrested elsewhere. Nor could a person who knowingly loitered with a well-known gang member anywhere in the city *64safely assume that they would not be ordered to disperse no matter how innocent and harmless their loitering might be.

IV

In our judgment, the Illinois Supreme Court correctly concluded that the ordinance does not provide sufficiently specific limits on the enforcement discretion of the police “to meet constitutional standards for definiteness and clarity.”35 177 Ill. 2d, at 459, 687 N. E. 2d, at 64. We recognize the serious and difficult problems testified to by the citizens of Chicago that led to the enactment of this ordinance. “We are mindful that the preservation of liberty depends in part on the maintenance of social order.” Houston v. Hill, 482 U. S. 451, 471-472 (1987). However, in this instance the city has enacted an ordinance that affords too much discretion to the police and too little notice to citizens who wish to use the public streets.

Accordingly, the judgment of the Supreme Court of Illinois is

Affirmed.

Justice O’Connor,

with whom Justice Breyer joins, concurring in part and concurring in the judgment.

I agree with the Court that Chicago’s Gang Congregation Ordinance, Chicago Municipal Code §8-4-015 (1992) (gang loitering ordinance or ordinance) is unconstitutionally vague. A penal law is void for vagueness if it fails to “define the criminal offense with sufficient definiteness that ordinary people can understand what conduct is prohibited” or fails to *65establish guidelines to prevent “arbitrary and discriminatory enforcement” of the law. Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S. 352, 357 (1983). Of these, “the more important aspect of the vagueness doctrine ‘is ... the requirement that a legislature establish minimal guidelines to govern law enforcement.’” Id., at 358 (quoting Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S. 566, 574-575 (1974)). I share Justice Thomas’ concern about the consequences of gang violence, and I agree that some degree of police discretion is necessary to allow the police “to perform their peacekeeping responsibilities satisfactorily.” Post, at 109 (dissenting opinion). A criminal law, however, must not permit policemen, prosecutors, and juries to conduct “‘a standardless sweep ... to pursue their personal predilections.’ ” Kolender v. Lawson, supra, at 358 (quoting Smith v. Goguen, supra, at 575).

The ordinance at issue provides:

“Whenever a police officer observes a person whom he reasonably believes to be a criminal street gang member loitering in any public place with one or more other persons, he shall order all such persons to disperse and remove themselves from the area. Any person who does not promptly obey such an order is in violation of this section.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 61a.

To “[ljoiter,” in turn, is defined in the ordinance as “to remain in any one place with no apparent purpose.” Ibid. The Illinois Supreme Court declined to adopt a limiting construction of the ordinance and concluded that the ordinance vested “absolute discretion to poliee officers.” 177 Ill. 2d 440, 457, 687 N. E. 2d 53, 63 (1997) (emphasis added). This Court is bound by the Illinois Supreme Court’s construction of the ordinance. See Terminiello v. Chicago, 337 U. S. 1, 4 (1949).

As it has been construed by the Illinois court, Chicago’s gang loitering ordinance is unconstitutionally vague because it lacks sufficient minimal standards to guide law enforce*66ment officers. In particular, it fails to provide police with any standard by which they can judge whether an individual has an “apparent purpose.” Indeed, because any person standing on the street has a general “purpose” — even if it is simply to stand — the ordinance permits police officers to choose which purposes are permissible. Under this construction the police do not have to decide that an individual is “threaten[ing] the public peace” to issue a dispersal order. See post, at 107 (Thomas, J., dissenting). Any police officer in Chicago is free, under the Illinois Supreme Court’s construction of the ordinance, to order at his whim any person standing in a public place with a suspected gang member to disperse. Further, as construed by the Illinois court, the ordinance applies to hundreds of thousands of persons who are not gang members, standing on any sidewalk or in any park, coffee shop, bar, or “other location open to the public, whether publicly or privately owned.” Chicago Municipal Code § 8-4-015(e)(5) (1992).

To be sure, there is no violation of the ordinance unless a person fails to obey promptly the order to disperse. But, a police officer cannot issue a dispersal order until he decides that a person is remaining in one place “with no apparent purpose,” and the ordinance provides no guidance to the officer on how to make this antecedent decision. Moreover, the requirement that police issue dispersal orders only when they “reasonably believ[e]” that a group of loiterers includes a gang member fails to cure the ordinance’s vague aspects. If the ordinance applied only to persons reasonably believed to be gang members, this requirement might have cured the ordinance’s vagueness because it would have directed the manner in which the order was issued by specifying to whom the order could be issued. Cf. ante, at 62. But, the Illinois Supreme Court did not construe the ordinance to be so limited. See 177 Ill. 2d, at 453-454, 687 N. E. 2d, at 62.

This vagueness consideration alone provides a sufficient ground for affirming the Illinois court’s decision, and I agree *67with Part V of the Court’s opinion, which discusses this consideration. See ante, at 62 (“[T]hat the ordinance does not permit an arrest until after a dispersal order has been disobeyed does not provide any guidance to the officer deciding whether such an order should issue”); ibid. (“It is true . . . that the requirement that the officer reasonably believe that a group of loiterers contains a gang member does place a limit on the authority to order dispersal. That limitation would no doubt be sufficient if the ordinance only applied to loitering that had an apparently harmful purpose or effect, or possibly if it only applied to loitering by persons reasonably believed to be criminal gang members”). Accordingly, there is no need to consider the other issues briefed by the parties and addressed by the plurality. I express no opinion about them.

It is important to courts and legislatures alike that we characterize more clearly the narrow scope of today’s holding. As the ordinance comes to this Court, it is unconstitutionally vague. Nevertheless, there remain open to Chicago reasonable alternatives to combat the very real threat posed by gang intimidation and violence. For example, the Court properly and expressly distinguishes the ordinance from laws that require loiterers to have a “harmful purpose,” see ibid., from laws that target only gang members, see ibid., and from laws that incorporate limits on the area and manner in which the laws may be enforced, see ante, at 62-63. In addition, the ordinance here is unlike a law that “directly prohibit[s]” the “ ‘presence of a large collection of obviously brazen, insistent, and lawless gang members and hangers-on on the public ways,’” that “‘intimidates residents.’” Ante, at 51, 52 (quoting Brief for Petitioner 14). Indeed, as the plurality notes, the city of Chicago has several laws that do exactly this. See ante, at 52, n. 17. Chicago has even enacted a provision that “enables police officers to fulfill... their traditional functions,” including “preserving the public peace.” See post, at 106 (Thomas, J., dissenting). Speeifi-*68cally, Chicago’s general disorderly conduct provision allows the police to arrest those who knowingly “provoke, make or aid in making a breach of peace.” See Chicago Municipal Code §8-4-010 (1992).

In my view, the gang loitering ordinance could have been construed more narrowly. The term “loiter” might possibly be construed in a more limited fashion to mean “to remain in any one place with no apparent purpose other than to establish control over identifiable areas, to intimidate others from entering those areas, or to conceal illegal activities.” Such a definition would be consistent with the Chicago City Council’s findings and would avoid the vagueness problems of the ordinance as construed by the Illinois Supreme Court. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 60a-61a. As noted above, so would limitations that restricted the ordinance’s criminal penalties to gang members or that more carefully delineated the circumstances in which those penalties would apply to nongang members.

The Illinois Supreme Court did not choose to give a limiting construction to Chicago’s ordinance. To the extent it relied on our precedents, particularly Papachristou v. Jacksonville, 405 U. S. 156 (1972), as requiring it to hold the ordinance vague in all of its applications because it was intentionally drafted in a vague manner, the Illinois court misapplied our precedents. See 177 Ill. 2d, at 458-459, 687 N. E. 2d, at 64. This Court has never held that the intent of the drafters determines whether a law is vague. Nevertheless, we cannot impose a limiting construction that a state supreme court has declined to adopt. See Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S., at 355-356, n. 4 (noting that the Court has held that “‘[flor the purpose of determining whether a state statute is too vague and indefinite to constitute valid legislation we must take the statute as though it read precisely as the highest court of the State has interpreted it’ ” (citations and internal quotation marks omitted)); New York *69v. Ferber, 458 U. S. 747, 769, n. 24 (1982) (noting that where the Court is “dealing with a state statute on direct review of a state-court decision that has construed the statutef,] [s]uch a construction is binding on us”). Accordingly, I join Parts I, II, and V of the Court’s opinion and concur in the judgment.

Justice Kennedy,

concurring in part and concurring in the judgment.

I join Parts I, II, and V of the Court’s opinion and concur in the judgment.

I also share many of the concerns Justice Stevens expresses in Part IV with respect to the sufficiency of notice under the ordinance. As interpreted by the Illinois Supreme Court, the Chicago ordinance would reach a broad range of innocent conduct. For this reason it is not necessarily saved by the requirement that the citizen must disobey a police order to disperse before there is a violation.

We have not often examined these types of orders. Cf. Shuttlesworth v. Birmingham, 382 U. S. 87 (1965). It can be assumed, however, that some police commands will subject a citizen to prosecution for disobeying whether or not the citizen knows why the order is given. Illustrative examples include when the police tell a pedestrian not to enter a building and the reason is to avoid impeding a rescue team, or to protect a crime scene, or to secure an area for the protection of a public official. It does not follow, however, that any unexplained police order must be obeyed without notice of the lawfulness of the order. The predicate of an order to disperse is not, in my view, sufficient to eliminate doubts regarding the adequacy of notice under this ordinance. A citizen, while engaging in a wide array of innocent conduct, is not likely to know when he may be subject to a dispersal order based on the officer’s own knowledge of the identity or affiliations of other persons with whom the citizen is con*70gregating; nor may the citizen be able to assess what an officer might conceive to be the citizen’s lack of an apparent purpose.

Justice Breyer,

concurring in part and concurring in the judgment.

The ordinance before us creates more than a “minor limitation upon the free state of nature.” Post, at 74 (Scalia, J., dissenting) (emphasis added). The law authorizes a police officer to order any person to remove himself from any “location open to the public, whether publicly or privately owned,” Chicago Municipal Code § 8-4-015(c)(5) (1992), i. e., any sidewalk, front stoop, public park, public square, lakeside promenade, hotel, restaurant, bowling alley, bar, barbershop, sports arena, shopping mall, etc., but with two, and only two, limitations: First, that person must be accompanied by (or must himself be) someone police reasonably believe is a gang member. Second, that person must have remained in that public place “with no apparent purpose.” § 8-4-015(c)(l).

The first limitation cannot save the ordinance. Though it limits the number of persons subject to the law, it leaves many individuals, gang members and nongang members alike, subject to its strictures. Nor does it limit in any way the range of conduct that police may prohibit. The second limitation is, as the Court, ante, at 62, and Justice O’Connor, ante, at 65-66 (opinion concurring in part and concurring in judgment), point out, not a limitation at all. Since one always has some apparent purpose, the so-called limitation invites, in fact requires, the policeman to interpret the words “no apparent purpose” as meaning “no apparent purpose except for....” And it is in the ordinance’s delegation to the policeman of open-ended discretion to fill in that blank that the problem lies. To grant to a policeman virtually standardless discretion to close off major portions of the city to an innocent person is, in my view, to create a major, not a “minor,” “limitation upon the free state of nature.”

*71Nor does it violate “our rules governing facial challenges,” post, at 74 (Scalia, J., dissenting), to forbid the city to apply the unconstitutional ordinance in this case. The reason why the ordinance is invalid explains how that is so. As I have said, I believe the ordinance violates the Constitution because it delegates too much discretion to a police officer to decide whom to order to move on, and in what circumstances. And I see no way to distinguish in the ordinance’s terms between one application of that discretion and another. The ordinance is unconstitutional, not because a policeman applied this discretion wisely or poorly in a particular case, but rather because the policeman enjoys too much discretion in every case. And if every application of the ordinance represents an exercise of unlimited discretion, then the ordinance is invalid in all its applications. The city of Chicago may be able validly to apply some other law to the defendants in light of their conduct. But the city of Chicago may no more apply this law to the defendants, no matter how they behaved, than it could apply an (imaginary) statute that said, “It is a crime to do wrong,” even to the worst of murderers. See Lanzetta v. New Jersey, 306 U. S. 451, 453 (1939) (“If on its face the challenged provision is repugnant to the due process clause, specification of details of the offense intended to be charged would not serve to validate it”).

Justice Scalia’s examples, post, at 81-83, reach a different conclusion because they assume a different basis for the law’s constitutional invalidity. A statute, for example, might not provide fair warning to many, but an individual defendant might still have been aware that it prohibited the conduct in which he engaged. Cf., e. g., Parker v. Levy, 417 U. S. 733, 756 (1974) (“[0]ne who has received fair warning of the criminality of his own conduct from the statute in question is [not] entitled to attack it because the language would not give similar fair warning with respect to other conduct which might be within its broad and literal ambit. *72One to whose conduct a statute clearly applies may not successfully challenge it for vagueness”). But I believe this ordinance is unconstitutional, not because it provides insufficient notice, but because it does not provide “sufficient minimal standards to guide law enforcement officers.” See ante, at 65-66 (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment).

I concede that this case is unlike those First Amendment “overbreadth” cases in which this Court has permitted a facial challenge. In an overbreadth ease, a defendant whose conduct clearly falls within the law and may be constitutionally prohibited can nonetheless have the law declared facially invalid to protect the rights of others (whose protected speech might otherwise be chilled). In the present case, the right that the defendants assert, the right to be free from the officer’s exercise of unchecked discretion, is more clearly their own.

This case resembles Coates v. Cincinnati, 402 U. S. 611 (1971), where this Court declared facially unconstitutional on, among other grounds, the due process standard of vagueness an ordinance that prohibited persons assembled on a sidewalk from “conduct[ing] themselves in a manner annoying to persons passing by.” The Court explained:

“It is said that the ordinance is broad enough to encompass many types of conduct clearly within the city’s constitutional power to prohibit. And so, indeed, it is. The city is free to prevent people from blocking sidewalks, obstructing traffic, littering streets, committing assaults, or engaging in countless other forms of antisocial conduct. It can do so through the enactment and enforcement of ordinances directed with reasonable specificity toward the conduct to be prohibited. ... It cannot constitutionally do so through the enactment and enforcement of an ordinance whose violation may entirely depend upon whether or not a policeman is annoyed.” Id., at 614 (citation omitted).

*73The ordinance in Coates could not constitutionally be applied whether or not the conduct of the particular defendants was indisputably “annoying” or of a sort that a different, more specific ordinance could constitutionally prohibit. Similarly, here the city might have enacted a different ordinance, or the Illinois Supreme Court might have interpreted this ordinance differently. And the Constitution might well have permitted the city to apply that different ordinance (or this ordinance as interpreted differently) to circumstances like those present here. See ante, at 67-68 (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). But this ordinance, as I have said, cannot be constitutionally applied to anyone.

Justice Scalia,

dissenting.

The citizens of Chicago were once free to drive about the city at whatever speed they wished. At some point Chica-goans (or perhaps Illinoisans) decided this would not do, and imposed prophylactic speed limits designed to assure safe operation by the average (or perhaps even subaverage) driver with the average (or perhaps even subaverage) vehicle. This infringed upon the “freedom” of all citizens, but was not unconstitutional.

Similarly, the citizens of Chicago were once free to stand around and gawk at the scene of an accident. At some point Chicagoans discovered that this obstructed traffic and caused more accidents. They did not make the practice unlawful, but they did authorize police officers to order the crowd to disperse, and imposed penalties for refusal to obey such an order. Again, this prophylactic measure infringed upon the “freedom” of all citizens, but was not unconstitutional.

Until the ordinance that is before us today was adopted, the citizens of Ghicago were free to stand about in public places with no apparent purpose — to engage, that is, in conduct that appeared to be loitering. In recent years, however, the city has been afflicted with criminal street gangs. As reflected in the record before us, these gangs congregated *74in public places to deal in drugs, and to terrorize the neighborhoods by demonstrating control over their “turf.” Many residents of the inner city felt that they were prisoners in their own homes. Once again, Chicagoans decided that to eliminate the problem it was worth restricting some of the freedom that they once enjoyed. The means they took was similar to the second, and more mild, example given above rather than the first: Loitering was not made unlawful, but when a group of people occupied a public place without an apparent purpose and in the company of a known gang member, police officers were authorized to order them to disperse, and the failure to obey such an order was made unlawful. See Chicago Municipal Code §8-4-015 (1992). The minor limitation upon the free state of nature that this prophylactic arrangement imposed upon all Chicagoans seemed to them (and it seems to me) a small price to pay for liberation of their streets.

The majority today invalidates this perfectly reasonable measure by ignoring our rules governing facial challenges, by elevating loitering to a constitutionally guaranteed right, and by discerning vagueness where, according to our usual standards, none exists.

I

Respondents’ consolidated appeal presents a facial challenge to the Chicago ordinance on vagueness grounds. When a facial challenge is successful, the law in question is declared to be unenforceable in all its applications, and not just in its particular application to the party in suit. To tell the truth, it is highly questionable whether federal courts have any business making such a declaration. The rationale for our power to review federal legislation for constitutionality, expressed in Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137 (1803), was that we had to do so in order to decide the case before us. But that rationale only extends so far as to require us to determine that the statute is unconstitutional as applied to this party, in the circumstances of this case.

*75That limitation was folly grasped by Tocqueville, in his famous chapter on the power of the judiciary in American society:

“The second characteristic of judicial power is, that it pronounces on special eases, and not upon general principles. If a judge, in deciding a particular point, destroys a general principle by passing a judgment which tends to reject all the inferences from that principle, and consequently to annul it, he remains within the ordinary limits of his functions. But if he directly attacks a general principle without having a particular case in view, he leaves the circle in which all nations have agreed to confine his authority; he assumes a more important, and perhaps a more useful influence, than that of the magistrate; but he ceases to represent the judicial power.

“Whenever a law which the judge holds to be unconstitutional is invoked in a tribunal of the United States, he may refuse to admit it as a rule .... But as soon as a judge has refused to apply any given law in a case, that law immediately loses a portion of its moral force. Those to whom it is prejudicial learn that means exist of overcoming its authority; and similar suits are multiplied, until it becomes powerless.... The political power which the Americans have intrusted to their courts of justice is therefore immense; but the evils of this power are considerably diminished by the impossibility of attacking the laws except through the courts of justice.... [W]hen a judge contests a law in an obscure debate on some particular case, the importance of his attack is concealed from public notice; his decision bears upon the interest of an individual, and the law is slighted only incidentally. Moreover, although it is censured, it is not abolished; its moral force may be diminished, but its authority is not taken away; and its final destruction can *76be accomplished only by the reiterated attacks of judicial functionaries.” Democracy in America 78, 75-76 (R. Heffner ed. 1956).

As Justice Sutherland described our system in his opinion for a unanimous Court in Massachusetts v. Mellon, 262 U. S. 447, 488 (1923):

“We have no power per se to review and annul acts of Congress on the ground that they are unconstitutional. That question may be considered only when the justification for some direct injury suffered or threatened, presenting a justiciable issue, is made to rest upon such an act. Then the power exercised is that of ascertaining and declaring the law applicable to the controversy. It amounts to little more than the negative power to disregard an unconstitutional enactment, which otherwise would stand in the way of the enforcement of a legal right.... If a case for preventive relief be presented the court enjoins, in effect, not the execution of the statute, but the acts of the official, the statute notwithstanding.”

And as Justice Brennan described our system in his opinion for a unanimous Court in United States v. Raines, 362 U. S. 17, 20-22 (1960):

“The very foundation of the power of the federal courts to declare Acts of Congress unconstitutional lies in the power and duty of those courts to decide cases and controversies before them.... This Court, as is the case with all federal courts, ‘has no jurisdiction to pronounce any statute, either of a State or of the United States, void, because irreconcilable with the Constitution, except as it is called upon to adjudge the legal rights of litigants in actual controversies. In the exercise of that jurisdiction, it is bound by two rules, to which it has rigidly adhered, one, never to anticipate a question of constitutional law in advance of the necessity of deciding it; the other never to formulate a rule of *77constitutional law broader than is required by the precise facts to which it is to be applied.’ . . . Kindred to these rules is the rule that one to whom application of a statute is constitutional will not be heard to attack the statute on the ground that impliedly it might also be taken as applying to other persons or other situations in which its application might be unconstitutional.... The delicate power of pronouncing an Act of Congress unconstitutional is not to be exercised with reference to hypothetical cases thus imagined.”

It seems to me fundamentally incompatible with this system for the Court not to be content to find that a statute is unconstitutional as applied to the person before it, but to go further and pronounce that the statute is unconstitutional in all applications. Its reasoning may well suggest as much, but to pronounce a holding on that point seems to me no more than an advisory opinion — which a federal court should never issue at all, see Hayburn’s Case, 2 Dall. 409 (1792), and especially should not issue with regard to a constitutional question, as to which we seek to avoid even ftowadvisory opinions, see, e. g., Ashwander v. TVA, 297 U. S. 288, 347 (1936) (Brandeis, J., concurring). I think it quite improper, in short, to ask the constitutional claimant before us: Do you just want us to say that this statute cannot constitutionally be applied to you in this ease, or do you want to go for broke and try to get the statute pronounced void in all its applications?

I must acknowledge, however, that for some of the present century we have done just this. But until recently, at least, we have — except in ffee-speech cases subject to the doctrine of overbreadth, see, e. g., New York v. Ferber, 458 U. S. 747, 769-773 (1982) — required the facial challenge to be a go-for-broke proposition. That is to say, before declaring a statute to be void in all its applications (something we should not be doing in the first place), we have at least imposed upon the litigant the eminently reasonable requirement that he estab*78lish that the statute was unconstitutional in all its applications. (I say that is an eminently reasonable requirement, not only because we should not be holding a statute void in all its applications unless it is unconstitutional in all its applications, but also because unless it is unconstitutional in all its applications we do not even know, without conducting an as-applied analysis, whether it is void with regard to the very litigant before us — whose case, after all, was the occasion for undertaking this inquiry in the first place.1)

As we said in United States v. Salerno, 481 U. S. 739, 745 (1987):

“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 circum*79stances exists under which the Act would be valid. The faet that [a legislative Act] might operate unconstitutionally under some conceivable set of circumstances is insufficient to render it wholly invalid, since we have not recognized an 'overbreadth’ doctrine outside the limited context of the First Amendment.” (Emphasis added.)2

This proposition did not originate with Salerno, but had been expressed in a line of prior opinions. See, e. g., Members of City Council of Los Angeles v. Taxpayers for Vincent, 466 U. S. 789, 796 (1984) (opinion for the Court by Stevens, J.) (statute not implicating First Amendment rights is invalid on its face if "it is unconstitutional in every conceivable application”); Schall v. Martin, 467 U. S. 253, 269, n. 18 (1984); Hoffman Estates v. Flipside, Hoffman Estates, Inc., 455 U. S. 489, 494-495, 497 (1982); United States v. National Dairy Products Corp., 372 U. S. 29, 31-32 (1963); Raines, 362 U. S., at 21. And the proposition has been reaffirmed in many cases and opinions since. See, e.g., Anderson v. Edwards, 514 U.S. 143, 155-156, n. 6 (1995) (unanimous Court); Babbitt v. Sweet Home Chapter, Communities for Great Ore., 515 U. S. 687, 699 (1995) (opinion for the Court by Stevens, J.) (facial challenge asserts that a challenged statute or regulation is invalid “in every circumstance”); Reno v. Flores, 507 U. S. 292, 301 (1993); Rust v. Sullivan, *80500 U. S. 173, 183 (1991); Ohio v. Akron Center for Reproductive Health, 497 U. S. 502, 514 (1990) (opinion of Kennedy, J.); Webster v. Reproductive Health Servs., 492 U. S. 490, 523-524 (1989) (O’Connoe, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); New York State Club Assn., Inc. v. City of New York, 487 U. S. 1, 11-12 (1988).3 Unsurprisingly, given the clarity of our general jurisprudence on this point, the Federal Courts of Appeals all apply the Salerno standard in adjudicating facial challenges.4

*81I am aware, of course, that in some recent facial-challenge eases the Court has, without any attempt at explanation, created entirely irrational exceptions to the “unconstitutional in every conceivable application” rule, when the statutes at issue concerned hot-button social issues on which “informed opinion” was zealously united. See Romer v. Evans, 517 U. S. 620, 643 (1996) (Scalia, J., dissenting) (homosexual rights); Planned Parenthood of Southeastern Pa. v. Casey, 505 U. S. 833, 895 (1992) (abortion rights). But the present case does not even lend itself to such a “political correctness” exception — which, though illogical, is at least predictable. It is not a la mode to favor gang members and associated loiterers over the beleaguered law-abiding residents of the inner city.

When our normal criteria for facial challenges are applied, it is clear that the Justices in the majority have transposed the burden of proof. Instead of requiring respondents, who are challenging the ordinance, to show that it is invalid in all its applications, they have required petitioner to show that it is valid in all its applications. Both the plurality opinion and the concurrences display a lively imagination, creating hypothetical situations in which the law’s application would (in their view) be ambiguous. But that creative role has been usurped from petitioner, who can defeat respondents’ facial challenge by conjuring up a single valid application of the law. My contribution would go something like this:5 Tony, a member of the Jets criminal street gang, is standing *82alongside and chatting with fellow gang members while staking out their turf at Promontory Point on the South Side of Chicago; the group is flashing gang signs and displaying their distinctive tattoos to passersby. Officer Krupke, applying the ordinance at issue here, orders the group to disperse. After some speculative discussion (probably irrelevant here) over whether the Jets are depraved because they are deprived, Tony and the other gang members break off further conversation with the statement' — not entirely coherent, but evidently intended to be rude — “Gee, Officer Krupke, krup you.” A tense standoff ensues until Officer Krupke arrests the group for failing to obey his dispersal order. Even assuming (as the Justices in the majority do, but I do not) that a law requiring obedience to a dispersal order is impermissi-bly vague unless it is clear to the objects of the order, before its issuance, that their conduct justifies it, I find it hard to believe that the Jets would not have known they had it coming. That should settle the matter of respondents’ facial challenge to the ordinance’s vagueness.

Of course respondents would still be able to claim that the ordinance was vague as applied to them. But the ultimate demonstration of the inappropriateness of the Court’s holding of facial invalidity is the fact that it is doubtful whether some of these respondents could even sustain an as-applied challenge on the basis of the majority’s own criteria. For instance, respondent Jose Renteria — who admitted that he was a member of the Satan Disciples gang — was observed by the arresting officer loitering on a street corner with other gang members. The officer issued a dispersal order, but when she returned to the same corner 15 to 20 minutes later, Renteria was still there with his Mends, whereupon he was arrested. In another example, respondent Daniel Washington and several others — who admitted they were members of the 'Vice Lords gang — were observed by the arresting officer loitering in the street, yelling at passing vehicles, stopping traffic, and preventing pedestrians from using *83the sidewalks. The arresting officer issued a dispersal order, issued another dispersal order later when the group did not move, and finally arrested the group when they were found loitering in the same place still later. Finally, respondent Gregorio Gutierrez — who had previously admitted to the arresting officer his membership in the Latin Kings gang — was observed loitering with two other men. The officer issued a dispersal order, drove around the block, and arrested the men after finding them in the same place upon his return. See Brief for Petitioner 7, n. 5; Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 16, n. 11. Even on the majority’s assumption that to avoid vagueness it must be clear to the object of the dispersal order ex ante that his conduct is covered by the ordinance, it seems most improbable that any of these as-applied challenges would be sustained. Much less is it possible to say that the ordinance is invalid in all its applications.

II

The plurality’s explanation for its departure from the usual rule governing facial challenges is seemingly contained in the following statement: “[This] is a criminal law that contains no mens rea requirement... and infringes on constitutionally protected rights .... When vagueness permeates the text of such a law, it is subject to facial attack.” Ante, at 55 (emphasis added). The proposition is set forth with such assurance that one might suppose that it repeats some well-accepted formula in our jurisprudence: (Criminal law without mens rea requirement) + (infringement of constitutionally protected right) + (vagueness) = (entitlement to facial invalidation). There is no such formula; the plurality has made it up for this case, as the absence of any citation demonstrates.

But no matter. None of the three factors that the plurality relies upon exists anyway. I turn first to the support for the proposition that there is a constitutionally protected right to loiter — or, as the plurality more favorably describes *84it, for a person to “remain in a public place of his choice.” Ante, at 54. The plurality thinks much of this Fundamental Freedom to Loiter, which it contrasts with such lesser, constitutionally unprotected, activities as doing (ugh!) business: “This is not an ordinance that simply regulates business behavior and contains a scienter requirement.... It is a criminal law that contains no mens rea requirement... and infringes on constitutionally protected rights.” Ante, at 55 (internal quotation marks omitted). (Poor Alexander Hamilton, who has seen his “commercial republic” devolve, in the eyes of the plurality, at least, into an “indolent republic,” see The Federalist No. 6, p. 56; No. 11, pp. 84-91 (C. Rossiter ed. 1961).)

Of course every activity, even scratching one’s head, can be called a “constitutional right” if one means by that term nothing more than the fact that the activity is covered (as all are) by the Equal Protection Clause, so that those who engage in it cannot be singled out without “rational basis.” See FCC v. Beach Communications, Inc., 508 U. S. 307, 313 (1993). But using the term in that sense utterly impoverishes our constitutional discourse. We would then need a new term for those activities' — such as political speech or religious worship — that cannot be forbidden even with rational basis.

The plurality tosses around the term “constitutional, right” in this renegade sense, because there is not the slightest evidence for the existence of a genuine constitutional right to loiter. Justice Thomas recounts the vast historical tradition of criminalizing the activity. Post, at 102-106 (dissenting opinion). It is simply not maintainable that the right to loiter would have been regarded as an essential attribute of liberty at the time of the framing or at the time of adoption of the Fourteenth Amendment. For the plurality, however, the historical practices of our people are nothing more than a speed bump on the road to the “right” result. Its opinion blithely proclaims: “Neither this history nor the scholarly *85compendia in Justice Thomas’ dissent, [ibid.,] persuades us that the right to engage in loitering that is entirely harmless in both purpose and effect is not a part of the liberty protected by the Due Process Clause.” Ante, at 54, n. 20. The entire practice of using the Due Process Clause to add judicially favored rights to the limitations upon democracy set forth in the Bill of Rights (usually under the rubric of so-called “substantive due process”) is in my view judicial usurpation. But we have, recently at least, sought to limit the damage by tethering the courts’ “right-making” power to an objective criterion. In Washington v. Glucksberg, 521 U. S. 702, 720-721 (1997), we explained our “established method” of substantive due process analysis: carefully and narrowly describing the asserted right, and then examining whether that right is manifested in “[ojur Nation’s history, legal traditions, and practices.” See also Collins v. Harker Heights, 503 U. S. 115, 125-126 (1992); Michael H. v. Gerald D., 491 U. S. 110, 122-123 (1989); Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494, 502-503 (1977). The plurality opinion not only ignores this necessary limitation, but it leaps far beyond any substantive-due-process atrocity we have ever committed, by actually placing the burden of proof upon the defendant to establish that loitering is not a “fundamental liberty.” It never does marshal any support for the proposition that loitering is a constitutional right, contenting itself with a (transparently inadequate) explanation of why the historical record of laws banning loitering does not positively contradict that proposition,6 and the (transparently erroneous) assertion that the city of Chicago appears to have conceded the *86point.7 It is enough for the Members of the plurality that “history ... [fails to] persuad[e] us that the right to engage in loitering that is entirely harmless in both purpose and effect is not a part of the liberty protected by the Due Process Clause,” ante, at 54, n. 20 (emphasis added); they apparently think it quite unnecessary for anything to persuade them that it is.8

It would be unfair, however, to criticize the plurality’s failed attempt to establish that loitering is a constitutionally *87protected right while saying nothing of the concurrences. The plurality at least makes an attempt. The concurrences, on the other hand, make no pretense at attaching their broad “vagueness invalidates” rule to a liberty interest. As far as appears from Justice O’Connor’s and Justice Breyer’s opinions, no police officer may issue any order, affecting any insignificant sort of citizen conduct (except, perhaps, an order addressed to the unprotected class of “gang members”) unless the standards for the issuance of that order are precise. No modern urban society — and probably none since London got big enough to have sewers — could function under such a rule. There are innumerable reasons why it may be important for a constable to tell a pedestrian to “move on” — and even if it were possible to list in an ordinance all of the reasons that are known, many are simply unpredictable. Hence the (entirely reasonable) Rule of the city of New York which reads: “No person shall fail, neglect or refuse to comply with the lawful direction or command of any Poliee Officer, Urban Park Ranger, Parks Enforcement Patrol Officer or other [Parks and Recreation] Department employee, indicated verbally, by gesture or otherwise.” 56 RCNY § 1-03(c)(1) (1996). It is one thing to uphold an “as-applied” challenge when a pedestrian disobeys such an order that is unreasonable — or even when a pedestrian asserting some true “liberty” interest (holding a political rally, for instance) disobeys such an order that is reasonable but unexplained. But to say that such a general ordinance permitting “lawful orders” is void in all its applications demands more than a safe and orderly society can reasonably deliver.

Justice Kennedy apparently recognizes this, since he acknowledges that “some poliee commands will subject a citizen to prosecution for disobeying whether or not the citizen knows why the order is given,” including, for example, an order “tell[ing] a pedestrian not to enter a building” when the reason is “to avoid impeding a rescue team.” Ante, at 69 (opinion concurring in part and concurring in judgment). *88But his only explanation of why the present interference with the “right to loiter” does not fall within that permitted scope of action is as follows: “The predicate of an order to disperse is not, in my view, sufficient to eliminate doubts regarding the adequacy of notice under this ordinance.” Ibid. I have not the slightest idea what this means. But I do understand that the followup explanatory sentence, showing how this principle invalidates the present ordinance, applies equally to the rescue-team example that Justice Kennedy thinks is constitutional — as is demonstrated by substituting for references to the facts of the present case (shown in italics) references to his rescue-team hypothetical (shown in brackets): “A citizen, while engaging in a wide array of innocent conduct, is not likely to know when he may be subject to a dispersal order [order not to enter a building] based on the officer’s own knowledge of the identity or affiliations of other persons with whom the citizen is congregating [what is going on in the building]; nor may the citizen be able to assess what an officer might conceive to be the citizen’s lack of an apparent purpose [the impeding of a rescue team].” Ante, at 69-70.

Ill

I turn next to that element of the plurality’s facial-challenge formula which consists of the proposition that this criminal ordinance contains no mens rea requirement. The first step in analyzing this proposition is to determine what the actus reus, to which that mens rea is supposed to be attached, consists of. The majority believes that loitering forms part of (indeed, the essence of) the offense, and must be proved if conviction is to be obtained. See ante, at 47, 50-51, 53-55, 57-59, 60-61, 62-63 (plurality and majority opinions); ante, at 65, 66, 68 (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); ante, at 69-70 (Kennedy, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); ante, at 72-73 (Breyer, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). That is not what the ordinance provides. The *89only part of the ordinance that refers to loitering is the portion that addresses, not the punishable conduct of the defendant, but what the police officer must observe before he can issue an order to disperse; and what he must observe is carefully defined in terms of what the defendant appears to be doing, not in terms of what the defendant is actually doing. The ordinance does not require that the defendant have been loitering (i e., have been remaining in one place with no purpose), but rather that the police officer have observed him remaining in one place without any apparent purpose. Someone who in fact has a genuine purpose for remaining where he is (waiting for a Mend, for example, or waiting to hold up a bank) can be ordered to move on (assuming the other conditions of the ordinance are met), so long as his remaining has no apparent purpose. It is likely, to be sure, that the ordinance will come down most heavily upon those who are actually loitering (those who really have no purpose in remaining where they are); but that activity is not a condition for issuance of the dispersal order.

The only act of a defendant that is made punishable by the ordinance — or, indeed, that is even mentioned by the ordinance — is his failure to "promptly obey5" an order to disperse. The question, then, is whether that actus reus must be accompanied by any wrongful intent — and of course it must. As the Court itself describes the requirement, “a person must disobey the officer’s order.” Ante, at 47 (emphasis added). No one thinks a defendant could be successfully prosecuted under the ordinance if he did not hear the order to disperse, or if he suffered a paralysis that rendered his compliance impossible. The willful failure to obey a police order is wrongful intent enough.

IV

Finally, I address the last of the three factors in the plurality’s facial-challenge formula: the proposition that the ordinance is vague. It is not. Even under the ersatz over-*90breadth standard applied in Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S. 352, 358, n. 8 (1983), which allows facial challenges if a law reaches “a substantial amount of constitutionally protected conduct,” respondents’ claim fails because the ordinance would not be vague in most or even a substantial number of applications. A law is unconstitutionally vague if its lack of definitive standards either (1) fails to apprise persons of ordinary intelligence of the prohibited conduct, or (2) encourages arbitrary and discriminatory enforcement. See, e. g., Grayned v. City of Rockford, 408 U. S. 104, 108 (1972).

The plurality relies primarily upon the first of these aspects. Since, it reasons, “the loitering is the conduct that the ordinance is designed to prohibit,” and “an officer may issue an order only after prohibited conduct has already occurred,” ante, at 58, 59, the order to disperse cannot itself serve “to apprise persons of ordinary intelligence of the prohibited conduct.” What counts for purposes of vagueness analysis, however, is not what the ordinance is “designed to prohibit,” but what it actually subjects to criminal penalty. As discussed earlier, that consists of nothing but the refusal to obey a dispersal order, as to which there is no doubt of adequate notice of the prohibited conduct. The plurality’s suggestion that even the dispersal order itself is unconstitutionally vague, because it does not specify how far to dispersed), see ante, at 59, scarcely requires a response.9 If it were true, it would render unconstitutional for vagueness many of the Presidential proclamations issued under that provision of the United States Code which requires the Pres*91ident, before using the militia or the Armed Forces for law enforcement, to issue a proclamation ordering the insurgents to disperse. See 10 U. S. C. §334. President Eisenhower’s proclamation relating to the obstruction of court-ordered enrollment of black students in public schools at Little Rock, Arkansas, read as follows: “I . . . command all persons engaged in such obstruction of justice to cease and desist therefrom, and to disperse forthwith.” Presidential Proclamation No. 3204,3 CFR 132 (1954-1958 Comp.). See also Presidential Proclamation No. 3645, 3 CFR 103 (1964-1965 Comp.) (ordering those obstructing the civil rights march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, to “disperse... forthwith”). See also Boos v. Barry, 485 U. S. 312, 331 (1988) (rejecting overbreadth/vagueness challenge to a law allowing police officers to order congregations near foreign embassies to disperse); Cox v. Louisiana, 379 U. S. 536, 551 (1965) (rejecting vagueness challenge to the dispersal-order prong of a breaeh-of-the-peaee statute and describing that prong as “narrow and specific”).

For its determination of unconstitutional vagueness, the Court relies secondarily — and Justice O’Connor’s and Justice Breyer’s concurrences exclusively — upon the second aspect of that doctrine, which requires sufficient specificity to prevent arbitrary and discriminatory law enforcement. See ante, at 60 (majority opinion); ante, at 65-66 (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment); ante, at 72 (Breyer, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). In discussing whether Chicago’s ordinance meets that requirement, the Justices in the majority hide behind an artificial construct of judicial restraint. They point to the Supreme Court of Illinois’ statement that the “apparent purpose” standard “provides absolute discretion to police officers to decide what activities constitute loitering,” 177 Ill. 2d 440, 457, 687 N. E. 2d 53, 63 (1997), and protest that it would be wrong to construe the language of the ordinance more narrowly than did the State’s highest court. Ante, at *9261, 63 (majority opinion); ante, at 68 (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment). The “absolute discretion” statement, however, is nothing more than the Illinois Supreme Court’s characterization of what the language achieved — after that court refused (as I do) to read in any limitations that the words do not fairly contain. It is not a construction of the language (to which we are bound) but a legal conclusion (to which we most assuredly are not bound).

The criteria for issuance of a dispersal order under the Chicago ordinance could hardly be clearer. First, the law requires police officers to “reasonably believ[e]” that one of the group to which the order is issued is a “criminal street gang member.” This resembles a probable-cause standard, and the Chicago Police -Department’s General Order 92-4 (1992) — promulgated to govern enforcement of the ordinance — makes the probable-cause requirement explicit.10 Under the Order, officers must have probable cause to believe that an individual is a member of a criminal street gang, to be substantiated by the officer’s “experience and knowledge of the alleged offenders” and by “specific, documented and reliable information” such as reliable witness testimony or an individual’s admission of gang membership or display of distinctive colors, tattoos, signs, or other markings worn by members of particular criminal street gangs. App. to Pet. for Cert. 67a-69a, 71a-72a.

Second, the ordinance requires that the group be “remain-ting] in any one place with no apparent purpose.” Justice O’Connor’s assertion that this applies to “any person stand*93ing in a public place,” ante, at 66, is a distortion. The ordinance does not apply to “standing,” but to “remain[ing]”— a term which in this context obviously means “[to] endure or persist,” see American Heritage Dictionary 1525 (1992). There may be some ambiguity at the margin, but “remaining] in one place” requires more than a temporary stop, and is clear in most of its applications, including all of those represented by the facts surrounding respondents’ arrests described supra, at 82-83.

As for the phrase “with no apparent purpose”: Justice O’Connor again distorts this adjectival phrase, by separating it from the word that it modifies. “[A]ny person standing on the street,” her concurrence says, “has a general ‘purpose’ — even if it is simply to stand,” and thus “the ordinance permits police officers to choose which purposes are permissible” Ante, at 66. But Chicago police officers enforcing the ordinance are not looking for people with no apparent purpose (who are regrettably in oversupply); they are looking for people who “remain in any one place with no apparent purpose” — that is, who remain there without any apparent reason for remaining there. That is not difficult to perceive.11

The Court’s attempt to demonstrate the vagueness of the ordinance produces the following peculiar statement: “The ‘no apparent purpose’ standard for making [the decision to *94issue an order to disperse] is inherently subjective because its application depends on whether some purpose is ‘apparent’ to the officer on the scene.” Ante, at 62. In the Court’s view, a person’s lack of any purpose in staying in one location is presumably an objective factor, and what the ordinance requires as a condition of an order to disperse— the absence of any apparent purpose — is a subjective factor. This side of the looking glass, just the opposite is true.

Elsewhere, of course, the Court acknowledges the clear, objective commands of the ordinance, and indeed relies upon them to paint it as unfair:

“In any public place in the city of Chicago, persons who stand or sit in the company of a gang member may be ordered to disperse unless their purpose is apparent. The mandatory language in the enactment directs the police to issue an order without first making any inquiry about their possible purposes. It matters not whether the reason that a gang member and his father, for example, might loiter near Wrigley Field is to rob an unsuspecting fan or just to get a glimpse of Sammy Sosa leaving the ballpark; in either event, if their purpose is not apparent to a nearby police officer, she may — indeed, she ‘shall’ — order them to disperse.” Ante, at 60.

Quite so. And the fact that this clear instruction to the officers “reach[es] a substantial amount of innocent conduct,” ibid., would be invalidating if that conduct were constitutionally protected against abridgment, such as speech or the practice of religion. Remaining in one place is not so protected, and so (as already discussed) it is up to the citizens of Chicago — not us — to decide whether the tradeoff is worth it.12

*95Justice Breyer’s concurrence tries to perform the impossible feat of affirming our unquestioned rule that a criminal statute that is so vague as to give constitutionally inadequate notice to some violators may nonetheless be enforced against those whose conduct is clearly covered, see ante, at 71-72, citing Parker v. Levy, 417 U. S. 733 (1974), while at the same time asserting that a statute which “delegates too much discretion to a police officer” is invalid in all its applications, even where the officer uses his discretion “wisely,” ante, at 71. But the vagueness that causes notice to be inadequate is the very same vagueness that causes “too much discretion” to be lodged in the enforcing officer. Put another way: A law that gives the policeman clear guidance in all cases gives the public clear guidance in all cases as well. Thus, what Justice Breyer gives with one hand, he takes away with the other. In his view, vague statutes that nonetheless give adequate notice to some violators are not unenforceable against those violators because of inadequate notice, but are unenforceable against them “because the policeman enjoys too much discretion in every case,” ibid. This is simply contrary to our ease law, including Parker v. Levy, supra.13

*96V

The plurality points out that Chicago already has several laws that reach the intimidating and unlawful gang-related conduct the ordinance was directed at. See ante, at 52, n. 17. The problem, of course, well recognized by Chicago’s city council, is that the gang members cease their intimidating and unlawful behavior under the watchful eye of police officers, but return to it as soon as the police drive away. The only solution, the council concluded, was to clear the streets of congregations of gangs, their drug customers, and their associates.

Justice O’Connor’s concurrence proffers the same empty solace of existing laws useless for the purpose at hand, see ante, at 67,67-68, but seeks to be helpful by suggesting some measures similar to this ordinance that would be constitutional. It says that Chicago could, for example, enact a law that “directly prohibit[s] the presence of a large collection of obviously brazen, insistent, and lawless gang members and hangers-on on the public ways, that intimidates residents.” Ante, at 67 (internal quotation marks omitted). (If the majority considers the present ordinance too vague, it would be fun to see what it makes of “a large collection of obviously brazen, insistent, and lawless gang members.”) This prescription of the concurrence is largely a quotation from the plurality — which itself answers the concurrence’s suggestion that such a law would be helpful by pointing out that the city already “has several laws that serve this purpose.” Ante, at 52, n. 17 (plurality opinion) (citing extant laws against “intimidation,” “streetgang criminal drug conspiracy,” and “mob action”). The problem, again, is that the intimidation and lawlessness do not occur when the police are in sight.

*97Justice O’Connor’s concurrence also proffers another cure: “If the ordinance applied only to persons reasonably believed to be gang members, this requirement might have cured the ordinance’s vagueness because it would have directed the manner in which the order was issued by specifying to whom the order could be issued.” Ante, at 66 (the Court agrees that this might be a cure, see ante, at 62). But the ordinance already specifies to whom the order can be issued: persons remaining in one place with no apparent purpose in the company of a gang member. And if “remaining] in one place with no apparent purpose” is so vague as to give the police unbridled discretion in controlling the conduct of nongang members, it surpasses understanding how it ceases to be so vague when applied to gang members alone. Surely gang members cannot be decreed to be outlaws, subject to the merest whim of the police as the rest of us are not.

* * *

The fact is that the present ordinance is entirely clear in its application, cannot be violated except with full knowledge and intent, and vests no more discretion in the police than innumerable other measures authorizing police orders to preserve the public peace and safety. As suggested by their tortured analyses, and by their suggested solutions that bear no relation to the identified constitutional problem, the majority’s real quarrel with the Chicago ordinance is simply that it permits (or indeed requires) too much harmless conduct by innocent citizens to be proscribed. As Justice O’Connor’s concurrence says with disapprobation, “the ordinance applies to hundreds of thousands of persons who are not gang members, standing on any sidewalk or in any park, coffee shop, bar, or other location open to the public.” Ante, at 66 (internal quotation marks omitted).

But in our democratic system, how much harmless conduct to proscribe is not a judgment to be made by the courts. So long as constitutionally guaranteed rights are not affected, *98and so long as the proscription has a rational basis, all sorts of perfectly harmless activity by millions of perfectly innocent people can be forbidden — riding a motorcycle without a safety helmet, for example, starting a campfire in a national forest, or selling a safe and effective drug not yet approved by the Food and Drug Administration. All of these acts are entirely innocent and harmless in themselves, but because of the risk of harm that they entail, the freedom to engage in them has been abridged. The citizens of Chicago have decided that depriving themselves of the freedom to “hang out” with a gang member is necessary to eliminate pervasive gang crime and intimidation — and that the elimination of the one is worth the deprivation of the other. This Court has no business second-guessing either the degree of necessity or the fairness of the trade.

I dissent from the judgment of the Court.

Justice Thomas,

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

The duly elected members of the Chicago City Council enacted the ordinance at issue as part of a larger effort to prevent gangs from establishing dominion over the public streets. By invalidating Chicago’s ordinance, I fear that the Court has unnecessarily sentenced law-abiding citizens to lives of terror and misery. The ordinance is not vague. “[A]ny fool would know that a particular category of conduct would be within [its] reach.” Kolender v. Lawson, 461 U. S. 352, 370 (1983) (White, J., dissenting). Nor does it violate the Due Process Clause. The asserted “freedom to loiter for innocent purposes,” ante, at 53 (plurality opinion), is in no way “ ‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition,’ ” Washington v. Glucksberg, 521 U. S. 702, 721 (1997) (citation omitted). I dissent.

I

The human costs exacted by criminal street gangs are inestimable. In many of our Nation’s cities, gangs have “[v]ir-*99tually overtaken] certain neighborhoods, contributing to the economic and social decline of these areas and causing fear and lifestyle changes among law-abiding residents.” U. S. Dept, of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Assistance, Monograph: Urban Street Gang Enforcement 3 (1997). Gangs fill the daily lives of many of our poorest and most vulnerable citizens with a terror that the Court does not give sufficient consideration, often relegating them to the status of prisoners in their own homes. See U. S. Dept, of Justice, Attorney General’s Report to the President, Coordinated Approach to the Challenge of Gang Violence: A Progress Report 1 (Apr. 1996) (“From the small business owner who is literally crippled because he refuses to pay ‘protection’ money to the neighborhood gang, to the families who are hostages within their homes, living in neighborhoods ruled by predatory drug trafficking gangs, the harmful impact of gang violence ... is both physically and psychologically debilitating”).

The city of Chicago has suffered the devastation wrought by this national tragedy. Last year, in an effort to curb plummeting attendance, the Chicago Public Schools hired dozens of adults to escort children to school. The youngsters had become too terrified of gang violence to leave their homes alone. Martinez, Parents Paid to Walk Line Between Gangs and School, Chicago Tribune, Jan. 21, 1998, p. 1. The children’s fears were not unfounded. In 1996, the Chicago Police Department estimated that there were 132 criminal street gangs in the city. Illinois Criminal Justice Information Authority, Research Bulletin: Street Gangs and Crime 4 (Sept. 1996). Between 1987 and 1994, these gangs were involved in 63,141 criminal incidents, including 21,689 nonlethal violent crimes and 894 homicides. Id., at 4-5.1 Many *100of these criminal incidents and homicides result from gang “turf battles,” which take place on the public streets and place innocent residents in grave danger. See U. S. Dept, of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, National Institute of Justice, Research in brief, C. Block & R. Block, Street Gang Crime in Chicago 1 (Dec. 1993); U. S. Dept. of Justice, Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, Juvenile Justice Journal, J. Howell, Youth Gang Drug Trafficking and Homicide: Policy and Program Implications (Dec. 1997); see also Testimony of Steven R. Wiley, Chief, Violent Crimes and Major Offenders Section, FBI, Hearing on S. 54 before the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, 105th Cong., 1st Sess., 13 (1997) (“While street gangs may specialize in entrepreneurial activities like drug-dealing, their gang-related lethal violence is more likely to grow out of turf conflicts”).

Before enacting its ordinance, the Chicago City Council held extensive hearings on the problems of gang loitering. Concerned citizens appeared to testify poignantly as to how gangs disrupt their daily lives. Ordinary citizens like Ms. D’Ivory Gordon explained that she struggled just to walk to work:

'When I walk out my door, these guys are out there....

“They watch you. . . . They know where you live. They know what time you leave, what time you come home. I am afraid of them. I have even come to the point now that I carry a meat cleaver to work with me....

"... I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t want to be hurt. We need to clean these corners up. Clean these communities up and take it back from them.” Transcript of Proceedings before the City Council of *101Chicago, Committee on Police and Fire 66-67 (May 15, 1992) (hereinafter Transcript).

Eighty-eight-year-old Susan Mary Jackson echoed her sentiments, testifying: “We used to have a nice neighborhood. We don’t have it anymore .... I am scared to go out in the daytime.... [Y]ou can’t pass because they are standing. I am afraid to go to the store. I don’t go to the store because I am afraid. At my age if they look at me real hard, I be ready to holler.” Id., at 93-95. Another long-time resident testified:

“I have never had the terror that I feel everyday when I walk down the streets of Chicago....

“I have had my windows broken out. I have had guns pulled on me. I have been threatened. I get intimidated on a daily basis, and it’s come to the point where I say, well, do I go out today. Do I put my ax in my briefcase. Do I walk around dressed like a bum so I am not looking rich or got any money or anything like that.” Id., at 124-125.

Following these hearings, the council found that “criminal street gangs establish control over identifiable areas ... by loitering in those areas and intimidating others from entering those areas.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 60a. It further found that the mere presence of gang members “intimidatefe] many law abiding citizens” and “creates a justifiable fear for the safety of persons and property in the area.” Ibid. It is the product of this democratic process — the council’s attempt to address these social ills — that we are asked to pass judgment upon today.

II

As part of its ongoing effort to curb the deleterious effects of criminal street gangs, the citizens of Chicago sensibly decided to return to basics. The ordinance does nothing more than confirm the well-established principle that the police *102have the duty and the power to maintain the public peace, and, when necessary, to disperse groups of individuals who threaten it. The plurality, however, concludes that the city’s commonsense effort to combat gang loitering fails constitutional scrutiny for two separate reasons — because it infringes upon gang members’ constitutional right to “loiter for innocent purposes,” ante, at 53, and because it is vague on its face, ante, at 55. A majority of the Court endorses the latter conclusion. I respectfully disagree.

A

We recently reconfirmed that “[o]ur Nation’s history, legal traditions, and practices .. . provide the crucial ‘guideposts for responsible decisionmaking’... that direct and restrain our exposition of the Due Process Clause.” Glucksberg, 521 U. S., at 721 (quoting Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494, 503 (1977) (plurality opinion)). Only laws that infringe “those fundamental rights and liberties which are, objectively, ‘deeply rooted in this Nation’s history and tradition’” offend the Due Process Clause. Glucksberg, supra, at 720-721.

The plurality asserts that “the freedom to loiter for innocent purposes is part of the 'liberty' protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.” Ante, at 53. Yet it acknowledges — as it must — that “antiloitering ordinances have long existed in this country.” Ante, at 53, n. 20; see also 177 Ill. 2d 440, 450, 687 N. E. 2d 53, 60 (1997) (case below) (“Loitering and vagrancy statutes have been utilized throughout American history in an attempt to prevent crime by removing ‘undesirable persons’ from public before they have the opportunity to engage in criminal activity”). In derogation of the framework we articulated only two Terms ago in Glucksberg, the plurality asserts that this history fails to “persuad[e] us that the right to engage in loitering that is entirely harmless ... is not a part of the liberty protected by the Due Process Clause.” Ante, at 54, *103n. 20. Apparently, the plurality believes it sufficient to rest on the proposition that antiloitering laws represent an anachronistic throwback to an earlier, less sophisticated, era. For example, it expresses concern that some antivagrancy laws carried the penalty of slavery. Ibid. But this fact is irrelevant to our analysis of whether there is a constitutional right to loiter for innocent purposes. This case does not involve an antiloitering law carrying the penalty of slavery. The law at issue in this case criminalizes the failure to obey a police officer's order to disperse and imposes modest penalties, such as a fine of up to $500 and a prison sentence of up to six months.

The plurality's sweeping conclusion that this ordinance infringes upon a liberty interest protected by the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause withers when exposed to the relevant history: Laws prohibiting loitering and vagrancy have been a fixture of Anglo-American law at least since the time of the Norman Conquest. See generally C. Ribton-Turner, A History of Vagrants and Vagrancy and Beggars and Begging (reprint 1972) (discussing history of English vagrancy laws); see also Papachristou v. Jacksonville, 405 U. S. 156, 161-162 (1972) (recounting history of vagrancy laws). The American colonists enacted laws modeled upon the English vagrancy laws, and at the time of the founding, state and local governments customarily criminalized loitering and other forms of vagrancy.2 Vagrancy laws *104were common in the decades preceding the ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment,3 and remained on the books long after.4

*105Tellingly, the plurality cites only three eases in support of the asserted right to "loiter for innocent purposes.” See ante, at 53-54. Of those, only one — decided more than 100 years after the ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment— actually addressed the validity of a vagrancy ordinance. That ease, Papachristou, supra, contains some dicta that can be read to support the fundamental right that the plurality asserts.5 However, the Court in Papachristou did not undertake the now-accepted analysis applied in substantive due process cases — it did not look to tradition to define the rights protected by the Due Process Clause. In any event, a careful reading of the opinion reveals that the Court never said anything about a constitutional right. The Court’s holding was that the antiquarian language employed in the vagrancy ordinance at issue was unconstitutionally vague. See id., at 162-163. Even assuming, then, that Papachristou was correctly decided as an original matter — a doubtful proposi*106tion — it does not compel the conclusion that the Constitution protects the right to loiter for innocent purposes. The plurality’s contrary assertion calls to mind the warning that “[t]he Judiciary, including this Court, is the 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 even the design of the Constitution. . . . [We] should be extremely reluctant to breathe still further substantive content into the Due Process Clause so as to strike down legislation adopted by a State or city to promote its welfare.” Moore, 481 U. S., at 544 (White, J., dissenting). When “the Judiciary does so, it unavoidably pre-empts for itself another part of the governance of the country without express constitutional authority.”

B

The Court concludes that the ordinance is also unconstitutionally vague because it fails to provide adequate standards to guide police discretion and because, in the plurality’s view, it does not give residents adequate notice of how to conform their conduct to the confines of the law. I disagree on both counts.

1

At the outset, it is important to note that the ordinance does not criminalize loitering per se. Rather, it penalizes loiterers’ failure to obey a police officer’s order to move along. A majority of the Court believes that this scheme vests too much discretion in police officers. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Far from according officers too much discretion, the ordinance merely enables police officers to fulfill one of their traditional functions. Police officers are not, and have never been, simply enforcers of the criminal law. They wear other hats — importantly, they have long been vested with the responsibility for preserving the public peace. See, e. g., 0. Allen, Duties and Liabilities of Sheriffs *10759 (1845) (“As the principal conservator of the peace in his county, and as the calm but irresistible minister of the law, the duty of the Sheriff is no less important than his authority is great”); E. Freund, Police Power §86, p. 87 (1904) (“The criminal law deals with offenses after they have been committed, the police power aims to prevent them. The activity of the police for the prevention of crime is partly such as needs no special legal authority”). Nor is the idea that the police are also peace officers simply a quaint anachronism. In most American jurisdictions, police officers continue to be obligated, by law, to maintain the public peace.6

In their role as peace officers, the police long have had the authority and the duty to order groups of individuals who threaten the public peace to disperse. For example, the 1887 police manual for the city of New York provided:

*108“It is hereby made the duty of the Police Force at all times of day and night, and the members of such Force are hereby thereunto empowered, to especially preserve the public peace, prevent crime, detect and arrest offenders, suppress riots, mobs and insurrections, disperse unlawful or dangerous assemblages, and assemblages which obstruct the free passage of public streets, sidewalks, parks and places” Manual Containing the Rules and Regulations of the Police Department of the City of New York, Rule 414 (emphasis added).

See also J. Crocker, Duties of Sheriffs, Coroners and Constables §48, p. 38 (2d ed. rev. 1871) (“Sheriffs are, ex officio, conservators of the peace within their respective counties, and it is their duty, as well as that of all constables, coroners, marshals and other peace officers, to prevent every breach of the peace, and to suppress every unlawful assembly, affray or riot which may happen in their presence” (emphasis added)). The authority to issue dispersal orders continues to play a commonplace and crucial role in police operations, particularly in urban areas.7 Even the ABA Standards for *109Criminal Justice recognize that “[i]n day-to-day police experience there are innumerable situations in which police are called upon to order people not to block the sidewalk, not to congregate in a given place, and not to ‘loiter’ .... The police may suspect the loiterer of considering engaging in some form of undesirable conduct that can be at least temporarily frustrated by ordering him or her to ‘move on.’” Standard 1 — 8.4(d), p. 1.88, and comments (2d ed. 1980, Supp. 1986).8

In order to perform them peacekeeping responsibilities satisfactorily, the police inevitably must exercise discretion. Indeed, by empowering them to act as peace officers, the law assumes that the police will exercise that discretion responsibly and with sound judgment. That is not to say that the law should not provide objective guidelines for the police, but simply that it cannot rigidly constrain their every action. By directing a police officer not to issue a dispersal order unless he “observes a person whom he reasonably believes to be a criminal street gang member loitering in any public place,” App. to Pet. for Cert. 61a, Chicago’s ordinance strikes an appropriate balance between those two extremes. Just as we trust officers to rely on their experience and expertise in order to make spur-of-the-moment determinations about amorphous legal standards such as “probable cause” *110and “reasonable suspicion,” so we must trust them to determine whether a group of loiterers contains individuals (in this case members of criminal street gangs) whom the city has determined threaten the public peace. See Ornelas v. United States, 517 U. S. 690, 695, 700 (1996) (“Articulating precisely what ‘reasonable suspicion’ and ‘probable cause’ mean is not possible. They are eommonsense, nontechnical conceptions that deal with the factual and practical considerations of everyday life on which reasonable and prudent men, not legal technicians, act. . . . [O]ur cases have recognized that a police officer may draw inferences based on his own experience in deciding whether probable cause exists” (citations and internal quotation marks omitted)). In sum, the Court’s conclusion that the ordinance is impermissibly vague because it “ ‘necessarily entrusts lawmaking to the moment-to-moment judgment of the policeman on his beat,’ ” ante, at 60, cannot be reconciled with common sense, longstanding police practice, or this Court’s Fourth Amendment jurisprudence.

The illogic of the Court’s position becomes apparent when it opines that the ordinance’s dispersal provision “would no doubt be sufficient if the ordinance only applied to loitering that had an apparently harmful purpose or effect, or possibly if it only applied to loitering by persons reasonably believed to be criminal gang members.” Ante, at 62 (footnote omitted). See also ante, at 67 (O’Connor, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (endorsing Court’s proposal). With respect, if the Court believes that the ordinance is vague as written, this suggestion would not cure the vagueness problem. First, although the Court has suggested that a scienter requirement may mitigate a vagueness problem “with respect to the adequacy of notice to the complainant that his conduct is proscribed,” Hoffman Estates v. Flipside, Hoffman Estates, Inc., 455 U. S. 489, 499 (1982) (footnote omitted), the alternative proposal does not incorporate a sci-enter requirement. If the ordinance’s prohibition were lim*111ited to loitering with “an apparently harmful purpose,” the criminality of the conduct would continue to depend on its external appearance, rather than the loiterer’s state of mind. See Black’s Law Dictionary 1345 (6th ed. 1990) (scienter “is frequently used to signify the defendant’s guilty knowledge”). For this reason, the proposed alternative would neither satisfy the standard suggested in Hoffman Estates nor serve to channel police discretion. Indeed, an ordinance that required officers to ascertain whether a group of loiterers have “an apparently harmful purpose” would require them to exercise more discretion, not less. Furthermore, the ordinance in its current form — requiring the dispersal of groups that contain at least one gang member — actually vests less discretion in the police than would a law requiring that the police disperse groups that contain only gang members. Currently, an officer must reasonably suspect that one individual is a member of a gang. Under the plurality’s proposed law, an officer would be required to make such a determination multiple times.

In concluding that the ordinance adequately channels police discretion, I do not suggest that a police officer enforcing the Gang Congregation Ordinance will never make a mistake. Nor do I overlook the possibility that a police officer, acting in bad faith, might enforce the ordinance in an arbitrary or discriminatory way. But our decisions should not turn on the proposition that such an event will be anything but rare. Instances of arbitrary or discriminatory enforcement of the ordinance, like any other law, are best addressed when (and if) they arise, rather than prophylactically through the disfavored mechanism of a facial challenge on vagueness grounds. See United States v. Salerno, 481 U. S. 739, 745 (1987) (“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”).

*1122

The plurality’s conclusion that the ordinance “fails to give the ordinary citizen adequate notice of what is forbidden and what is permitted,” ante, at 60, is similarly untenable. There is nothing “vague” about an order to disperse.9 While “we can never expect mathematical certainty from our language,” Grayned v. City of Rockford, 408 U. S. 104, 110 (1972), it is safe to assume that the vast majority of people who are ordered by the police to “disperse and remove themselves from the area” will have little difficulty understanding how to comply. App. to Pet. for Cert. 61a.

Assuming that we are also obligated to consider whether the ordinance places individuals on notice of what conduct might subject them to such an order, respondents in this facial challenge bear the weighty burden of establishing that the statute is vague in all its applications, “in the sense that no standard of conduct is specified at all.” Coates v. Cincinnati, 402 U. S. 611, 614 (1971). I subscribe to the view of retired Justice White — “If any fool would know that a particular category of conduct would be within the reach of the statute, if there is an unmistakable core that a reasonable person would know is forbidden by the law, the enactment is not unconstitutional on its face.” Kolender, 461 U. S., at 370-371 (dissenting opinion). This is certainly such a ease. As the Illinois Supreme Court recognized, “persons of ordinary intelligence may maintain a common and accepted *113meaning of the word 'loiter.’” 177 Ill. 2d, at 451, 687 N. E. 2d, at 61.

Justice Stevens’ contrary conclusion is predicated primarily on the erroneous assumption that the ordinance proscribes large amounts of constitutionally protected and/or innocent conduct. See ante, at 55, 56-57, 60-. As already explained, supra, at 102-106, the ordinance does not proscribe constitutionally protected conduct — there is no fundamental right to loiter. It is also anomalous to characterize loitering as “innocent” conduct when it has been disfavored throughout American history. When a category of conduct has been consistently criminalized, it can hardly be considered “innocent.” Similarly, when a term has long been used to describe criminal conduct, the need to subject it to the “more stringent vagueness test” suggested in Hoffman Estates, 455 U. S., at 499, dissipates, for there is no risk of a trap for the unwary. The term “loiter” is no different from terms such as “fraud,” “bribery,” and “perjury.” We expect people of ordinary intelligence to grasp the meaning of such legal terms despite the fact that they are arguably imprecise.10

The plurality also concludes that the definition of the term loiter — “to remain in any one place with no apparent pur*114pose,” see 177 Ill. 2d, at 445, 687 N. E. 2d, at 58 — fails to provide adequate notice.11 “It is difficult to imagine,” the plurality posits, “how any citizen of the city of Chicago standing in a public place . . . would know if he or she had an ‘apparent purpose.’ ” Ante, at 56-57. The plurality underestimates the intellectual capacity of the citizens of Chicago. Persons of ordinary intelligence are perfectly capable of evaluating how outsiders perceive their conduct, and here “[i]t is self-evident that there is a whole range of conduct that anyone with at least a semblance of common sense would know is [loitering] and that would be covered by the statute.” See Smith v. Goguen, 415 U. S. 566, 584 (1974) (White, J., concurring in judgment). Members of a group standing on the corner staring blankly into space, for example, are likely well aware that passersby would conclude that they have “no apparent purpose.” In any event, because this is a facial challenge, the plurality’s ability to hypothesize that some individuals, in some circumstances, may be unable to ascertain how their actions appear to outsiders is irrelevant to our analysis. Here, we are asked to determine whether the ordinance is “vague in all of its applications.” Hoffman Estates, supra, at 497. The answer is unquestionably no.

* * *

Today, the Court focuses extensively on the “rights” of gang members and their companions. It can safely do so— the people who will have to live with the consequences of *115today’s opinion do not live in our neighborhoods. Rather, the people who will suffer from our lofty pronouncements are people like Ms. Susan Mary Jackson; people who have seen their neighborhoods literally destroyed by gangs and violence and drugs. They are good, decent people who must struggle to overcome their desperate situation, against all odds, in order to raise their families, earn a living, and remain good citizens. As one resident described: “There is only about maybe one or two percent of the people in the city causing these problems maybe, but it’s keeping 98 percent of us in our houses and off the streets and afraid to shop.” Transcript 126. By focusing exclusively on the imagined “rights” of the two percent, the Court today has denied our most vulnerable citizens the very thing that Justice Stevens, ante, at 54, elevates above all else — the “ ‘freedom of movement.’ ” And that is a shame. 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.

Opinion

RATTIGAN, J.

Huey P. Newton appeals from a judgment convicting him of voluntary manslaughter.

Count One of an indictment issued by the Alameda County Grand Jury in November 1967, charged defendant with the murder (Pen. Code, § 187) of John Frey; count Two, with assault with a deadly weapon upon the person of Herbert Heanes, knowing or having reasonable cause to know Heanes to be a peace officer engaged in the performance of his duties (Pen. Code, § 245b); count Three, with the kidnaping of Dell Ross. (Pen. Code, § 207.) The indictment also alleged that defendant had previously (in 1964) been convicted of assault with a deadly weapon, a felony. He pleaded not guilty to all three counts and denied the prior.

After the People rested during the lengthy jury trial which followed in 1968, and pursuant to Penal Code section 1118.1, the trial court granted defendant’s motion for acquittal on count Three (the Ross kidnaping). Similar motions, addressed to the other counts, were denied. The jury acquitted him of the Heanes assault charged in count Two, but found him guilty of the voluntary manslaughter of Frey under count One. The jury also found the charge of the prior felony conviction to be true. Defendant’s motions for new trial and for probation were denied, and he was sentenced to state prison for the term prescribed by law. This appeal followed.

At relevant times, John Frey and Herbert Heanes were officers of the Oakland Police Department. The criminal charges against defendant arose from a street altercation in which Frey was fatally wounded by gunfire, and Heanes and defendant were shot, on October 28, 1967. Through the testimony of Oakland police radio dispatcher Clarence Lord, and a tape recording of the radio transmissions mentioned therein, the People showed that the following events first occurred on the date in question:

Lord was on radio duty in the Oakland Police Administration Building. Officer Frey was also on duty, and alone in a police car, patrolling an assigned beat in Oakland. At about 4:51 a.m., he radioed Lord and requested a check on an automobile which was moving in his vicinity and which bore license number AZM 489. Less than a minute later, Lord told *367Frey that “we have got some PIN information coming out on that.”1 Frey replied, “Check. It’s a known Black Panther vehicle. . . . • I am going to stop it at Seventh and Willow [Streets]. You might send a unit by.” (“Check,” in this context, meant that Frey had received Lord’s message.) Officer Heanes, who was listening to this conversation in his police car on another beat, called in that he was “enroute” to Seventh and Willow Streets. This transmission terminated at about 4:52 a.m.

A few minutes later Frey asked Lord by radio, “you got any information on this guy yet?” Explaining this call, Lord testified that “when I gave him [Frey] the information there was PIN information he made the car stop on the strength of that, on the strength of the PIN information. He [now] wants to know what information I have that told him to stop the vehicle.” Lord gave Frey the name “LaVerne Williams” and asked him “if there were a LaVerne Williams in the vehicle.” Frey replied in the affirmative. Lord told him there were a “couple" of warrants issued to LaVerne Williams, for parking violations, on the identified vehicle.

Lord testified that under such circumstances “[w]e check and see if the warrants are still outstanding, first of all, and if they are, and then they [the officers outside] can ascertain if they have that person stopped on the street, then they take action concerning the warrant.” Pursuing this procedure in the radio conversation, he gave Frey an address for “LaVerne Williams" and said “Let me know if this is the same address or not.” Frey asked Lord, “What’s his description?” Lord replied/1. . . I don’t have the description. Do you have a birth date on him' there? We’re checking him out right now downstairs.”

After another brief interval, and just before 5 a.m., this further exchange occurred by radio: “Frey: 1A, it’s the same address. He has on his registration 1114- 12th Street? Radio [Lord]: Check. What’s his birth date? Frey: He gave me some phony. I guess he caught on. Radio: Okay, check. It’s not necessary, anyway. We’re checking him out downstairs there. We’ll have the information back in a few minutes. Frey: Check. Thanks.” The next relevant radio call, received at 5:03 a.m., was a “940B” (“an officer needs assistance immediately”) from Officer Heanes at Seventh and Willow Streets.

Officer Heanes testified for the People as follows: He arrived at Seventh and Willow Streets “three to four minutes” after responding by radio to Officer Frey’s “cover call.” Officer Frey’s police car was parked at the south curb of Seventh Street, east of Willow Street and facing east. A *368beige Volkswagen was parked directly in front of it, also facing east. Heanes parked his car behind Frey’s, alighted and walked to the right rear of the Volkswagen. At this time, two men were seated in the Volkswagen, both in the front seat; Officer Frey was standing near the driver’s door of the vehicle, writing a citation. (Heanes made an in-court identification of defendant as the man "seated in the driver’s seat of the Volkswagen.)

After a minute or so, Heanes followed Frey to the latter’s vehicle, where he heard Frey talk to the police radio dispatcher about an address and a birth date. When Frey finished the radio call, he and Heanes had a conversation in which Frey indicated that defendant, when asked for identification, had produced the Volkswagen registration and given his name as “LaVeme Williams.” While Frey remained in his car, Heanes walked forward to the Volkswagen, addressed defendant as “Mr. Williams,” and asked if he had any further identification. Defendant, still seated in the vehicle, said “I am Huey Newton.” Frey then approached the Volkswagen and conversed with Heanes, who asked defendant to get out of the car. Defendant asked “if there was any particular reason why he' should.” Heanes asked him “if there was any reason why he didn’t want to.” Frey then informed defendant that he was under arrest ánd ordered him out of the car.

Defendant got out of the Volkswagen and walked, “rather briskly” and in a westerly direction, to the rear of the police cars. Frey followed, three or four feet behind defendant and slightly to his (defendant’s) right. Heanes followed them, but stopped at the front end of Frey’s police car (the second car in line). Defendant walked to the “rear part” of Heanes’s car (third in line), Frey still behind him, and turned around. He assumed a stance with his feet apart, knees flexed, both “arms down” at hip level in front of his body.

Heanes heard a gunshot and saw Officer Frey move toward defendant. As he (Heanes) drew and raised his own gun in his right hand, a bullet struck his right forearm. He grabbed his arm “momentarily” and noticed, from the comer of his eye, a man standing on the curb between the Volkswagen and Officer Frey’s police car. Heanes turned and aimed his gun at the man (whom he apparently identified at the time as defendant’s passenger, although he had not seen the passenger get out of the Volkswagen). The man “raised his hands and stated to me he wasn’t armed, and he had no intentions of harming me.” To the best of Heanes’ knowledge, the man’s hands were empty.

Heanes returned his attention to Officer Frey and defendant, who were “on the trunk lid of my car [the third car in line] tussling.” The two were in “actual physical contact” and “seemed to be wrestling all over the trunk *369area of my car.” He next remembered being on his knees at the front door of Frey’s (the second) car, approximately “30, 35 feet” from the other two men. Defendant was then facing him; Officer Frey was “facing from the side” of defendant, toward the curb, and appeared to be “hanging onto” him. Holding his gun in his left hand, Heanes aimed at defendant and fired “at his midsection.” Defendant did not fall; Heanes saw no one fall at any time. He (Heanes) then heard “other gunshots . . . from the area of where Officer Frey and . . . [defendant] . . . were tussling on the rear part of my car.”2 Heanes did not see a gun in defendant’s hand at any time. He next remembered “laying” in Officer Frey’s police car, and calling an “emergency 940B” on its radio. After that, and through the vehicle’s rear window, he saw two men running in a westerly direction toward Seventh and Willow Streets.

Henry Grier, a bus driver employed by AC Transit, gave this testimony for the People: Driving his empty bus westbound on Seventh Street at about 4:58 a.m. on October 28, 1967, he saw the three vehicles parked at the south curb, “about bumper to bumper,” west of Willow Street. “Red lights” were flashing on the police cars. He also saw two uniformed police officers and two “civilians” standing together in the street, to his left and next to the Volkswagen. He continued west on Seventh Street to a turnaround point two blocks west of Willow Street, turned without stopping, returned on Seventh Street in an eastbound direction, and stopped to pick up two bus passengers at Willow Street.

Continuing east on Seventh Street, Grier again came upon the three parked vehicles. This was four to five minutes after he passed them while headed west. He saw the same flashing lights on the police cars, and three men in the street. Two of them, a police officer and a “civilian,” were walking toward the bus. When Grier first saw them, they were 20-25 feet distant from him and a point between the Volkswagen and the first police car parked behind it. The officer was walking a “pace” behind the civilian, and was apparently holding him “sort of tugged under the arm.” The third man in the street was another police officer, who was walking in the same direction about “ten paces” behind the first officer and the civilian. *370(Grier did not then, or again, see the other “civilan” he had noticed when driving west on Seventh Street.)

As the first pair drew closer to the bus, which was still “rolling,” the civilian pulled a gun from inside his shirt and “spun around.” The first police officer “grabbed him by the arm.” The two struggled, and “the gun went off.” The officer walking behind them “was hit and he fell”; after he was hit, he drew his gun and fired. Grier stopped the bus immediately and called “central dispatch” on its radio. At this point, the first officer and the civilian were struggling near the front door of the bus and within a few feet of Grier. He saw the civilian, standing “sort of in a crouched position,” fire several shots into the first officer as the latter was falling forward.3 These shots were fired from, or within, a distance of “four or five feet” from the midsection of the officer’s body; the last one was fired “in the direction of his back” as he lay, face down, on the ground. While these shots were being fired, Grier was saying on the bus radio, “Get help, a police officer is being shot. Shots are flying everywhere; get help. Help, quick.” After firing the last shot at the fallen officer, the civilian “went diagonally across Seventh [Street].” At the trial, Grier positively identified defendant as the “civilian” mentioned in his account of the shootings.

Gilbert DeHoyos and Thomas Fitzmaurice, both Oakland police officers, testified for the People as follows: Shortly after 5 a.m. on October 28, 1967, both responded to Officer Heanes’ “940B” call for assistance. Officer DeHoyos arrived at Seventh and Willow Streets less than a minute later; Officer Fitzmaurice arrived just behind him. They found Officer Frey lying on the street near the rear of Heanes’ police car, still alive, and Heanes in the front seat of Frey’s car. They saw no other persons nearby. Officer Heanes told Fitzmaurice that “his leg hurt and his arm and that Huey Newton had done it ... he told me he had fired [at defendant] and I think he hit him ... he [Heanes] thought he hit him.”

Defendant arrived at the emergency desk of Kaiser Hospital at 5:50 a.m. on the same morning. He asked to see a doctor, stating “I have been shot in the stomach.” A nurse called the police. Officer Robert Fredericks arrived and placed defendant under arrest. He (defendant) had a bullet wound in his abdomen. The bullet had entered in the front and exited through the back of his body.

Officers Frey and Heanes were taken to Merritt Hospital, where Frey was dead on arrival. He had been shot five times, at approximately the same time but in an unknown order. One bullet entered in the front, and *371exited through the back, of his left shoulder; another passed through his left thigh, also from front to back. A third (the only one recovered from Frey’s body) entered the midback and lodged near the left hip. A fourth creased the left elbow. Another bullet entered the back, traversed the lungs, and exited through the right shoulder in front: this wound caused Officer Frey’s death within 10 minutes. Officer Heanes had three bullet wounds: one in his right arm, one in the left knee, one in the chest.

Three slugs were recovered: one from Officer Frey’s hip, one from Heanes’ left knee, and a third which had been lodged in the right front door of the Volkswagen. In addition, two 9-mm. Luger shell casings were found at the scene. One was in the street between the two police cars, the other near the left front bumper of Heanes’ car and approximately where Frey was lying. The 9-mm. bullets had been fired from an automatic (Officers Frey and Heanes carried .3 8-caliber Smith & Wesson revolvers). A live 9-mm. Luger cartridge was found on the floor of the Volkswagen, between the two front seats. Only Officer Heanes’ gun was found; he was holding it when the other officers arrived at the scene. Two rounds had been expended from the gun. Neither a Luger nor Officer Frey’s revolver was found.

Oakland Police Department Officer John Davis testified for the People as follows: Two types of gunpowder, ball and flake, were involved in the shootings. Officer Frey’s gunbelt contained high velocity cartridges with ball powder. Officer Heanes’ gun used flake powder cartridges; the 9-mm. cartridges also contained flake powder. The three slugs recovered from Officer Frey’s body, Heanes’ knee and the Volkswagen door were .38-caliber specials fired with ball powder, similar to the cartridges in Officer Frey’s gunbelt. The slugs found in both officers’ bodies were fired from the same .38-caliber Smith & Wesson revolver, the type of weapon normally carried by Officer Frey; neither had been fired from Heanes’ gun, which was of the same type.

Davis testified that a gunshot fired into a body from close range (up to “five, six feet,” and with variations) will leave powder deposits at the point of impact; a gun firing a high velocity, ball powder bullet would have to be fired from a distance of more than six feet to leave no such deposits. Among several bullet-entry holes in Officer Frey’s clothing, three (one in the left thigh and two in the back) were surrounded by ball powder deposits. Davis estimated that these shots were fired at the victim from distances of 12-24 inches, 12 inches and 6-12 inches. The other two entry holes in Frey’s clothing (in the shoulder and elbow area) showed no powder deposits, and none appeared at the bullet-entry holes in the clothing worn by Officer Heanes and defendant.

*372 Defense Evidence

Tommy Miller gave this testimony for the defense: He boarded an eastbound bus at Seventh and Willow Streets at about 5 a.m. on October 28, 1967. As the bus moved away from the stop, and the driver was making change for him and another passenger, he saw “red lights and police cars” on Seventh Street, and police officers and another man in the street; one of the officers “had him [the man] up against the car.” The witness could identify no faces; it was “too dark,” and the persons in the street were facing away from him. Hearing “a lot of gunfire,” he laid down in the rear of the bus. When the shooting stopped, he got up and saw, from the back of the bus (which had stopped), a police officer lying on the ground.

Gene McKinney, who was also called by the defense, testified 'that he was defendant’s passenger in the Volkswagen at Seventh and Willow Streets. He thereafter pleaded self-incrimination as to any and all subsequent questions, was held in contempt by the trial court, and gave no further testimony.

Defendant, testifying in his own behalf, denied killing Officer Frey, shooting Officer Heanes, or carrying a gun on the morning of the shootings. His account of the episode was as follows: He was driving with Gene McKinney on Willow Street, and had just turned into Seventh Street when he noticed a red light through the rear window of the Volkswagen. He pulled over to the curb and stopped. Officer Frey approached the Volkswagen and said “Well, well, well, what do we have? The great, great Huey P. Newton.” Frey asked for defendant’s driver’s license "and inquired as to the ownership of the Volkswagen. Defendant handed him his (defendant’s) license, and the vehicle registration, and said that the car belonged to LaVeme Williams. Officer Frey returned the license and walked back to his patrol car with the registration.

A few minutes later Officer Heanes arrived, conversed with Frey, then walked up to the Volkswagen and asked, “Mr. Williams, do you have any further identification?” Defendant said, “What do' you mean, Mr. Williams? My name is Huey P. Newton . . .” Heanes replied, “Yes, I know who you are.” Officer Frey then ordered defendant out of the car. He got out, taking with him a criminal law book in his right hand. He asked if he was under arrest; Officer Frey said no, but ordered defendant to lean against the car. Frey then searched him, placing his hands inside defendant’s trousers and touching his genitals. (Officer Heanes had testified that defendant was not searched at any time.) McKinney, who had also alighted from the Volkswagen, was then standing with Officer Heanes on the street side of the Volkswagen.

*373Seizing defendant’s left arm with his right hand, Officer Frey told him to go back to his patrol car. Defendant walked, with the officer “kind of pushing” him, past the first police car to the back door of the second one. Defendant opened his book4 and said, “You have no reasonable cause to arrest me.” The officer said, “You can take that book and stick it up your ass, Nigger.” He then struck defendant in the face, dazing him. Defendant stumbled backwards and fell to one knee. Officer Frey drew a revolver. Defendant felt a “sensation like . . . boiling hot soup had been spilled on my stomach,” and heard an “explosion,” then a “volley of shots.” He remembered “crawling ... a moving sensation,” but nothing else until he found himself at the entrance of Kaiser Hospital with no knowledge of how he arrived there. He expressly testified that he was “unconscious or semiconscious” during this interval, that he was “still only semiconscious” at the hospital entrance, and that—after recalling some events at Kaiser Hospital—he later “regained consciousness” at another hospital.

The defense called Bernard Diamond, M.D., who testified that defendant’s recollections were “compatible” with the gunshot wound he had received; and that “[a] gunshot wound which penetrates in a body cavity, the abdominal cavity or the thoracic cavity is very likely to produce a profound reflex shock reaction, that is quite different than a gunshot wound which penetrates only skin and muscle and it is not at all uncommon for a person shot in the abdomen to lose consciousness and go into this reflex shock condition for short periods of time up to half an hour or so.”

The Instructions Upon Unconsciousness

Defendant asserts prejudicial error in the trial court’s failure to instruct the jury on the subject of unconsciousness as a defense to a charge of criminal homicide. As the record shows—and the Attorney General emphasizes—that defendant’s original request for instructions on this subject was “withdrawn,” we first recount the sequence in which this occurred. During the trial, defense counsel submitted to the court a formal list requesting— by number only—specified CALJIC instructions pertaining, among other things, to self-defense (322 and 3 22-A), unconsciousness (71-C and 71-D), diminished capacity and manslaughter.5 At the suggestion of all counsel, the court announced that “. . . [Ajrgument and discussion concerning *374the proposed instruction will be had in chambers and when we get through ... we will come out and place on the record the rulings of the Court . . . [on the instructions proposed by both sides] . . .” The conference in chambers, which followed, was not reported (although it apparently lasted for several hours). At the opening of the next trial day, this exchange occurred between the court and defense counsel:

“The Court: Gentlemen, in connection with the instructions, in discussion in chambers the attorneys for the defendant have withdrawn their request for Instruction No. 322, 322A, of CALJIC, being instructions in self-defense. Is that correct, Mr. Garry?

“Mr. Garry [defense counsel]: That is correct.

“The Court: Mr. Newton, you understand that? Meet with your approval?

“The Defendant: Yes, it does.

“The Court: Now, the attorneys for the defendant have requested that the Court give either 71C and 7ID, or give 73B of CALJIC. Now, is that correct?

“Mr. Garry: That is correct.

“The Court: Very well. The Court will give 73B, and at the request of the defendant will not give 71C and 71D. Does that meet with your approval, Mr. Garry?

“Mr. Garry: Yes, Your Honor.

“The Court: Mr. Newton, that has been explained to you and it meets with your approval?

“The Defendant: Yes.” (Italics added.)

The trial court then enumerated, with some intermittent discussion, the CALJIC and other instructions which be given. This exchange followed:

“Mr. Garry: Let the record show that the instructions that have been requested by the defendant that are not being given, of course, will be stated as an objection on our part.

“The Court: Well, with the exception, of course, of those which have— 322 and 322A—which you have withdrawn, 71C and 7 ID which, in effect, you have withdrawn, because we are giving 73B—

“Mr. Garry: Yes, Your Honor.

“The Court: Those are the only ones. All the other instructions, yes, *375I have gone through all of them and they are either not given or else they are covered by other instructions given, and I will make a note, of course, on each instruction . . . and file that. You know now what instructions the Court plans to give. . . ,”* **6

Thereafter the trial court fully and correctly instructed the jury on murder in the first degree (including the requisite elements of willfulness, deliberation, premeditation and malice aforethought) and in the second (including the element of malice aforethought). At defendant’s request, the court also gave instructions on voluntary manslaughter7 and diminished capacity.8 Pursuant to the judge’s intentions as announced in the dialog quoted above, the instructions originally requested by defendant on self-defense (CALJIC 322 and 322-A) and unconsciousness (71-C and 71-D) were not given; the jury was instructed on neither subject.

Although the evidence of the fatal affray is both conflicting and confused as to who shot whom and when, some of it supported the inference that defendant had been shot in the abdomen before he fired any shots himself.9 *376Given this sequence, defendant’s testimony of his sensations when shot— supplemented to a degree, as it was, by Dr. Diamond’s opinion based upon the nature of the abdominal wound—supported the further inference that defendant was in a state of unconsciousness when Officer Frey was shot.

Where not self-induced, as by voluntary intoxication or the equivalent (of which there is no evidence here, as we pointed out in fn. 8, ante), unconsciousness is a complete defense to a charge of criminal homicide. (Pen. Code, § 26, subd. Five; People v. Graham (1969) 71 Cal.2d 303, 316-317 [78 Cal.Rptr. 217, 455 P.2d 153]; People v. Wilson (1967) 66 Cal.2d 749, 760-762 [59 Cal.Rptr. 156, 427 P.2d 820].) “Unconsciousness,” as the term is used in the rule just cited, need not reach the physical dimensions commonly associated with the term (coma, inertia, incapability of locomotion or manual action, and so on); it can exist—and the above-stated rule can apply—where the subject physically acts in fact but is not, at the time, conscious of acting.10 The statute underlying the rule makes this clear,11 as does one of the unconsciousness instructions originally requested by defendant.12 (See also People v. Roerman (1961) 189 Cal.App.2d 150, 160-163 [10 Cal.Rptr. 870] and cases cited.) Thus, the rule has been invoked in many cases where the actor fired multiple gunshots while inferably in a state of such “unconsciousness” (e.g., People v. Coogler (1969) 71 Cal.2d 153, 157-159, 161-166, 169 [77 Cal.Rptr. 790, 454 P.2d 686]; People v. Wilson, supra, at pp. 752-753, 755-756, 761-763; People v. Bridgehouse (1956) 47 Cal.2d 406, 409-411, 414 [303 P.2d 1018]; People v. Moore (1970) 5 Cal.App.3d 486, 488-490, 492 [85 Cal.Rptr. 194]; People v. Edgmon (1968) 267 Cal.App.2d 759, 762-763, 764 [fn. 5], [73 Cal.Rptr. 634]; People v. Cox (1944) 67 Cal.App.2d 166, 169-173 [153 P.2d 362]), including some in which the only evidence of “unconsciousness” was the actor’s own testimony that he did not recall the shooting. *377(E.g., People v. Wilson, supra, at pp. 755-756, 762; People v. Bridgehouse, supra, at pp. 409-411.)

Where evidence of involuntary unconsciousness has been produced in a homicide prosecution, the refusal of a requested instruction on the subject, and its effect as a complete defense if found to have existed, is prejudicial error. (People v. Wilson, supra, 66 Cal.2d 749 at p. 764; People v. Bridgehouse, supra, 47 Cal.2d 406 at p. 414. See People v. Mosher (1969) 1 Cal.3d 379, 391 [82 Cal.Rptr. 379, 461 P.2d 659]; People v. Coogler, supra, 71 Cal.2d 153 at p. 169.) The fact, if it appears, that such evidence does not inspire belief does not authorize the failure to instruct: “However incredible the testimony of a defendant may be he is entitled to an instruction based upon the hypothesis that it is entirely true.” (People v. Modesto (1963) 59 Cal.2d 722, 729 [31 Cal.Rptr. 225, 382 P.2d 33] [quoting People v. Carmen (1951) 36 Cal.2d 768, 772-773 (228 P.2d 281)].) It follows that the evidence of defendant’s unconsciousness in the present case was “deserving of consideration” upon a material issue. (People v. Castillo (1969) 70 Cal.2d 264, 270 [74 Cal.Rptr. 385, 449 P.2d 449]; People v. Modesto, supra; People v. Carmen, supra.)

Defendant did not request instructions upon unconsciousness; as vlfe have seen, his original request therefor was “withdrawn.” But a trial court is under a duty to instruct upon diminished capacity, in the absence of a request and upon its own motion, where the evidence so indicates. (People v. Henderson (1963) 60 Cal.2d 482, 490-491 [35 Cal.Rptr. 77, 386 P.2d 677]; People v. Stines (1969) 2 Cal.App.3d 970, 977 [82 Cal.Rptr. 850].) The difference between the two states—of diminished capacity and unconsciousness—is one of degree only: where the former provides a “partial defense” by negating a specific mental state essential to a particular crime, the latter is a “complete defense” because it negates capacity to commit any crime at all. (See People v. Gorshen (1959) 51 Cal.2d 716 at p. 727 [336 P.2d 492]; People v. Conley (1966) 64 Cal.2d 310, 319 [49 Cal.Rptr. 815, 411 P.2d 911].) Moreover, evidence of both states is not antithetical; jury instructions on the effect of both will be required where the evidence supports a finding of either. (See People v. Mosher, supra, 1 Cal.3d 379 at p. 391; People v. Anderson (1965) 63 Cal.2d 351, 355-356 [46 Cal.Rptr. 863, 406 P.2d 43].) We hold, therefore, that the trial court should have given appropriate unconsciousness instructions upon its own motion in the present case, and that its omission to do so was prejudicial error. (See People v. Mosher, *378supra; People v. Coogler, supra, 71 Cal.2d 153 at p. 169; People v. Moore, supra, 5 Cal.App.3d 486 at p. 492.)

The error was prejudicial per se because the omission operated to deprive defendant of his “constitutional right to have the jury determine every material issue presented by the evidence.” (People v. Mosher, supra, 1 Cal.3d 379 at p. 391; (People v. Modesto, supra, 59 Cal.2d 722 at pp. 730-731.) Actual prejudice, moreover, is perceptible in the present case. The voluntary manslaughter verdict indicates the jury’s decision that defendant shot Officer Frey, but that the jurors found (1) provocation by the officer or (2) dimished capacity on defendant’s part, or both. As defendant alone testified to both events, it appears that the jury believed him as to either or both. But, if they fully believed his testimony with respect to his asserted unconsciousness, they had been given no basis upon which to acquit him if they found it to be true. (See People v. Coogler, supra, 71 Cal.2d 153 at p. 169; People v. Moore, supra, 5 Cal.App.3d 486 at p. 492.) Defense counsel, in fact, argued to the jury defendant’s, and Dr. Diamond’s testimony on this subject. Absent instructions upon the legal effect of unconsciousness as a complete defense, the argument was necessarily limited and essentially ineffective. It further appears that the jury gave some thought at least, to acquitting defendant upon a finding of justifiable homicide.13 Under these circumstances, it is “reasonably probable” that a result more favorable to him—i.e., a verdict acquitting him of the homicide, based upon unconsciousness as a complete defense—would have been reached if the omitted instruction had been given. (See People v. Watson (1956) 46 Cal.2d 818, 836 [299 P.2d 243].)

The Question of Invited Error

As defendant’s point on the omission of unconsciousness instructions is thus valid on its merits, the question is whether he is precluded from as-*379setting it on appeal because his original request for such instructions was “withdrawn.” He contends in effect that he withdrew his request for CALJIC 71-C and 71-D only because the trial court forced him to choose between them and a Wells-Gorshen instruction on dimished capacity. (People v. Wells (1949) 33 Cal.2d 330 [202 P.2d 53]; People v. Gorshen, supra, 51 Cal.2d 716.) The trial court denied this claim when defense counsel asserted it on motion for new trial, nevertheless, the judge’s remarks at trial suggest that he (the judge) thought the jury should be given instructions on diminished capacity or unconsciousness, but not upon both.14

If the trial court entertained this view at the time of its remarks, it was in error: the defenses of diminished capacity and unconsciousness were “entirely separate,” and neither incompatible nor mutually exclusive, under the evidence. (See People v. Baker, supra, 42 Cal.2d 550 at p. 575 [268 P.2d 705]; People v. Mosher, supra, 1 Cal.3d 379 at p. 391; People v. Anderson, supra, 63 Cal.2d 351 at p. 356.) In any event, while the deficient record15 does not clearly substantiate counsel’s claim that the trial court forced him to a choice, it does not wholly refute him, either; and it tends to explain the court’s failure to instruct upon both defenses, upon its own motion, whether counsel correctly understood the situation or not.

A similar situation occurred, and was considered on appeal in light of the “invited error” concept, in People v. Graham, supra, 71 Cal.2d 303. In Graham, defense counsel had openly consented to the trial court’s omission of a proper instruction and giving an erroneous one. (Id., pp. 317-318.) The Supreme Court first posed the question in terms of “whether the trial court’s affirmative duty to instruct the jury on its own motion on the general principles of law relevant to the issues of the case can be nullified by waiver of defense counsel” (id., pp. 317-318 (italics added)), and cited People v. Phillips (1966) 64 Cal.2d 574, 580-581 [fn. 4], [51 Cal.Rptr. 225, 414 P.2d 353] to the effect that such “waiver” foreclosed *380complaint on appeal only where “the record indicated a ‘deliberate’ or ‘expressed’ tactical decision by counsel to forego a particular instruction which the court is otherwise obliged to render to the jury.” (People v. Graham, supra, at p. 318 (italics in the original).)

The Graham court went on to hold that “invited error” will not originate, so as to foreclose complaint on appeal, by reason of counsel’s neglect or mistake: “[Ojnly if counsel expresses a deliberate tactical purpose in suggesting, resisting, or acceding to an instruction, do we deem it to nullify the trial court’s obligation to instruct in the cause.” (People v. Graham, supra, 71 Cal.2d 303 at p. 319 (italics added).) This rule applies with equal effect in the present case, where defense counsel’s asserted “waiver” consisted of failing to press for instructions upon unconsciousness, and the Graham court said as much: “This formulation correctly resolves the competing considerations of the underlying policies relevant to the problem. On the one hand, the attorney should exercise control over his case and bear responsibility for tactical decisions reached in the course of his representation. On the other hand, the Legislature has indicated that instructions which affect the substantial rights of a defendant should be subject to review, even though his counsel, through neglect or mistake, has failed to object to them. Indeed, this court has held that a trial judge must on his own motion fully and correctly instruct the jury on general principles of law, regardless of the failure of defense counsel to offer such instructions or to object to their omission.” (Id., at pp. 319-320 [italics added].)

The self-defense instructions originally requested by defendant (CAL-JIC 322 and 322-A) were wholly inconsistent with his testimony that he he did not kill Officer Frey or shoot Officer Heanes. Accordingly, we can discern a “deliberate tactical purpose” in his counsel’s withdrawing the request for them. Defendant’s denial of the shootings, however, went no further than his own conscious recollections as recited in his testimony; the denial was not inconsistent with the hypothesis that he fired a gun while—and not before—he was in a state of “unconsciousness” as such state has previously been defined herein. Against the substantial evidence that it was he who shot Officer Frey, the instructions he requested on diminished capacity afforded him partial defenses at best. As only instructions upon unconsciousness offered a complete defense (People v. Wilson, supra, 66 Cal.2d 749 at p. 764; People v. Mosher, supra, 1 Cal.3d 379 at p. 391), his counsel’s “withdrawal” of them, or the failure to press for them, is irreconcilable with “deliberate *381tactical purpose” on counsel’s part. (Cf. People v. Phillips, supra, 64 Cal.2d 574 at pp. 580-581 [fn. 4 and cases cited].)

The “withdrawal” of the critical instructions—to the extent that the event appears16—can perhaps be ascribed to “neglect or mistake” (People v. Graham, supra, 71 Cal.2d 303 at p. 319), or “ignorance or inadvertence” (id., at p. 320) on the part of defense counsel. Whatever the reason for it, though, no “deliberate tactical purpose” appears and we can conceive of none. Under these circumstances, the “invited error” doctrine does not foreclose defendant from asserting his point on the appeal. (Id., at p. 319.) Since we have sustained the point on its merits, the judgment must be reversed.

We also sustain certain other claims of trial error advanced by defendant on the appeal. As the error in the instructions alone requires reversal, we need assess none of the other errors in terms of prejudicial effect. Some of them warrant discussion although they will not recur; others require it because of the prospect of a retrial. They relate to (1) an extrajudicial statement given to the police by the witness Henry Grier, (2) the grand jury testimony of Dell Ross concerning the kidnaping charged in count Three of the indictment, and (3) defendant’s prior felony conviction.

Grier’s Extrajudicial Statement

Henry Grier’s eyewitness account of the shooting affray (summarized supra) was the only direct trial evidence that defendant was the person who fatally shot Officer Frey; Grier’s in-court identification of defendant was positive in this respect. He had given a tape-recorded statement to the Oakland police, on the morning of the shootings and less than two hours afterward. As recited in the written transcript of the October 28 statement, his narrative version of the shooting episode did not materially vary from that given in his trial testimony. In the statement as transcribed, however, he described Officer Frey’s assailant as “very short . . . sort of pee-wee type fellow ... no more [than] five feet” in height, weighing “125 pounds” and wearing a dark shirt and light jacket. Grier testified at the trial that Frey’s assailant was of “medium height and build” (consistent with the physical measurements of defendant, who is 5 feet 10 inches tall and weighs 165 pounds) and wore a light shirt and dark jacket. Em*382phasizing these discrepancies in cross-examining Grier, defense counsel made extensive use of the October 28 transcript to impeach the witness’ in-court identification of defendant. Counsel also read the full transcript to the jury. The copy used for these purposes, as made available to the defense by the prosecution at the time of trial, showed the following question put to Grier by the police on the morning of the shootings, and his answer thereto:

“Q” [By the interrogating police officer] About how old was [Officer Frey’s assailant]?

“A. I couldn’t say because I only had my lights on, I couldn’t—I did get a clear picture, clear view of his face but—because he had his head kind of down facing the headlights of the coach [Grier’s ÁC Transit bus] and I couldn’t get a good look—” (Italics added.)

Arguing to the jury, defense counsel cited the passage of the transcript wherein Grier had said he “couldn’t get a good look,” but omitted any reference to his statement that he “did get a clear picture, clear view” of the assailant’s face. Responding in his closing argument, the prosecutor repeatedly reminded the jury of the latter statement. During its deliberations, the jury asked to see a copy of the transcript. Defense counsel, having mutilated his copy during his jury argument, requested another copy from the prosecution. According to the new copy he received, Grier had said, in the above-quoted context of the October 28 statement, that “I didn’t get a clear picture, clear view of his face ...” (Italics added.)

The defense immediately moved to reopen the case so that the jury could be apprised of newly discovered evidence. The court denied the motion. Having then obtained the original October 28 police recording of Grier’s statement, the defense again moved to reopen. This time, after hearing a playback of the recording, the court found that Grier had indeed said “didn’t” in the context quoted above. The judge again refused to reopen, but stated that some action should be taken to provide the jury with a corrected version of the Grier statement. The court thereupon ordered that a “correction” be made in the written transcript, and that a corrected copy of the document be “sent to the Jury just in an ordinary manner without any comment or instructions.” The transcript was sent to the jury with the word “did” corrected to read “didn’t,” but without explanation or notice of the change.

Defendant contends that the trial court abused its discretion in refusing to reopen the case. The Attorney General’s only argument is to the effect that defendant cannot now complain because his attorney approved the procedure followed by the trial court in sending the corrected transcript to the jury. Defense counsel did indicate his approval of the pro*383cedure when the trial court proposed it, but this was after defendant’s first motion to reopen had been denied and the court had indicated its intention to deny the second. At that point, counsel had the choice of approving the procedure or having no correction sent to the jury at all. Under the circumstances, he cannot be said to have waived the right to challenge the court’s denial of his motions to reopen.

The trial court clearly had discretion to order the case reopened (Pen. Code §§ 1093, 1094; People v. Berryman (1936) 6 Cal.2d 331, 338-339 [57 P.2d 136]; People v. Richardson (1961) 192 Cal.App.2d 166, 169 [13 Cal.Rptr. 321]), even after the jury deliberations had begun (People v. Christensen (1890) 85 Cal. 568, 570 [24 P. 888], See Stoumen v. Munro (1963) 219 Cal.App.2d 302, 319 [33 Cal.Rptr. 305]; Annot., 87 ALR2d 849, 851 et seq.) Factors to be considered in reviewing the exercise of such discretion include the stage the proceedings had reached when the motion was made (see People v. Carter (1957) 48 Cal.2d 737, 757 [312 P.2d 665]), the diligence shown by the moving party in discovering the new evidence (Fernandez v. United States (9th Cir. 1964) 329 F.2d 899, 903), the prospect that the jury would accord it undue emphasis (Eason v. United States (9th Cir. 1960) 281 F.2d 818, 821-822, and the significance of the evidence. (People v. Carter, supra, at p. 755.)

Reopening—and its conceivably attendant consequences in terms of further proof, argument and instructions—would have been inconvenient because of the stage of the proceedings at which defendant moved, but it was neither impossible nor unreasonable. (See People v. Carter, supra, 48 Cal.2d 737 at p. 757; Witkin, Cal. Criminal Procedure (1963) § 434, pp. 435-436 and cases cited.) Reopening was not precluded by any lack of diligence on the part of the defense,17 and the trial court could have minimized the possibility that the jury would overemphasize the newly discovered evidence.

Whether the new evidence—i.e., the single word change required and made in the transcript of Grier’s pretrial statement—was vital and material is arguable either way. Still, Grier was the only witness who positively identified defendant as Officer Frey’s assailant. Whether he “did” or “didn’t” see the assailant’s face was material, especially in light of the *384discrepancies in his separate descriptions of the person he claimed to have seen shooting Officer Frey. The prosecution had vigorously emphasized the word “did” in defending the credibility of Grier’s in-court indentification of defendant. The latter was entitled to have the jury consider the possibility, however remote, that someone other than he (e.g., Gene McKinney, whose role in the shooting episode is obscure, under the evidence, to the point of mystery) had engaged in the fatal scuffle with the officer. The jury had indicated its interest in these matters by requesting a copy of the transcript of Grier’s pretrial statement. Under all the circumstances, we conclude that the trial court abused its discretion in denying defendant’s motions to reopen the case.

The Dell Ross Grand Jury Testimony

Before the grand jury which produced the indictment charging defendant, in count Three, with kidnaping Dell Ross on October 28, 1967, Ross testified in pertinent part as follows: Sitting in his parked automobile near Seventh and Willow Streets on that date, he heard several gunshots. Two men (one of them defendant, whom Ross identified to the grand jury from a photograph) entered his car. Defendant ordered him, at gunpoint, to drive the pair to a specified street comer in Oakland. Ross complied. While in his car, both men made several statements, quoted by Ross to the grand jury, which implicated defendant in the shooting episode and were highly damaging to his defense in the present prosecution.

When called by the People as a trial witness, and upon the advice of counsel (who appeared with him) Ross pleaded self-incrimination and refused to answer any questions concerning the morning of October 28, 1967. At the request of the prosecution and pursuant to Penal Code section 1324, the trial court granted him immunity and ordered him to testify. Although Ross continued to refuse upon the ground of self-incrimination, he soon indicated that he did not remember what happened on October 28 or testifying to the grand jury. Upon this basis, the prosecutor showed him a copy of the transcript of his grand jury testimony and asked whether it refreshed his memory. When Ross said that he could not read, and over defense objections, the prosecutor then read all his grand jury testimony to the trial jury.

The trial court instmcted the jury that the grand jury testimony, and the defense tape recording, were admitted for impeachment only and not for the truth of the matters asserted in either. Several trial days later, upon motion by the defense, the trial court ordered stricken from the record “the entire testimony of . . . [Dell Ross] . . . , and all questions asked of and answers given by said witness, including papers and record*385ings and all statements heretofore made by any counsel, or by the Court, in connection with said witness”; instructed the jury to disregard such evidence; and entered a verdict of acquittal on the kidnaping charge for the stated reason that “the evidence now before the Court is insufficient to sustain a conviction of such offense.”

In light of several considerations (the trial court’s order striking the Ross testimony to the grand jury, its admonition to the trial jury to disregard it, its order acquitting defendant of the Ross kidnaping, and the degree of the jury’s verdict on the homicide charge), it is questionable whether the reading of the grand jury testimony was prejudicial error. It was, however, error which should not recur if defendant is retried.18 Because of Ross’s inability or refusal to recall his testimony to the grand jury, the defense had no opportunity to cross-examine him concerning that testimony. The reading thereof to the trial jury, consequently, operated to violate defendant’s Sixth Amendment right of confrontation. (U. S. Const., 6th Amend.; Douglas v. Alabama (1964) 380 U.S. 415, 419-420 [13 L.Ed.2d 934, 937-938, 85 S.Ct. 1074]; see California v. Green (1970) 399 U.S. 149 [26 L.Ed.2d 489, 90 S.Ct. 1930].) Nor can the action be justified as impeachment. A party’s right to impeach his own witness (Evid. Code, §§ 785, 780 [subd. (h)], 769, 770) is not available where, as here, the witness has not testified against the impeaching party at all: “there is nothing to counteract,” and the prior statement emerges as substantive evidence of the facts asserted in it. (People v. Newson (1951) 37 Cal.2d 34, 41 [230 P.2d 618].)

*386 The Prior Felony Conviction

As charged in the indictment and found by the jury, defendant was convicted of a felony (assault with a deadly weapon) in 1964. He represented himself at the 1964 trial. The conviction was affirmed by this court in an unpublished decision filed in 1965' (People v. Newton (1965) 1 Crim. 4908 [certified for nonpublication]); the Supreme Court denied defendant’s petition for hearing. During jury voir dire in the present prosecution, defendant moved to strike the prior conviction from the indictment, and for a protective order forbidding its “mention” at the murder trial, upon the Sixth Amendment ground that his waiver of counsel in the 1964 proceedings had been ineffective. The trial court read into the record the full appellate court decision in which the prior conviction was affirmed in 1965; stated that the appellate court had therein considered all of defendant’s-current contentions; and denied his motion without an evidentiary hearing.

Where a prior conviction is constitutionally invalid because the accused was deprived of his Sixth Amendment right to counsel or did not effectively waive it, utilization of the conviction in a subsequent prosecution to support his guilt, enhance his punishment, or impeach his testimonial credibility, is constitutional error. (Burgett v. Texas (1967) 389 U.S. 109, 114-116 [19 L.Ed.2d 319, 324-326, 88 S.Ct. 258]; People v. Coffey (1967) 67 Cal.2d 204, 218-219 [60 Cal.Rptr. 457, 430 P.2d 15].) When he raises the issue in the subsequent prosecution by moving to strike the prior or by denying it (upon constitutional grounds in either instance), the trial court must hold a hearing outside the presence of the jury and make a relevant finding based upon evidence there presented. {People v. Coffey, supra, at pp. 217-218.) The required hearing must be conducted even if the issue arises during the trial, so long as the objection is asserted before the case is submitted to the jury. (People v. Curtis (1969) 70 Cal.2d 347, 359-361 [74 Cal.Rptr. 713, 450 P.2d 33].)

The People contend that defendant’s motion to strike was invalid on procedural and formal grounds. We need not here set forth the details of the motion as challenged by the Attorney General in this regard; they are intricate, and are unlikely to recur if defendant again mounts a constitutional attack upon the 1964 conviction. It suffices to say that we reject the Attorney General’s procedural and formal objections to the motion, and that, fairly read with the declaration by counsel which was filed in support thereof, the motion unmistakably advanced the claim that the 1964 trial court had permitted defendant to represent himself at the assault trial without inquiring into his ability to do so. Recent decisions estab*387lish that such inquiry is required before a waiver of counsel can be accepted by a trial court. (E.g., People v. Carter (1967) 66 Cal.2d 666, 672 [58 Cal.Rptr. 614, 427 P.2d 214]; People v. Armstrong (1969) 274 Cal.App.2d 297, 303 [79 Cal.Rptr. 223].) While defendant’s motion and its supporting declaration were drafted inartfully and in obvious haste, they presented a reasonably “clear allegation’’ by defendant “to the effect that, in the proceedings leading to the prior conviction under attack, he neither was represented by counsel nor waived the right to be so represented.” (Original italics.) (People v. Coffey, supra, 67 Cal.2d 204 at p. 215 [quoting People v. Merriam (1967) 66 Cal.2d 390, 397 (58 Cal.Rptr. 1, 426 P.2d 161)].)

The People also argue that defendant’s Sixth Amendment point, as addressed to the 1964 conviction, was resolved against him on the 1965 appeal. We disagree: the 1965 decision noted that he had waived counsel by insisting upon representing himself at the assault trial, but the point now advanced—that his waiver of counsel was ineffective for lack of an appropriate inquiry by the trial court in 1964—was neither raised nor resolved on the former appeal. As the right to assistance of counsel at the former trial “applies retrospectively without regard to time” (People v. Coffey, supra, 67 Cal.2d 204 at p. 214) for purposes of the present case, the trial court erred in failing to conduct an evidentiary hearing upon defendant’s motion to strike. (Id., at pp. 214-218.)

In the motion, defendant also attacked the prior conviction upon the Fifth Amendment ground that the 1964 trial court permitted him to testify (he being unrepresented by counsel) without advising him of his right not to do so. (See People v. Wells (1968) 261 Cal.App.2d 468, 481 [68 Cal.Rptr. 400]; People v. Glaser (1965) 238 Cal.App.2d 819, 828-829 [48 Cal.Rptr. 427].) Because of the inadequacy of defendant’s showing, on the motion, that he was unaware of his right not to testify at the 1964 trial (see People v. Glaser, supra, at pp. 832-833), we perceive no error in the trial court’s denial of his motion with respect to his Fifth Amendment point. (We do not hold as the law of the case that he is precluded from asserting the point again. The problem may not present itself; a ruling by the trial court on his Sixth Amendment point may render it moot.)

Defendant has made certain other contentions which warrant discussion because of the prospect that his prosecution will continue. First among these are his arguments challenging the validity of his indictment by the grand jury and the manner in which the trial jury was selected. (He raised both questions with pretrial motions, which the trial court denied.)

*388 The Validity of Defendant’s Indictment

Contrary to defendant’s first several contentions relative to his indictment by the grand jury, we hold as follows: (1) The laws of this state which permit a prosecutor to proceed against an accused by way of either information or grand jury indictment, at the prosecutor’s option (Cal. Const., art. I, § 8; Pen. Code, §§ 682, 737), are constitutional. (People v. Flores (1969) 276 Cal.App.2d 61, 65-66 [81 Cal.Rptr. 197].) (2) Defendant was not, by reason of the grand jury proceedings which produced his indictment, unconstitutionally denied the procedural rights which would have been available to him at a preliminary examination. (People v. Flores, supra.) (3) The California statutes controlling the selection of grand jurors (Pen. Code, § 894 et seq.) are constitutional. (Turner v. Fouche (1970) 396 U.S. 346, 353-355 [24 L.Ed.2d 567, 575-576, 90 S.Ct. 532]; Carter v. Jury Commission (1970) 396 U.S. 320, 329-337 [24 L.Ed.2d 549, 557-561, 90 S.Ct. 518]; Smith v. Texas (1940) 311 U.S. 128, 130-131 [85 L.Ed. 84, 86-87, 61 S.Ct. 164].)

Grand Jury Selection

Defendant next contends that the above-cited grand jury selection statutes, as applied in Alameda County, resulted in unconstitutional discrimination against young persons, low income groups and black persons.19 According to the evidence produced upon his pretrial motion in this regard, the membership of the grand jury which indicted him was drawn from among persons who had been nominated to the grand jury by each of the county’s 20 superior court judges. (Pen. Code, § 903.4.) The presiding judge of the superior court (for 1967) testified that he had selected his three nominees from among his personal acquaintances. There was no evidence of the selection practices followed by other judges in connection with the 1967, or any other, grand jury.

The constitutional standards controlling the selection of grand jurors are the same as for petit jurors. (Pierre v. Lousiana (1939) 306 U.S. 354, 362 [83 L.Ed. 757, 762, 59 S.Ct. 536].) They must be selected in a manner which does not systematically exclude, or substantially underrepresent, the members of any identifiable group in the community. (Whitus v. Georgia (1967) 385 U.S. 545, 548-552 [17 L.Ed.2d 599, 602605, 87 S.Ct. 643] Hernandez v. Texas (1954) 347 U.S. 475, 476-478 *389[98 L.Ed. 866, 869-870, 74 S.Ct. 667]; People v. White (1954) 43 Cal.2d 740, 749-753 [278 P.2d 9]). Such “purposeful discrimination,” however, “may not be assumed or merely asserted”; it must be proved (Swain v. Alabama (1965) 380 U.S. 202, 205 [13 L.Ed.2d 759, 764, 85 S.Ct. 824]), and defendant bore the burden of making a prima facie case that it existed here. (Whitus v. Georgia, supra, at p. 550 [17 L.Ed.2d at pp. 603-604].) He presented to the trial court little or no evidence concerning the racial composition of any Alameda County grand jury or grand jury panel. He showed a breakdown of certain grand jurors according to their occupations, but this does not demonstrate “purposeful discrimination” against poor people or anyone else. (See Fay v. New York (1947) 332 U.S. 261, 273-277 [91 L.Ed. 2043, 2052-2054, 67 S.Ct. 1613].) There was some evidence to the effect that all or most of the members of the 1967 grand jury (which indicted him) were middle-aged persons; again, however, systematic exclusion of the young is not shown. Defendant having failed to make a prima facie case that the 1967 grand jury was constitutionally infirm in any respect pertaining to its selection, he cannot challenge the validity of the indictment upon the ground asserted.

Petit Jury Selection

Defendant contends that the trial jury panel, and the jury itself, were unconstitutionally selected. While we need not consider his arguments relating to administrative excuses from jury service, challenges for cause, and peremptory challenges, we discuss those points which will be relevant in the event of retrial. The first is addressed to the fact that the names of the prospective trial jurors were drawn from the latest Alameda County voter registration lists, at random but from no other source.

On defendant’s pretrial motion attacking the venire, his witnesses testified that the selection of jurors exclusively from voter lists results in underrepresentation of poor persons and black persons on juries, because such people are less likely to be registered voters. According to defendant’s statistics, the voter registration rate in the predominantly black-populated areas of West Oakland, South Oakland and South Berkeley (all of which are in Alameda County) is 64.7 percent, whereas the countywide rate is 82 percent. One of his witnesses testified that black persons constitute about 7.5 percent of jury panels when voter registration lists are the sole source of prospective jurors’ names. Black persons constitute 12.4 percent of Alameda County’s population.

As registration to vote is not a condition of eligibility for jury service in this state (see Code Civ. Proc., §§ 198, 199), the county’s discretion to use voter registration lists as the source of jurors is subject to the constitutional requirement that juries must reasonably reflect a cross-*390section of the community. (Smith v. Texas, supra, 311 U.S. 128 at p. 130 [85 L.Ed. 84 at p. 86]; People v. White, supra, 43 Cal.2d 740 at p. 749.) While each jury roll or venire need not be a perfect mirror of the community (Swain v. Alabama, supra, 380 U.S. 202 at p. 208 [13 L.Ed. 2d 759 at p. 766]; People v. White, supra), any. substantial disparity, over a period of time, between a group’s percentage thereon and its percentage in the eligible population is prima facie evidence of discrimination, regardless of the source of jurors, and shifts the burden to the prosecution to justify the discrepancy. (Turner v. Fouche, supra, 396 U.S. 346 at p. 360 [24 L.Ed.2d 567 at p. 579]; Whitus v. Georgia, supra, 385 U.S. 545 at pp. 550-552 [17 L.Ed.2d 599 at pp. 603-605].) The disparity claimed in the present case, however (7.5 percent versus 12.4 percent) is not so substantial as to produce this result. (Swain v. Alabama, supra, at pp. 205, 209 [13 L.Ed.2d at pp. 764, 766] (10-15 percent vs. 26 percent). Compare Turner v. Fouche, supra (37 percent vs. 60 percent); Sims v. Georgia (1967) 389 U.S. 404, 407 [19 L.Ed.2d 634, 637, 88 S.Ct. 523] (4.7-9.8 percent vs. 24.4 percent); Whitus v. Georgia, supra, 385 U.S. 545, 550-552 [17 L.Ed.2d 599, 603-605] (7.8-9.1 percent vs. 27.1 percent). See Kuhn, Jury Discrimination (1968) 41 So.Cal.L.Rev. 235, 251-257 and data cited passim.)

The record does not sustain defendant’s contention that black persons were underrepresented on the trial jury panel; of the 160 prospective jurors examined, about 13 percent were black persons,20 He presented no evidence of the economic status of any of the panel members to support his charge that poor persons were excluded from, or substantially underrepresented on, the panel. On the showing made, we cannot conclude that unconstitutional discrimination, on racial or economic grounds, occurred in the selection of prospective jurors.

We also reject defendant’s argument that, because of the nature of the case (involving a fatal altercation between a black defendant and white police officers), he was entitled to have at least one resident of West Oakland (described as a “black ghetto”) serve on his trial jury.21 “Of course, these premises misconceive the scope of the right to an impartially selected jury assured by the Fourteenth Amendment. That right does not entitle one accused of crime to a jury tailored to the cir*391cumstances of the particular case, whether relating to the sex or other condition of the defendant, or to the nature of the charges to be tried. It requires only that the jury be indiscriminately drawn from among those eligible in the community for jury service, untrammelled by any arbitrary and systematic exclusions. (Citation.)” Hoyt v. Florida (1961) 368 U.S. 57, 59 [7 L.Ed.2d 118, 120-121, 82 S.Ct. 159].)

Certain claims of trial error should also be mentioned. Contrary to defendant’s contention as to each point, we hold as follows: (1) The trial court did not err in instructing the jury on flight and motive. The evidence supported the instructions given, and defendant’s proposed modifications of the standard instructions on these subjects were properly refused because they emphasized specific' evidence. (People v. Hughes (1951) 107 Cal.App.2d 487, 494 [237 P.2d 64]; Witkin, Cal. Criminal Procedure, op. cit., supra, § 477, pp. 484-485.) (2) Defendant’s requested instruction on unlawful detention was also properly refused. Unlawful detention by a police officer does not justify unlawful resistance thereto. (Pen. Code, § 834a; People v. Curtis (1969) 70 Cal.2d 347, 352 [74 Cal.Rptr. 713, 450 P.2d 33].)

(3) The trial court did not err in excluding the proffered testimony of defense witnesses Burton, Quinones, Daniels, Harris and Brown. Burton’s testimony, offered to prove past mistreatment of black persons by Officer Frey (a subject upon which the trial court gave the defense considerable latitude), was not probative on that subject and was cumulative to the testimony of other defense witnesses. Quinones’ testimony would have been to the effect that police officers harassed de-. fendant at the hospital after the shootings; that of the other three, that the prosecution had offered to pay for information concerning this case. Neither subject was relevant.

(4) The trial court did not unduly restrict the voir dire of prospective jurors concerning their racial attitudes. The record shows that the defense was given full latitude in asking questions pertaining to possible racial bias and their knowledge and viewpoints on such matters as the “Black Panther Party,” fair housing, “black power” and various political and other organizations.

Other points raised on the appeal need not be discussed.

The judgment of conviction is reversed.

Devine, P. J., and Christian, J., concurred.

On June 26, 1970, the opinion was modified to read as printed above. Respondent’s petition for a hearing by the Supreme Court was denied July 29, 1970. McComb, J., was of the opinion that the petition should be granted.

Orth, J.,

delivered the opinion of the Court. Eldridge, J., filed an opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part at page 354 infra.

Joyce Lillian Pope was found guilty by the court in the Circuit Court for Montgomery County under the 3rd and 5th *312counts of a nine count indictment, no. 18666. The 3rd count charged child abuse, presenting that “on or about April 11, 1976, ... while having the temporary care, custody and responsibility for the supervision of Demiko Lee Norris, a minor child under the age of eighteen years [she] did unlawfully and feloniously cause abuse of said minor child in violation of Article 27, Section 35A of the Annotated Code of Maryland....” The 5th count charged misprision of felony under the common law, alleging that on the same date she “did unlawfully and wilfully conceal and fail to disclose a felony to wit: the murder of Demiko Lee Norris committed by Melissa Vera Norris on April 11, 1976, having actual knowledge of the commission of the felony and the identity of the felon, with the intent to obstruct and hinder the due • course of justice and to cause the felon to escape unpunished....” 1

On direct appeal the Court of Special Appeals reversed the judgment entered on the child abuse conviction and affirmed the judgment entered on the misprision of felony conviction.2 Pope v. State, 38 Md. App. 520, 382 A. 2d 880 (1978). We granted Pope’s petition and the State’s cross-petition for a writ of certiorari. We affirm the judgment of the Court of Special Appeals with respect to the 3rd count, child abuse. We reverse the judgment of the Court of Special Appeals with *313respect to the 5th count, misprision of felony. We remand to that court with direction to remand to the Circuit Court for Montgomery County for the entry of a judgment of acquittal on the third count and dismissal of the fifth count.

ISSUES FOE DECISION

I. The sufficiency of the evidence to sustain the conviction of Pope of the crime of child abuse as (1) a principal in the first degree, or (2) a principal in the second degree.

II. The status in Maryland of the crime of misprision of felony.

THE EVIDENCE

The evidence adduced at the trial3 established that Demiko Lee Norris, three months old, died as a result of physical injuries inflicted by his mother, Melissa Vera Norris.4 The abuse by the mother occurred over a period of several hours on a Sunday morning at Pope's home and in Pope’s presence. Pope’s involvement in the events leading to the child’s abuse and death began on the preceding Friday evening when she and Melissa, with the child, were driven home by Pope’s sister, Angela Lancaster, from a service held at the Christian Tabernacle Church. When they arrived at Melissa’s grandparents’ home, where Melissa was living, Melissa refused to enter the house, claiming that it was on fire, although in fact it was not. During the evening, Melissa had sporadically indicated mental distress. “She would at times seem caught up in a religious frenzy with a wild look about *314her, trying to pleach and declaring that she was God. She would as quickly resume her normal self without ever seeming to notice her personality transitions.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 531. Pope agreed to take Melissa and thé child into her home for the night because she did not want to put them “out on the street,” and Angela would not let them stay in her home. Melissa had no money and Pope and Angela bought food and diapers for the baby. That evening Pope cleaned and dried the baby and inquired of Melissa about a bad rash he had. Melissa slept in Pope’s bedroom. Pope kept the baby with her in the living room, telling Melissa: “[Y]ou can go to sleep ... I’ll be up, I’ll just stay up, I’ll watch the baby____” She explained in her testimony: “And I don’t know why it was just, just a funny feeling that I had, you know, and ever since the baby was there I just kept it close to me for some reason.” Pope fed the baby and fixed a bed for it in a dresser drawer. She stayed with the baby to care for him during the night because he was spitting up. She could not sleep while Melissa was there.

The next morning, awakened by the crying of the child, Pope fed him1. Throughout the day Melissa “changed back and forth.” When Melissa was “herself” she took care of her child. When Melissa thought she was God, Pope undertook the maternal duties. Pope watched the child “like it was my own,” because “I felt maybe [Melissa] could [hurt the child] when she confessed she was God____I felt close to the baby, maybe because, you know, I felt I haven’t had a baby for so long, you know, I enjoyed taking care of the baby and watching it.” At a baby shower Saturday evening at the home of Pope’s mother, Melissa again reverted to being God, looking wild, speaking loudly, preaching and giving orders. Melissa and the baby returned to Pope’s home. Melissa put the child in bed with her, but Pope thought it better that the child not remain there. She was afraid Melissa would roll over and “smother it to death.” She told Melissa: “I’ll just take the baby in [the living room]... I’ll watch it, I’ll get up and feed it... I don't mind.” The next morning, Sunday, at about 4:30 o’clock, Pope prepared the baby’s bottle and fed him. When Melissa got up, Pope suggested that she go back to bed. Melissa behaved *315normally for awhile. Then her “episodes of ‘changing to God’ became more pronounced. She stomped and gestured as she strode back and forth, putting crosses on doors and demanding the departure of the evil which she claimed to see. She kicked and banged at the door of [Pope’s] son, and fearful that by breaking in Melissa would frighten him, [Pope] unfastened the door to permit entry. Loudly exhorting Satan to leave the premises, Melissa ‘anointed’ [Pope’s] son with oil, placing some of the oil in the child’s mouth. She subsequently repeated the process with [Pope’s] daughter. When dressed, [Pope’s] children left the house expeditiously, lingering only long enough to embrace their mother.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 531.

During a lucid period, Melissa prepared to go to church. She got a tub of water to bathe the baby. What next occurred is graphically described in the opinion of the Court of Special Appeals:

“Then, from her suddenly changed voice and appearance, [Pope] knew Melissa had changed again to ‘God.’ Calling out that Satan had hidden in the body of her son, Melissa began to verbally exorcise that spirit and physically abuse the child by punching and poking him repeatedly about the stomach, chest and privates. After she undressed the child, that which ensued was hardly describable. In her religious frenzy of apparent exorcism, Melissa poked the child’s vitals and beat the child about the head. She reached her fingers down its throat, wiping mucus and blood on diapers at hand, and even lifted the child by inserting her hands in its mouth, and shook him like a rag.” Id.

Continuing to talk and stomp, Melissa began to squeeze the baby. Then, holding the child by the neck with one hand, she took him into the bathroom, acting like she did not know that Pope was present. When she first started this abuse, Melissa, in her “God voice,” called Pope and asked her: “Didn’t I give you eyes to see?” Pope noticed that Melissa’s finger nails were “real long,” and she said to Melissa: “[H]ow do you *316handle a baby with such long nails,” but Pope did nothing. She admitted that she knew at some point that Melissa was hurting the baby and was “fearful, amazed and shocked at the ‘unbelievable’ and ‘horrible’ thing that was happening.”

Melissa’s frenzy diminished. Angela came to the house to take them to church. Pope did not tell Angela what happened — “I could not get it out.” Angela asked her what was wrong, and Pope said: “[I]t’s Melissa, the baby....” She locked the door at Angela’s direction so Angela’s children would stay in the yard with Pope’s children. Angela wrapped the child in a towel, raised him over her head and prayed.

Pope, Melissa and Angela left with the child to go to church. At Melissa’s request they stopped by her grandfather’s house, arriving about 2:00 p.m. Pope told him the child was dead, but he did not believe her because all three were acting so strangely. He refused to take or look at the baby. The three women with the child went to Bel Pre Health Center, picked up another member of the Christian Tabernacle congregation, telling her that “God has a job for you to do,” and proceeded to the church. En route, they passed several hospitals, police stations and rescue squads. At the church, the child was given to, or taken by the Reverend Leon Hart, who handed him to Mother Dorothy King for her prayers. She discovered that the baby’s body was cool and sent for ambulance assistance. Police and rescue personnel arrived and determined that the child was dead. There was expert medical testimony that the child had died sometime during the period of fifteen minutes to several hours after it was injured. The medical expert expressed no opinion as to whether the child could have been successfully treated if the injury had been reported sooner.

The police questioned Melissa in Pope’s presence. Pope did not contradict Melissa’s denial of abusing the child. In fact, Pope, in response to inquiry by the police, said that the baby did not fall, and told them that she had not seen Melissa strike the baby. She explained this untruth in subsequent statements to the police: “[I]t was her body in the flesh, but it wasn’t her, because it was something else.”

Pope, Melissa and Angela attended the evening service at the church. Melissa reverted to God during the service and *317Reverend Hart restrained her and attempted to convince her that she was not Jesus Christ. Melissa refused to go to her grandfather’s home and returned home with Pope. The next morning Pope was again interviewed at the police station and wrote a full explanation of what had happened. She later made an oral statement which was recorded.

I

THE CRIME OF CHILD ABUSE

The Statute

The General Assembly first evidenced its concern with the mistreatment of children fifteen years ago when it added § 11A to Art. 27 of the Maryland Code,5 later codified as § 35A of that article,6 declaring an assault on a child to be a felony. The statute in its entirety provided:

“Any parent, adoptive parent or other person who has the permanent or temporary care or custody of a minor child under the age of fourteen years who maliciously beats, strikes, or otherwise mistreats such minor child to such degree as to require medical treatment for such child shall be guilty of a felony, and upon conviction shall be sentenced to not more than fifteen years in the Penitentiary.”

The Legislature’s increasing interest in child abuse is reflected in the amendment from time to time of the seminal statute.7 The result is a comprehensive scheme to fulfill the legislative intent and purpose, expressed in 1973,8 as “the protection of children who have been the subject of abuse by mandating the reporting of suspected abuse, by extending immunity to those who report in good faith, by requiring prompt investigations of such reports and by causing *318immediate, cooperative efforts by the responsible agencies on behalf of such children.” Md. Code (1957,1976 Repl. Vol.) Art. 27, § 35A. All of these were, of course, imposed over the felonious crime of child abuse. See subsections (a) through (j).

The Nature of Child Abuse

As we have seen, when the crime was first created by the General Assembly it comprised the malicious beating, striking or otherwise mistreating a child to such degree as to require medical treatment. We pointed out in State v. Fabritz, 276 Md. 416, 348 A. 2d 275 (1975), cert. denied, 425 U. S. 942 (1976), that by the terms of the enactment it did not reach acts “not constituting, in one form or another, an assault on a child.” Id. at 423. Acts 1973, ch. 835 repealed the “maliciously beats, strikes or otherwise mistreats” test of child abuse and substituted in its place a new and different measure of the offense. The 1973 • amendment added a definition subsection to § 35A. Subsection (b) 7 provided that whenever “abuse” was used in § 35A, it shall mean “any physical injury or injuries sustained by a child as a result of cruel or inhumane treatment or as a result of malicious act or acts....” Acts 1974, ch. 554 designated this meaning as item (A) of 11 7 and expanded the definition of child abuse by adding item (B) so as to include in the offense “any sexual abuse of a child, whether physical injuries are sustained or not.” The amendment also added 11 8 defining “sexual abuse” to mean “any act or acts involving sexual molestation or exploitation, including but not limited to incest, rape, carnal knowledge, sodomy or unnatural or perverted sexual practices on a child____” Acts 1977, ch. 290, substituted “or sexual offense in any degree” for “carnal knowledge” in 11 8.9

We considered the scope of item A, subsection (b) 7 in Fabritz. Applying the rules of statutory construction, 276 Md. *319at 421-423, we thought “it evident that the Legislature plainly intended to broaden the area of proscribed conduct punishable in child abuse cases.” Id. at 423-424. We said:

“Its use in the amended version of § 35A of the comprehensive phraseology ‘who causes abuse to’ a minor child, coupled with its broad two-pronged definition of the term ‘abuse,’ supports the view that the Legislature, by repealing the narrow measure of criminality in child abuse cases then provided in § 35A, and redefining the offense, undertook to effect a significant change of substance in the scope of the statute’s prohibitions. In making it an offense for a person having custody of a minor child to ‘cause’ the child to suffer a ‘physical injury,’ the Legislature did not require that the injury result from a physical assault upon the child or from any physical force initially applied by the accused individual; it provided instead, in a more encompassing manner, that the offense was committed if physical injury to the child resulted either from a course of conduct constituting ‘cruel or inhumane treatment’ or by ‘malicious act or acts.’ ” Id. at 424.

We found that the failure of the mother to seek or obtain any medical assistance for her child, although the need therefor was obviously compelling and urgent, caused the child to sustain bodily injury additional to and beyond that inflicted upon the child by reason of the original assault by another. The act of omission by the mother “constituted a cause of the further progression and worsening of the injuries which led to [the child’s] death; and that in these circumstances [the mother’s] treatment of [the child] was ‘cruel or inhumane’ within the meaning of the statute and as those terms are commonly understood.” Id. at 425-426. We therefore vacated the judgment of the Court of Special Appeals, which in Fabritz v. State, 24 Md. App. 708, 332 A. 2d 324 (1975), had *320reversed the judgment of the trial court entered upon-the conviction of the mother of child abuse.10

Responsibility for Abuse of a Child

In Fabritz we went no farther than to determine that the Legislature intended that the “cause” of an injury may include an act of omission so as to constitute cruel or inhumane treatment, in that case the failure of the mother to seek or obtain medical assistance for her child who had been abused by another. Fabritz did not go to the class of persons to whom the statutory proscription applies, as the accused there was a “parent,” the victim’s mother, expressly designated in the statute.

*321We have seen that the statute as originally enacted concerned “[a]ny parent, adoptive parent or other person, who has the permanent or temporary care or custody of a minor child____” Acts 1963, ch. 743. This has been once amended to bring within the ambit of the statute any person who has “responsibility for the supervision of a minor child.” Acts 1966, ch. 221. Thus, since 1 June 1966,

“[a]ny parent, adoptive parent or other person who has the permanent or temporary care or custody or responsibility for the supervision of a minor child under the age of eighteen years [11] who causes abuse to such minor child shall be guilty of a felony. ...” § 35A(a).

Persons subject to the statute are designated in those terms also in subsection (b) 7 (A) defining abuse and in subsection (b) 8 defining sexual abuse.

In Bowers v. State, 283 Md. 115, 389 A. 2d 341 (1978), we discussed the class of persons to whom § 35A applies, in rejecting the contention that the statute was vague and therefore constitutionally defective for the reason that it failed to define adequately that class. Bowers urged that the statute was too indefinite to inform a person who is not a parent or adoptive parent of a child whether he comes within the ambit of the statute. He argued that no one in such position is capable of ascertaining whether the statute is aimed only at persons who have been awarded custody by judicial decree or includes also those who may simply be caring for a child in place of the parent. We were of the view that the General Assembly intended that the statute apply to persons who stand in loco parentis to a child. We said: “Had the Legislature wished to narrow application of the child abuse law to those who had been awarded custody or control by court order, it could readily have done so in explicit language to that end.” Id. at 130. We observed that Bowers’ “own testimony amply established that he had assumed ‘the care or *322custody or responsibility for the supervision’ of his stepdaughter, and thus stood in loco parentis with respect to her.” Id.

Bowers’ challenge centered on the “temporary care or custody” provision of the statute. It does not follow from our holding that “permanent or temporary care or custody” is synonymous with “responsibility for the supervision of.” Such was clearly not the legislative intent, because, as we have seen, the latter provision was added by amendment three years after the former had been written into the law. There would have been no need to do so had the Legislature deemed the two provisions to have the same meaning.

The child abuse statute speaks in terms of a person who “has” responsibility for the supervision of a minor child. It does not prescribe how such responsibility attaches or what “responsibility” and “supervision” encompass. A doubt or ambiguity exists as to the exact reach of the statute’s provision with respect to “has responsibility for the supervision of,” justifying application of the principle that permits courts in such circumstances to ascertain and give effect to the real intention of the Legislature. See Fabritz at 423; Clerk v. Chesapeake Beach Park, 251 Md. 657, 663-664, 248 A. 2d 479 (1968); Domain v. Bosley, 242 Md. 1, 7, 217 A. 2d 555 (1966). Bowers equates “permanent or temporary care or custody” with “in loco parentis,” but “responsibility for the supervision of” is not bound by certain of the strictures required for one to stand in place of or instead of the parent. A person in loco parentis is “charged, factitiously, with a parent’s rights, duties, and responsibilities.” Black’s Law Dictionary (4th ed. 1951). “A person in loco parentis to a child is one who means to put himself in the situation of the lawful father [or mother] of the child with reference to the father’s [or mother’s] office and duty of making provision for the child. Or, as defined by Sir Wm. Grant, Master of the Rolls, a person in loco parentis is one, ‘assuming the parental character and discharging parental duties.’ Weatherby v. Dixon, 19 Ves. 412. . . . There must be some: indication, in some form, of an intention to establish it. It is a question of intention.” Von der Horst v. Von der Horst, 88 Md. 127, 130-131, 41 A. 124 (1898).

*323“The term ‘in loco parentis,’ according to its generally accepted common law meaning, refers to a person who has put himself in the situation of a lawful parent by assuming the obligations incident to the parental relation without going through the formalities necessary to legal adoption. It embodies the two ideas of assuming the parental status and discharging the parental duties. Niewiadomski v. United States, 159 P. 2d 683, 686 (6th Cir.), cert. denied, 331 U. S. 850 (1947).

“This relationship involves more than a duty to aid and assist, more than a feeling of kindness, affection or generosity. It arises only when one is willing to assume all the obligations and to receive all the benefits associated with one standing as a natural parent to a child.” Fuller v. Fuller, 247 A. 2d 767 (D.C. 1968), appeal denied, 418 F. 2d 1189 (1969).

A person may have the responsibility for the supervision of a minor child in the contemplation of § 35A although not standing in loco parentis to that child. “Responsibility” in its common and generally accepted meaning denotes “accountability,” and “supervision” emphasizes broad authority to oversee with the powers of direction and decision. See American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (1969); Webster’s Third New International Dictionary (1968). As in the case of care or custody of a minor child under the child abuse law, a judicial decree is not necessary to obtain responsibility for the supervision of a minor child under that statute. Had the Legislature wished to narrow application of that law to those who had been charged with responsibility for the supervision of a child by court order, it could readily have done so in explicit language to that end. See Bowers, 283 Md. at 130. Absent a court order or award by some appropriate proceeding pursuant to statutory authority, we think it to be self-evident that responsibility for supervision of a minor child may be obtained only upon the mutual consent, expressed or implied, by the one legally charged with the care of the child and by the one assuming the responsibility. In other words, a parent may not impose *324responsibility for the supervision of his or her minor child on a third person unless that person accepts the responsibility, and a third person may not assume such responsibility unless the parent grants it. So it is that a baby sitter temporarily has responsibility for the supervision of a child; the parents grant the responsibility for the period they are not at home, and the sitter accepts it. And it is by mutual consent that a school teacher has responsibility for the supervision of children in connection with his academic duties. On the other hand, once responsibility for the supervision of a minor child has been placed in a third person, it may be terminated unilaterally by a parent by resuming responsibility, expressly or by conduct. The consent of the third party in such circumstances is not required; he may not prevent return of responsibility to the parent. But, of course, the third person in whom responsibility has been placed is not free to relinquish that responsibility without the knowledge of the parent. For example, a sitter may not simply walk away in the absence of the parents and leave the children to their own devices.

Under the present state of our law, a person has no legal obligation to care for or look after the welfare of a stranger, adult or child.

“Generally one has no legal duty to aid another person in peril, even when that aid can be rendered without danger or inconvenience to himself.... A moral duty to take affirmative action is not enough to impose a legal duty to do so.” W. LaFave & A. Scott, Criminal Law 183 (1972).

See Clark & Marshall, A Treatise on the Law of Crimes § 10.02 (7th ed. 1967). The legal position is that “the need of one and the opportunity of another to be of assistance are not alone sufficient to give rise to a legal duty to take positive action.” R. Perkins, Criminal Law 594-595 (2d ed. 1969). Ordinarily, a person may stand by with impunity and watch another being murdered, raped, robbed, assaulted or otherwise unlawfully harmed. “He need not shout a warning to a blind man headed for a precipice or to an absentminded one walking into a gunpowder room with a lighted candle in *325hand. He need not pull a neighbor’s baby out of a pool of water or rescue an unconscious person stretched across the railroad tracks, though the baby is drowning, or the whistle of an approaching train is heard in the distance.” LaFave & Scott at 183. The General Assembly has enacted two “Good Samaritan” statutes which afford protection to one who assists another in certain circumstances. Those statutes, however, impose no requirement that assistance be rendered.12

In the face of this status of the law we cannot reasonably conclude that the Legislature, in bringing a person responsible for the supervision of a child within the ambit of the child abuse law, intended that such responsibility attach without the consent criteria we have set out. Were it otherwise, the consequences would go far beyond the legislative intent. For example, a person taking a lost child into his home to attempt to find its parents could be said to be responsible for that child’s supervision. Or a person who allows his neighbor’s children to play in his yard, keeping a watchful eye on their activities to prevent them from falling into harm, could be held responsible for the children’s supervision. Or a person performing functions of a maternal nature from concern for the welfare, comfort or health of a child, or protecting it from danger because of a sense of moral obligation, may come within the reach of the act. In none of these situations would there be an intent to grant or assume the responsibility contemplated by the child abusen statute, and it would be incongruous indeed to subject such persons to possible criminal prosecution.

*326 The Sufficiency of the Evidence

The trial court found Pope guilty of the crime of child abuse as a principal in the first degree, and alternatively, as a principal in the second degree. A principal in the first degree is the one who actually commits a crime, either by his own hand, or by an inanimate agency, or by an innocent human agent. A principal in the second degree is one who is actually or constructively present when a felony is committed, and who aids or abets in its commission. See Camphor v. State, 233 Md. 203, 205, 196 A. 2d 75 (1963); Thornton v. State, 232 Md. 542, 544, 194 A. 2d 617 (1963); Veney v. State, 225 Md. 237, 238, 170 A. 2d 171 (1961); Agresti v. State, 2 Md. App. 278, 280, 234 A. 2d 284 (1967); 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *34; Clark & Marshall, A Treatise on the Law of Crimes §§ 8.01-8.02 (7th ed. 1967); L. Hochheimer, Crimes and Criminal Procedure $$ 31-32 (1st ed. 1897); R.. Perkins. Criminal Law 656 and 658 (2d ed. 1969).13

In convicting Pope, the trial court was “satisfied beyond a reasonable doubt that under the doctrine of \Fahritz\ ..., [she] is a principal [in the first degree] and is guilty of child abuse.” It further held, however: “If this interpretation of Fabritz is in error, then [Pope] is guilty as a principal in the second degree.” On direct appeal, the Court of Special *327Appeals applied Maryland Rule 1086 and set aside the judgment. The rule provides that when a criminal case is tried without the intervention of a jury, the Court of Special Appeals shall review both the law and the evidence but “the judgment of the [trial] court will not be set aside on the evidence unless clearly erroneous and due regard will be given to the opportunity of the [trial] court to judge the credibility of the witnesses.” The appellate court’s function “is merely to decide whether there was sufficient evidence, or proper inferences from the evidence, from which the trier of fact could properly draw the conclusion of the [accused’s] guilt, beyond a reasonable doubt.” Brooks v. State, 277 Md. 155, 161-162, 353 A. 2d 217 (1976), and cases therein cited. The trial court, as the trier of facts, is not only the judge of the witness’s credibility, but is also the judge of the weight to be attached to the evidence. Id. Th.e Court of Special Appeals determined that the evidence was not legally sufficient to sustain the conviction of Pope either as a principal in the first degree or a principal in the second degree. The evidence was deficient with regard to her being a principal in the first degree in that it was not sufficient for the trier of fact to find beyond a reasonable doubt that she was within the class of persons subject to the prohibitions of the child abuse statute. Thus, the teaching of Fabritz regarding “causing abuse” was in no event applicable. Pope v. State, 38 Md. App. at 538. It was deficient with regard to her being a principal in the second degree because, despite her presence during the commission of the felony, it was not sufficient for the trier of fact to conclude that she aided and abetted the actual perpetrator. Therefore, the judgment of the trial court on the evidence was clearly erroneous and had to be set aside. Id. at 539-541.

As did the Court of Special Appeals, we find evidentiary insufficiency with respect to the conviction of Pope of child abuse, both as a principal in the first degree and as a principal in the second degree, so that the judgment of the trial court on the evidence was clearly erroneous. We, therefore, affirm the judgment of the Court of Special Appeals. We explain why we find that the evidence was legally insufficient.

*328 Principal in the First Degree

As we have indicated, a person may be convicted of the felony of child abuse created by § 35A as a principal in the first degree upon evidence legally sufficient to establish that the person

(1) was

(a) the parent of, or

(b) the adoptive parent of, or

(c) in loco parentis to, or

(d) responsible for the supervision of

a minor child under the age of eighteen years,

AND

(2) caused, by being in some manner accountable for, by act of commission or omission, abuse to the child in the form of

(a) physical injury or injuries sustained by the child as the result of

i) cruel or inhumane treatment, or

ii) malicious act or acts by such person,

or

(b) any act or acts by such person involving sexual molestation or exploitation whether or not physical injuries were sustained.

Under the teaching of Fabritz, Pope’s lack of any attempt to prevent the numerous acts of abuse committed by the mother over a relatively protracted period and her failure to seek medical assistance for the child, although the need therefor was obviously compelling and urgent, could constitute a cause for the further progression and worsening of the injuries which led to the child’s death. In such circumstances, Pope’s omissions constituted in themselves cruel and inhumane treatment within the meaning of the statute. See Fabritz, 276 Md. at 425-426. It follows that Pope would be guilty of child abuse if her status brought her within the class of persons specified by the statute. It being clear *329that she was neither the child’s parent nor adoptive parent, and there being no evidence sufficient to support a finding that she had “the permanent or temporary care or custody” of the child as that status was construed in Bowers v. State, supra, so as to be in loco parentis to the child, the sole question is whether she had “responsibility for the supervision of” the child in the circumstances. If she had such responsibility the evidence was legally sufficient to find her guilty of child abuse as a principal in the first degree.

The State would have us translate compassion and concern, acts of kindness and care, performance of maternal functions, and general help and aid with respect to the child into responsibility for the supervision of the child. The crux of its argument is that although Pope was not under any obligation to assume responsibility for the supervision of the child at the outset, “once she undertook to house, feed, and care for [the mother and child], she did accept the responsibility and came within the coverage of the statute.” But the mother was always present.14 Pope had no right to usurp the role of the mother even to the extent of responsibility for the child’s supervision. We are in full accord with the view of the Court of Special Appeals that it could not “in good conscience hold that a person who has taken in a parent and child is given the responsibility for the child’s supervision and protection even while the child is in the very arms of its mother.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 538. It would be most incongruous that acts of hospitality and kindness, made out of common decency and prompted by sincere concern for the well-being of a mother and her child, subjected the Good Samaritan to criminal prosecution for abusing the very child he sought to look after. And it would be especially ironic were such criminal prosecution to be predicated upon an obligation to take *330affirmative action with regard to abuse of the child by its mother, when such obligation arises solely from those acts of hospitality and kindness.

The evidence does not show why Pope did not intervene when the mother abused the child or why she did not, at least, timely seek medical assistance, when it was obvious that the child was seriously injured. Whether her lack of action was from fear or religious fervor or some other reason is not clearly indicated. As the Court of Special Appeals correctly stated “[Pope’s] testimony sought to indicate that her passivity was motivated by fear but other evidence belied that inference.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 532. The court observed that when Pope’s sister arrived shortly after the acts of abuse and the mother’s frenzy had diminished, Pope did not tell her sister what had occurred, although she claimed that she tried to but could not do so. But Pope’s conduct, during and after the acts of abuse, must be evaluated with regard for the rule that although she may have had a strong moral obligation to help the child, she was under no legal obligation to do so unless she then had responsibility for the supervision of the child as contemplated by the child abuse statute. She may not be punished as a felon under our system of justice for failing to fulfill a moral obligation, and the short of it is that she was under no legal obligation. In the circumstances, the mother’s acquiescence in Pope’s conduct was not a grant of responsibility to Pope for the supervision of the child, nor was . Pope’s conduct an acceptance of such responsibility. “[Pope’s] concern for the child [did] not convert to legal responsibility nor parental prerogatives.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 538. We hold that the evidence was not sufficient in law to prove that Pope fell within that class of persons to whom the child abuse statute applies. Thus it is that the judgment of the trial court that she was a principal in the first degree in the commission of the crime of child abuse was clearly erroneous and must be set aside.

The mental or emotional state of the mother, whereby at times she held herself out as God, does not change the result. We see no basis in the statute for an interpretation that a person “has” responsibility for the supervision of a child, if *331that person believes or may have reason to believe that a parent is not capable of caring for the child. There is no right to make such a subjective judgment in order to divest parents of their rights and obligations with respect to their minor children, and therefore, no obligation to do so.15

Principal in the Second Degree

Pope was actually present when the felony was committed, but, we have determined, she was not a perpetrating actor. She would be a principal in the second degree if she aided or abetted in the commission of the crime. The principal in the second degree differs from the principal in the first degree in that he does not do the deed himself or through an innocent agent but in some way participates in the commission of the felony by aiding, commanding, counseling or encouraging the actual perpetrator.16 R. Perkins, Criminal Law 658-659 (2d ed. 1969); Clark & Marshall, A Treatise on the Law of Crimes § 8.02 (7th ed. 1967). Unless he contributed actual aid it is necessary that his approval should be manifested by some word or act in such a way that it operated on the mind of the perpetrator. Even the secret acquiescence or approval of the bystander is not sufficient to taint him with the guilt of the crime. “Counsel, command or encouragement may be in the form of words or gestures. Such a purpose ‘may be manifested by acts, words, signs, motions, or any conduct *332which unmistakably evinces a design to encourage, incite, or approve of the crime.’ Promises or threats are very effective for this purpose, but much less will meet the legal requirement, as where a bystander merely emboldened the perpetrator to kill the deceased.... One may also encourage a crime by merely standing by for the purpose of giving aid to the perpetrator if necessary, provided the latter is aware of this purpose. Guilt or innocence of the abettor ... is not determined by the quantum of his advice or encouragement. If it is rendered to induce another to commit the crime and actually has this effect, no more is required.” Perkins at 659. “To be guilty as a principal in the second degree, a criminal intent is necessary.” Clark & Marshall § 8.02. “Aid or encouragement to another who is actually perpetrating a felony will not make the aider or encourager guilty of the crime if it is rendered without mens rea. It is without mens rea if the giver does not know or have reason to know of the criminal intention of the other.... In general it is the abettor’s state of mind rather than the state of mind of the perpetrator which determines the abettor’s guilt or innocence.... ‘[I]ntention’ includes not only the purpose in mind but also such results as are known to be substantially certain to follow.” Perkins at 662-663.

When the evidence here is viewed in the light of these criteria, it is patent that it was not legally sufficient to prove that Pope was a principal in the second degree. She neither actually aided the mother in the acts of abuse nor did she counsel, command or encourage her. The Court of Special Appeals pointed out the facts relied on by the trial court — that the events took place in Pope’s home, that Pope responded to the commands of the mother, namely that she looked when told to look and came when called, that she voluntarily opened the door to her son’s room so Melissa could reach him, and that she failed to interfere or question the mother’s activity, even when the mother appeared rational — were simply not enough to meet the test. Pope, 38 Md. App. at 538-541.

The State concludes the argument in its brief:

“As is obvious from the evidence presented in this *333case, [Pope] witnessed a terrible event. She stood by while Melissa Norris killed her three-month old son. [Pope’s] conduct during the beating ... should be held to be culpable.”

The evidence certainly showed that Pope “witnessed a terrible event” and that she “stood by” while the mother killed the child. But the culpability for her conduct during the abuse of the child must be determined strictly within the law or else the basic tenets of our system of justice are prostituted. There is an understandable feeling of outrage at what occurred, intensified by the fact that the mother, who actually beat the child to death, was held to be not responsible for her criminal acts. But it is the law, not indignation, which governs. The law requires that Pope’s conviction of the felony of child abuse be set aside as clearly erroneous due to evidentiary insufficiency.

II

THE CRIME OF MISPRISION OF FELONY

As we have indicated, a person may be convicted of a felony upon proof establishing that he committed the offense as a perpetrating actor (principal in the first degree), or that, being actually or constructively present, he did not himself commit the offense but aided and abetted in the commission of it (principal in the second degree). “ ‘If he be present,’ said Sir Matthew Hale, ‘and not aiding or abetting to the felony, he is neither principal nor accessory. If A and B be fighting and C, a man of full age, comes by chance, and is a looker on only, and assists neither, he is not guilty of murder or homicide, as principal in the second degree, but is a misprision, for which he shall be fined, unless he use means to apprehend the felon.’ ” 17 In the case before us, both the *334trial court and the Court of Special Appeals believed that the misdemeanor of misprision of felony exists in Maryland today. The Court of Special Appeals expressly heíd “that misprision of felony was a crime at common law given life in Maryland by Art. 5 of the Declaration of Rights.18 It rejected the contention that the crime “has become obsolete or abandoned by disuse” as “without merit.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 527.19

There is no Maryland legislative enactment which is declarative of the common law crime of misprision of felony or which may be deemed to have created a comparable offense. Therefore, if misprision of felony is a crime in this State, it is only because it was part of the common law of England to which the inhabitants of Maryland were constitutionally entitled and has survived to the present time.

We assume, arguendo, that misprision of felony was a crime under the common law of England, and that it became the law of this State pursuant to Art. 5 of the Declaration of Rights. The question is whether it is to be deemed an indictable offense in Maryland today. In determining the question, we look first to what misprision of felony is. According to Blackstone, the crime at common law consisted merely in the “concealment of a felony which a man knows, but never assented to; for if he assented this makes him either principal or accessory.” 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *121. See Clark & Marshall, A Treatise on the Law of Crimes § 8.14 (7th ed. 1967); R. Perkins, Criminal Law 512 (2d ed. 1969); L. *335Hochheimer, Crimes and Criminal Procedure § 39 (1st ed. 1897).

“[TJhere is reason to believe that misprision of felony as defined by Blackstone is merely one phase of the system of communal responsibility for the apprehension of criminals which received its original impetus from William I, under pressure of the need to protect the invading Normans in hostile country, and which endured up to the Seventeenth Century in England. In order to secure vigilant prosecution of criminal conduct, the vill or hundred in which such conduct occurred was subject to fine, as was the tithing to which the criminal belonged, and every person who knew of the felony and failed to make report thereof was subject to punishment for misprision of felony. Compulsory membership in the tithing group, the obligation to pursue criminals when the hue and cry was raised, broad powers of private arrest, and the periodic visitations of the General Eyre for the purpose of penalizing laxity in regard to crime, are all suggestive of the administrative background against which misprision of felony developed. With the appearance of specialized and paid law enforcement officers, such as constables and justices of the peace in the Seventeenth Century, there was a movement away from strict communal responsibility, and a growing tendency to rely on professional police.” 8 U. Chi. L. Rev. 338, 340-341 (1941) (footnotes omitted).

Glazebrook, Misprision of Felony — Shadow or Phantom?, 8 Am. J. of Legal History 189 and 283 (1964) cites eminent authority that in England the offense fell “into desuetude.” Id. at 300. According to Glazebrook, there was no “reported decision during the four hundred years since the offence first crept into a book,” and no book before J. Chitty, A Practical Treatise on the Criminal Law (2d ed., London 1826) contained “a precedent of an indictment for misprision of felony.” Id. In any event, if the crime had died, it was resurrected by the *336House of Lords in H. L. Sykes v. Director of Public Prosecution, [1961] 3 All E. R. 33. Lord Denning stated that “it is plain that there is and always has been an offence of misprision of felony and that it is not obsolete.” 20 Id. at 40. Sykes acknowledged only two necessary elements, knowledge and concealment. “[M]isprision requires nothing active. The failure or refusal to disclose the felony is enough.” Id. at 41. This followed the Blackstone definition.

The “revival” in England of the crime of misprision of felony was not generally welcomed. “Resistance to the crime culminated in the Seventh Report of the Criminal Law Revision Committee which recommended the abolition of the crime of misprision by eliminating all distinctions between felonies and misdemeanors. Misprision was replaced in the report by a new crime of withholding information with regard to certain offenses for a consideration other than restitution. [An agreement not to prosecute a felon in consideration of the return or compensation for goods stolen constitutes the common law offense of compounding a felony.] The Criminal Law Act of 1967 [c. 58 §§ 1 and 5] adopted these two recommendations and has been interpreted as eliminating the crime of misprision of felony in England.” Comment, Misprision of Felony: A Reappraisal, 23 Emory L. J. 1095, 1100-1101 (1974). See W. Wade and B. Lilliwhite, Annual Survey of Commonwealth Law 179 (1965); 10 Halsbury’s Law of England 111201 (Supp. 1978).

The American experience paralleled that of England; the common law offense was simply not used. The status of the crime in the United States was summed up in Glazebrook, *337How Long, Then, Is The Arm Of The Law To Be?, 25 Mod. L. Rev. 301, 307, n. 51 (1962):

“No court in the United States has been prepared to adopt the English doctrine in its simplicity, and hold that a mere failure to disclose knowledge of a felony is itself an offence: State v. Hann 40 N.J.L. 288 (1878) often cited as a solitary exception (e.g. (1945) 32 Va.L.R. 172) was a decision on a statutory, not the common law offence. In several states an attempt has been made to establish an offence intermediate between a simple concealment and that of the accessory after: e.g., State v. Wilson 80 Vt. 249; 67 Atl. 533 (1907); State v. Biddle 2 Harr (Del.) 401; 124 Atl. 804 (1923);[21] Carpenter v. State 62 Ark. 286; 36 S. W. 900 (1896); Commonwealth v. Lopes (Mass.) 61 N.E. (2d) 849 (1945); State v. Graham 100 La. 669 (1938): ‘... in the modern acceptation of the term, misprision of felony is almost if not exactly the same as that of an accessory after the fact’ (p. 680). The utility of such an offence has not, however, been demonstrated: ‘... perhaps not a single case can be cited in which punishment for such connection with a felony has been inflicted in the U.S.’ — 2 McClain Criminal Law, s. 938, cited at (1953) 6 S.Car. L.Q. 91. In Michigan, where the constitution incorporates the common law of crimes, the Supreme Court held that this does not extend to misprision of felony since it is ‘wholly unsuited to American criminal law and procedure as used in this State’; State v. Lefkovitz 294 Mich. 263, 293 N.W. 642 (1940); cf. U.S. v. Worcester 190 F.Supp. 565-566 (1960). And in interpreting the Federal statute (1 Stat. 113, s. 6) [18 *338U.S.C. § 4 (1976)] which provides that ‘whoever having knowledge of the actual commission, of a felony cognizable by a court of the United States conceals and does not as soon as possible make known the same to some judge or other person in civil or military authority under the U.S. shall be fined not more than $500 or imprisoned not more than three years or both,’ it has been held that there must be some affirmative act of concealment, for instance the suppression of evidence, the harbouring of the criminal or the intimidation of witnesses, as well as the failure to disclose, for otherwise ‘the words conceals and would be effectively excised from the statute.’ This interpretation was necessary to rescue the statute from an ‘intolerable oppressiveness,’ for while federal statutes were few when it was enacted in 1790, the great increase in their number would make it unénforceable today if any other were adopted: Bratton v. U.S. 73 F. (2d) 795 [10th cir.] (1934); followed Neal v. U.S. 102 F. (2d) 643 (1939). [See also United States v. Farrer, 38 F. 2d 515 (D. Mass.), aff’d, 281 U. S. 624 (1930).] This policy appears to have been successful. In 1956 the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals noticed that ‘the annotations indicate no conviction for misprision [under the Federal statute] affirmed’: Miller v. U.S., 230 F. (2d) 486., Cf. Bratton v. U.S.: ‘s. 146 was enacted April 30, 1790 ... and as far as the researches of court and counsel disclose, has been before the courts but twice in the 144 years of its life’ (p. 797).”

Perkins in the second edition (1969) of his Criminal Law states that “there seems to be no such offense as misprision of felony in most of the states.” At 516. No such offense is included in the Model Penal Code (U.L.A.).22 Four years ago, Florida followed Michigan’s view announced in Lefkovitz, *339supra, that misprision of felony was wholly unsuited to American criminal law. Holland v. State, 302 So. 2d 806 (Fla. App. 1974). Cf. Mangeris v. Gordon, Nev., 580 P. 2d 481, 483-484 (1978). Compare State v. Flynn, 100 R. I. 520, 217 A. 2d 432 (1966), stating that the common law crime of misprision of felony was an indictable offense under the constitution and laws of Rhode Island.

A few states have enacted legislation creating a crim© of misprision of felony substantially similar to the common law offense as defined in Sykes. See N.J.S.A. § 2A:97-2 (N.J. 1969); Ohio Rev. Code 8 2921.22 (Spec. Supp. 1973); Wash. Rev. Code § 9.69.100 (1976). Two states had such statutes, see Me. Rev. Stat. title 17, § 902 (1964) and La. Rev. Stat. § 856 (1870), which were later repealed.

Maryland has been in line with the practically universal view of the other states, We find no case prior to the case sub judlce in which a conviction of misprision of felony has reached an appellate court of this State and, insofar as can be ascertained from appellate dockets, there is only one other, State v. Shaw, 282 Md. 231, 383 A. 2d 1104 (1978), see note 19, supra, in which the crime was charged. It is true, as observed by the trial court in the case at hand, that “[a] dearth of appellate cases is not proof that the crime is not charged at trial level,” but in view of the numerous appeals in criminal causes spawned by present day procedures and rights afforded an accused, it is remarkable indeed that, if convictions upon charge of the crime have occurred, the present case was the first in which an appeal was filed. We think that it is a fair inference that the crime has been seldom charged, and, if charged, has resulted in very few, if any convictions. Furthermore, we observe that misprision of felony was not proposed as an offense by Maryland’s Commission on Criminal Law.23

As it seems that misprision of felony has been virtually unused in Maryland since the Revolution gave birth to the *340United States, our inquiry turns to the effect of non-use of a common law crime. Early on, in State v. Buchanan, 5 H. & J. 317, (1821), Buchanan, J. for the Court announced that no part of the common law of England to which the inhabitants of Maryland were constitutionally entitled should be excluded merely because it had not been introduced and used in the courts here. Id. at 358. See McGraw v. State, 234 Md. 273, 275-276, 199 A. 2d 229, cert. denied, 379 U. S. 862 (1964). Judge Buchanan explained:

“[U]nlike a positive or statute law, the occasion or necessity for which may long since have passed away, if there has been no necessity before, for instituting a prosecution for ■ conspiracy, no argument can be drawn from the non-user for resting on principles which cannot become obsolete, it has always potentially existed, to be applied' as occasion should arise. If there had never been in Maryland, since the original settlement of the colony by our ancestors, a prosecution for murder, arson, assault and battery, libel, with many other common law offenses, and consequently no judicial adoption of either of these branches of the common law, could it therefore be contended, that there was now no law in the State for the punishment of such offenses?” 5 H. & J. at 358.

This principle was affirmed by us, implicitly at least, in Harris v. Jones, 281 Md. 560, 380 A. 2d 611 (1977) when we “recognized for the first time in Maryland the common law tort of intentional infliction of emotional distress, a tort previously unacknowledged or arguably abandoned by non-use.” Pope, 38 Md. App. at 527. It does not follow, however, that because a common law crime does not become obsolete from mere non-use that it will always be viable. The opinion of the Court in Buchanan asserted that the provision in Art. 5 of the Declaration of Rights regarding entitlement to the common law of England without any restrictive words being used, had reference “to the common law in mass, as it existed here, either potentially, or practically, and as it prevailed in England at the time, except such portions of it *341as are inconsistent with the spirit of that instrument, and the nature of our new political institutions.” 5 H. & J. at 358 (emphasis added). We have repeated that statement on a number of occasions, Dashiell v. Attorney General, 5 H. & J. 392, 401 (1822); State v. Bank of Maryland, 6 G. & J. 205, 226 (1834); Lickle v. Boone, 187 Md. 579, 582, 51 A. 2d 162 (1947); McGraw v. State, supra, 234 Md. at 275-276; Gladden v. State, 273 Md. 383, 389, 330 A. 2d 176 (1974). We put it this way in Denison v. Denison, 35 Md. 361, 378 (1872):

“It is true the common law of England has been adopted by the people of this State, but only so far as it could be made to fit and adjust itself to our local circumstances and peculiar institutions.”

What this means is that the common law is subject to change. This is clearly apparent from its derivation and its very nature:

“The common law of England is derived from immemorial usage and custom, originating from Acts of Parliament not recorded, or which are lost, or have been destroyed. It is a system of jurisprudence founded on the immutable principles of justice, and denominated by the great luminary of the law of England, the perfection of reason. The evidence of it are treatises of the sages of the law, the judicial records and adjudications of the Courts of justice of England,.” Buchanan. 5 H. & J. at 365 (opinion of Chase, C. J.).

It may be changed by legislative act as Art. 5 of the Declaration of Rights expressly provides. See State v. Canova, 278 Md. 483, 486, 365 A. 2d 988 (1976); Lutz v. State, 167 Md. 12, 15, 172 A. 354 (1934); Harrison v. State, 22 Md. 468, 487-488 (1864); Coomes v. Clements, 4 H. & J. 480, 481. It may also be changed by judicial decision. Chase, C. J., in his opinion in Buchanan, observed: “Whether particular parts of the common law are applicable to our local circumstances and situation, and our general code of laws and jurisprudence, is a question that comes within the province of the courts of *342justice, and is to be decided by them.” 5 H. & J. at 365-366. He gave this rationale:

“The common law, like our acts of assembly, are subject to the control and modification of the Legislature, and may be abrogated or changed as the general assembly may think most conducive to the general welfare; so that no great inconvenience, if any, can result from the power being deposited with the judiciary to decide what the common law is, and its applicability to the circumstances of the state,____” Id. at 866.24

We said in Gilbert v. Findlay College, 195 Md. 508, 513, 74 A. 2d 86 (1950) that “[t]his interpretation has been continuously adopted in this State, and was reaffirmed in the case of Price v. Hitaffer, 164 Md. 505, 510, 165 A. 470 [1933].” We asserted in Ass'n of Taxi Oprs. v. Yellow Cab Co., 198 Md. 181, 204, 82 A. 2d 106 (1951): “We have frequently held that it is our duty to determine the common law as it exists in this state — ”25 The doctrine of stare decisis does not preclude the exercise of this duty. We declared in White v. King, 244 Md. 348, 354, 223 A. 2d 763 (1966): “The doctrine of stare decisis, important as it is, is not to be construed as preventing us from changing a rule of law if we are convinced that the rule has become unsound in the circumstances of modern life.” Accord, Hearst Corp. v. St. Dep’t of A. & T., 269 Md. 625, 643-644, 308 A. 2d 679 (1973).

Parts of the common law have been found by judicial mandate to be inapplicable or obsolete in other states. For example, Flores v. Flores, 84 N. M. 601, 506 P. 2d 345, 347 *343(N.M. App.), cert. denied, 84 N. M. 592, 506 P. 2d 336 (1973) found that “liability free intentional injury to one’s spouse does not reflect the circumstances in New Mexico.” Swartz v. United States Steel, 293 Ala. 493, 304 So. 2d 881, 885 (1974) held that the common law rule that a wife has no cause of action for loss of her consortium is inconsistent with the institutions of Alabama. Morganthaler v. First Atlantic National Bank, 80 So. 2d 446 (Fla. 1955) rejected the English rule that a legatee may elect to receive cash when a testator directs his executor to purchase an annuity because it “dethrones a principle [that the intent of the testator controls] which is sacred to our way of life and fundamental in our concepts of right and justice.” Id. at 452.

In exercising our duty to determine whether a common law crime presently exists in this State, mere non-use is not sufficient, as we have indicated, to conclude that the offense has become obsolete. But non-use, we believe, is not without significance. When an offense has lain virtually dormant for over two hundred years, it is difficult to argue that the preservation of society and the maintenance of law and order demand recognition of it. See Glazebrook, How Long, Then, Is The Arm Of The Law To Be?, 25 Mod. L. Rev. 301, 307-311 (1962). Perkins points out:

“The notion that misprision is needed, to prevent one who knows about another’s felony from intentionally misleading investigating officers, is unfounded. If, when being questioned by officers who are investigating a felony, one who knows the facts intentionally misleads the officers by false statements and thereby 'covers up’ for the felon, he thereby makes himself an accessory to that felony after the fact. If he impedes the investigation by falsely saying he does not know about it, or by refusing to talk, he should be held to be guilty of obstructing justice. There is a wide difference between a mere failure to hunt up an officer and tell about a felony, on the one hand, and a refusal to cooperate with an investigating officer, on the other.” R. Perkins, Criminal Law 517 (2d ed. 1969).

*344Even more relevant, however, to a consideration of whether a common law crime is applicable as compatible with our local circumstances and situation and our general codes of law and jurisprudence is the nature of the crime. The reason for the failure of common law misprision of felony to survive in the United States was well expressed by Chief Justice Marshall over a hundred and fifty years ago in Marbury v. Brooks, 20 U. S. (7 Wheat.) 556, 575-576 (1822) and thereafter noted by many commentators, text book authors and other authorities:

“It may be the duty of a citizen to accuse every offender, and to proclaim every offence which comes to his knowledge; but the law which would punish him in every case for not performing this duty is too harsh for man.”

In England, according to Glazebrook in his critical consideration of Sykes v. Director of Public Prosecutions, supra, in 25 Mod. L. Rev. 301, the Criminal Law Commissioners in their Fifth Report in 1840 repeated and elaborated this criticism and observed:

“ ‘The necessity of making such disclosures extends perhaps with greater force to the knowledge of a meditated crime, the perpetration of which may, by means of such disclosure, be prevented, than it does to the knowledge of one already committed.’ ” Id. at 301, citing, n. 3, “Pari. Pap. (1840) xx, p. 32; quoted, Williams, The Criminal Law: The General Part (2nd ed., London 1961), p. 423.”

Glazebrook opined that “[f]or more than a century misprision of felony has been an embarrassment to common lawyers,” and feared that the decisions and speeches in the House of Lords in Sykes “afford only increased cause for this embarrassment.” Id. at 301. The Court of Special Appeals relied on Sykes in holding that misprision of felony, as Sykes found it existed at common law, was currently an indictable crime in Maryland.26 Glazebrook ably refuted Sykes, and we borrow extensively from him in the discussion which follows.

*345Misprision of felony at common law is an unpractically wide crime, a long-standing criticism which remains unanswered in Sykes. It has an undesirable and ^discriminating width:

“The real harshness lies in the fact that the duty to disclose arises when a person acquires knowledge of an offence, and this he may do quite involuntarily. A says to B: ‘Did you know that X stole a book from the library last week?’ adding appropriate circumstantial details; or X says to B: T stole some money yesterday; will you help me to repay it?’ B is a friend of X; he wished to know nothing of X’s misdeeds; and yet he is to be a criminal if he does not betray him. It is, furthermore, particularly difficult to defend a law which indiscriminately adds to the injuries of the victim of a crime the penalties of the criminal law should he or she wish to forgive and forget.” 25 Mod. L. Rev. at 311.

Misprision differs from almost all other common law offenses of omission:

“[T]he duty to act arises not because of the willing assumption of responsibility, the occupation of an office, or the ownership of property, but because of the mere possession of certain knowledge — knowledge possessed accidentally and undesired — knowledge which may indeed have been acquired through some malevolent person.” Id.

Glazebrook observes that although “[tjhere may be crimes where the protection of the public requires that each offender be brought to justice however reluctant his victims, his friends, or those who have him in their care, may be to do so, ... the line which separates them from all other offences is not the line which separates felonies from misdemeanors.” Id. *346at 312. This is particularly true with respect to Maryland where the distinction between felony and misdemeanor is a hodgepodge, following neither rhyme nor reason.

Under Sykes, no active step need be taken to conceal the felony (it is only thus that it remains quite distinct from the crime of accessory after the fact), and the concealment need bring no benefit to the accused.27 But three fundamental questions remained: when does the duty to reveal a felony arise; how is that duty discharged; and does a relationship with the felon prevent the duty arising? 28

It seems that the duty arises when “a man knows” of the commission of a felony. When, then, can a man, be said to know and what is it that he must know? Lord Goddard held that there must be disclosure when the knowledge a man has “is so definite that it ought to be disclosed. A man is neither bound nor would he be wise to disclose rumours or mere gossip, but, if facts are within his knowledge that would materially assist in the detection and arrest of a felon, he must disclose them as it is a duty he owes to the state.” Sykes at 46. Lord Goddard left the matter to the jury as a question of fact. Glazebrook suggests that “unless the jury is to be entirely uncontrolled, it has to be told how precise and certain the accused’s knowledge must have been before he can be convicted.” 25 Mod. L. Rev. at 313. Is the duty to be confined to felonies committed in the presence of the accused, and, if not, is hearsay sufficient? Should the felon’s own admission, standing alone, be enough? Knowledge of the commission of a crime is an ingredient of the offenses of accessory after the fact and receiving stolen goods, but, unlike misprision, they require a positive act. It is reasonable, in such circumstance, to require a person who has reason to believe something is *347wrong to inquire further before embarking on some course of conduct, and to hold that he fails to do so at his peril. “If this rule is applied to misprision, two duties are imposed: a duty to disclose knowledge of a felony, and a duty also to make inquiries to resolve a suspicion concerning the commission of a felony.” Id. To paraphrase Glazebrook, must the inhabitants of Maryland become detectives as well as informers?

Sykes fails to provide a working rule for what the accused must know. There was a direct conflict between Lord Denning and Lord Morton into which their brethren did not enter. Discussing knowledge, Lord Denning said:

“The accused man must know' that a felony has been committed by someone else. His knowledge must be proved in the way in which the prosecution have been accustomed in other crimes when knowledge is an ingredient, such as receiving, accessory after the fact, compounding a felony, and so forth. That is to say, there must be evidence that a reasonable man in his place, with such facts and information before him as the accused had, would have known that a felony had been committed. From such evidence the jury may infer that the accused man himself had knowledge of it. He need not know the difference between felony and misdemeanour — many a lawyer has to look in the books for the purpose....” Sykes at 41.

Glazebrook comments: “This leaves it largely a matter of chance whether misprision is committed or not.” 25 Mod. L. Rev. at 314. That is, on the one hand, it must have been a felony of which the accused knew, but on the other hand, he need not know whether the crime was a felony or a misdemeanor. According to Lord Denning, it would be enough that the accused knew that a serious offense had been committed if it turns out to be a felony — “a lawyer on turning up the books sees it is a felony____”

“This requirement that it must be a serious offence disposes of many of the supposed absurdities, such *348as boys stealing apples, which many laymen would . rank as a misdemeanour and no one would think he was bound to report to the police. It means that misprision comprehends an offence which is of so serious a character that an ordinary law-abiding citizen would realise he ought to report it to the police.” Sykes at 42.

This rationale was based on the view that what distinguishes a felony from a misdemeanor is that a felony is a serious offense, “an offence of an ‘aggravated complexion’____ Felonies are the serious offences. Misdemeanours are the less serious.” Id. This introduced a limitation Lord Morton was not willing to accept. Id. at 46-47. In any event, the limitation added the further uncertainty of a trier of fact’s view qf the gravity of the crime to be reported. 25 Mod. L. Rev. at 314. And, we observe, the foundation for the limitation is weak indeed when considered in light of the categories of felonies and misdemeanors adopted in this State. Sykes avoids what account is to be taken of excuses offered by an apparent felon. For example, “[i]n cases of larceny, may the citizen be satisfied by any claim of right that is made, or must it be weighed, and where suspicion remains this communicated to the police? ... The [Sykes} recognition of misprision means, therefore, the imposition not of a duty to disclose knowledge of the commission of a felony, but of a duty to disclose suspicions of the commission of a felony....” Id. at 314-315. There are no criteria for determining which suspicions are to give rise to a duty, and so to criminal liability.

When the duty to disclose has arisen, it is not clear how it is discharged. It would be logical that once the authorities are in possession of all the information concerning a felony, a citizen’s duty to disclose his own knowledge ceases. So there is an added element of chance — “the chance that the police already know.” Id. at 315. Lord Denning saw the duty as requiring a citizen “to disclose to proper authority all material facts known to him relative to the offence. It is not sufficient to tell the police that a felony has been committed. He must *349tell the name of the man who did it, if he knows it; [29] the place, and so forth. All material facts known to him----If he fails or refuses to perform this duty when there is a reasonable opportunity available to him to do so, then he is guilty of misprision.” Sykes at 42. This was not sufficient for Lord Goddard. He thought that “facts ... within his knowledge that would materially assist in the detection and arrest of a felon” must be disclosed as a duty owed to the State. Id. at 46. “Thus if a man disclosed all he knew about the commission of a felony and yet did not disclose the whereabouts of the felon he would be acquitted by Lord Denning and convicted by Lord Goddard.” 25 Mod. L. Rev. at 315.

Their lordships agreed that the questions of when the knowledge must be revealed and how much trouble must be taken to reveal it were for the jury. Glazebrook is critical of this as assigning unsuitably vague questions to the trier of fact:

“If a man is to be punished for not doing something, he ought to know precisely what is expected of him. The standard which he fails at his peril to attain ought not to be left to be fixed after the event by the whim of a particular jury. Formulae that pass muster in determining the liability of one who engages in a dangerous course of conduct are not always suited to crimes of pure omission.” Id. at 316.

Only Lord Denning considered relationship with the felon with respect to the duty to disclose:

“Non-disclosure may be due to a claim of right made in good faith. For instance, if a lawyer is told by his client that he has committed a felony, it would be no misprision in the lawyer not to report it to the police, for he might in good faith claim that he was under a duty to keep it confidential. Likewise with doctor *350and patient, and clergyman and parishioner. There are other relationships which may give rise to a claim in good faith that it is in the public interest not to disclose it. For instance, if an employer discovers that his servant has been stealing from the till, he might well be justified in giving him another chance rather than reporting him to the police. Likewise with the master of a college and a student. But close family or personal ties will not suffice where the offence is of so serious a character that it ought to be reported.” Sykes at 42.

Glazebrook finds this to be “a singularly unhappy instance of creative judicial activity, for a defence grounded on a ‘claim of right made in good faith’ is in this context inapt, and the choice of relationship perverse.” 25 Mod. L. R. at 317. He explains:

“A person advancing a defence of ‘claim of right’ pleads that he mistakenly thought that the law recognised in him a right to act in the way he did. If his defence is accepted, his mistake will be benevolently viewed, and he is excepted from criminal liability. The defence is thus founded on the mistake, on the claim, not the right, and disappears when the mistake is corrected____In short, if the crime is to be limited, there must be a categorical rule that doctors and the like are under no duty to disclose their patients’ felonies.” Id.

As to the choice of exempt relationships

“[t]he exclusion in misprision of ‘close family or personal ties’ is utterly callous and certainly futile: how can the relation between doctor and patient, an employer and his servant, be thought more sacred, more deserving of respect and consideration — even by the law — than that between husband and wife, between father and son? By what standard is it unreasonable to expect an employer to report his servant’s crimes to the police, and yet proper that a son should betray his father?” Id. at 318.

*351We observe that common law misprision is not only beset with practical defects but may implicate constitutional privileges. To sustain the Fifth Amendment .right against self-incrimination,30 “it need only be evident from the implications of the question, in the setting in which it is asked, that a responsive answer ... might be dangerous because injurious disclosure might result.” Hoffman v. United States, 341 U. S. 479, 486-487, 71 S. Ct. 814 (1951). The privilege extends not only to information that would itself support a conviction, but “likewise embraces those which would furnish a link in the chain of evidence to prosecute the claimant....” Id. at 486. See United States v. King, 402 F. 2d 694 (9th Cir. 1968), reversing conviction of federal misprision on Fifth Amendment grounds. We note also that it has been suggested that the federal misprision statute may involve the right of privacy. In United States v. Worcester, 190 F. Supp. 548, 566 (D. Mass. 1961), Judge Wyzanski, discussing the federal statute, said:

“To suppose that Congress reached every failure to disclose a known federal crime, in this day of myriad federal tax statutes and regulatory laws, would impose a vast and unmeasurable obligation. It would do violence to the unspoken principle of the criminal law that ‘as far as possible privacy should be respected.’ There is ‘a strong reluctance on the part of judges and legislators to sanction invasion of privacy in the detection of crime.’ There is ‘a general sentiment that the right to privacy is something to be put in balance against the enforcement of the law.’ Sir Patrick Devlin, The Enforcement of Morals, p. 19.”

See Shannonhouse, Misprision of a Federal Felony: Dangerous Relic or Scourge of Malfeasance, 4 U. Balt. L. Rev. 59 (1974), calling for “excisement from the criminal code” of the federal crime. Compare Goldberg, Misprision of Felony: An Old Concept in New Context, 52 A.B.A.J. 148 *352(1966), and Comment, Misprision of Felony: A Crime Whose Time Has Come, Again, 28 U. Fla. L. Rev. 199 (1975).

We have proceeded on the assumption that the House of Lords was correct in concluding in Sykes that “there is and always has 'been an offense of misprision of felony....” Sykes at 40. We are persuaded, finding no sound reason not to be, that their lordships’ definition of the offense and the composition of its elements properly reflected the crime as it existed at common law. We are satisfied, considering its origin, the impractical and indiscriminate width of its scope, its other obvious deficiencies, and its long non-use, that it is not now compatible with our local circumstances and situation and our general code of laws and jurisprudence. Maintenance of law and order does not demand its application, and, overall, the welfare of the inhabitants of Maryland and society as enjoyed by us today, would not be served by it. If the Legislature finds it advisable that the people be obligated under peril of criminal penalty to disclose knowledge of criminal acts, it is, of course, free to create an offense to that end, within constitutional limitations, and, hopefully, with adequate safeguards.31 We believe that the common law offense is not acceptable by today’s standards, and we are not free to usurp the power of the General Assembly by attempting to fashion one that would be. We hold that misprision of felony is not a chargeable offense in Maryland.

Ill

We have reversed Pope’s conviction of the felony of child abuse because the evidence was insufficient to sustain the verdict. She may not be tried again for that crime. Burks v. United States, 437 U. S. 1, 98 S. Ct. 2141 (1978); Greene v. *353Massey, 437 U. S. 19, 98 S. Ct. 2151 (1978); Mackall v. State, 283 Md. 100, 387 A. 2d 762 (1978).

As we have held that the crime of misprision of felony does not now exist in Maryland, Pope may not, of course, be retried on a charge of that crime.

IV

Pope moved that we strike from the State’s brief and appendix a selection from the Year Book of 1484 written in Medieval Latin and references thereto. The State provided no translation and conceded a total lack of knowledge of what it meant. The motion is granted.

Pope had the selection translated at a cost of $150. She further moves this Court to order the Office of the Attorney General to reimburse the Office of the Public Defender for the cost of the translation. Pope undertook to have the selection translated on her own initiative. The motion is denied.

Judgment of the Court of Special Appeals with respect to child abuse, third count of Indictment No. 18666, reversing the judgment of the Circuit Court for Montgomery County, affirmed; judgments of the Court of Special Appeals with respect to misprision of felony, fifth count of Indictment No. 18666, affirming the judgment of the Circuit Court for Montgomery County, reversed; case remanded to Court of Special Appeals with direction to remand to the Circuit Court for Montgomery County for entry of judgment of acquittal on the third count and dismissal of the fifth count; motion of appellant to strike granted; motion of appellant for appropriate relief denied; costs to be paid by Montgomery County.

*354 Eldridge, J,

concurring in part and dissenting in part

I concur in that portion of the Court’s opinion relating to the crime of misprision of a felony. I also agree with the majority that Pope was not guilty of child abuse as a principal in the second degree. However, I cannot agree with the majority’s restrictive interpretation of the child abuse statute, which interpretation furnishes the basis for the majority’s conclusion that Pope was not guilty of child abuse as a principal in the first degree.

The child abuse statute, Maryland Code (1957, 1976 Repl. Vol.), Art. 27, § 35A (a), reaches “[a]ny parent, adoptive parent or other person who has the permanent or temporary care or custody or responsibility for the supervision of a minor child____” The Court today takes the position that the statutory phrase “has responsibility for the supervision of” is ambiguous, thereby allowing the Court to “give effect to the real intention of the Legislature.” The majority then states that, with regard to persons other than parents, legal custodians or individuals “in loco parentis,” only those persons who have assumed responsibility for a child with the consent of the parent or guardian are covered by the statute. The majority finds it “self-evident” that “a third person may not assume such responsibility unless the parent grants it.”

Thus, we are told by the majority opinion that a “person taking a lost child into his home” while an attempt is made to locate his or her parents is beyond the reach of the child abuse statute. In other words, in the Court’s view, such a person may voluntarily assume full responsibility for the care of a small child, for a lengthy period of time while an effort is being made to find the parents, and during that time may batter the child unmercifully, but he would not be guilty of child abuse under Art. 27, § 35A. In my view this is a totally unwarranted narrowing of an important piece of legislation.

In addition to parents, the child abuse statute applies to “[a]ny ... other person who has ... responsibility for the supervision of a minor child____” The language is clear. Everyone who has responsibility is covered, regardless of how he obtained such responsibility.

*355It is well-established in the law that one may, by his own actions, voluntarily assume a particular responsibility. That the Legislature intended to cover such a person is shown by the language any other person who has responsibility. There is no ambiguity here. Consequently, there is no need to go further in attempting to ascertain the legislative intent. The majority opinion today flatly violates settled principles of statutory construction, recently summarized by Judge Orth for the Court as follows (Wheeler v. State, 281 Md. 593, 596, 380 A. 2d 1052, 1054-1055 (1977), cert. denied, 435 U. S. 997, 98 S. Ct. 1650, 56 L.Ed.2d 86 (1978)):

“The cardinal rule of statutory construction is to ascertain and carry out the real legislative intention. Balto. Gas & Elect. Co. v. Board, 278 Md. 26, 31, 358 A. 2d 241 (1976). A statute should be construed according to the ordinary and natural import of the language used without resorting to subtle or forced interpretations for the purpose of limiting or extending its operation. Burch v. State, 278 Md. 426, 429, 365 A. 2d 577 (1976); Cearfoss v. State, 42 Md. 403, 407 (1875). That is, we must confine ourselves to the statute as written, and may not attempt, under the guise of construction, to supply omissions or remedy possible defects in the statute. In Re Appeals Nos. 1022 & 1081, 278 Md. 174, 178, 359 A. 2d 556 (1976). Thus, if there is no ambiguity or obscurity in the language of a statute, there is usually no need to look elsewhere to ascertain the intent of the Legislature. Maryland Auto Ins. Fund v. Stith, 277 Md. 595, 597, 356 A. 2d 272 (1976). As we said in Purifoy v. Merc.-Safe Dep. & Trust, 273 Md. 58, 66, 327 A. 2d 483 (1974), ‘where statutory language is plain and free from ambiguity and expresses a definite and sensible meaning, courts are not at liberty to disregard the natural import of words with a view toward making the statute express an intention which is different from its plain meaning.’ ”

*356Furthermore, even if there existed some ambiguity in the statute, I am at a loss to know why the majority finds it “self-evident” that only those persons who have been granted responsibility by a parent or guardian should be covered. Nothing in the statutory language indicates, such a legislative purpose. I kno\v of no public policy justifying this differentiation between a person who assumes responsibility for a child with parental consent and one who assumes just as complete a responsibility without the parent’s consent. If either abuses the child, he should be held accountable under § 35A.

The majority appears to be concerned about the “good Samaritans” who watch a lost child, or allow neighbors’ children to play in their yards and exercise supervision, or perform “functions of a maternal nature from concern for the welfare, comfort or health of a child.” However, such “good Samaritans” have nothing to fear from the child abuse statute. But, if one of these same individuals assumes responsibility for the child and batters it, sexually molests it, locks it for a long period of time in a dark closet, etc., that person should be held just as accountable under the child abuse statute as someone else having responsibility for the child.

My concern in this case is not so much with the decision that the evidence was insufficient to convict Pope of child abuse. The evidence may not have been sufficient. Instead, what is troublesome in this case is the damage which the majority has done to the child abuse statute.

Mr. Justice Frankfurter

delivered the opinion of the Court.

This was a prosecution begun by two informations, consolidated for trial, charging Buffalo Pharmacal Company, Inc., and Dotterweich, its president and general,manager, with violations of the Act of Congress of June 25, 1938, c. 675, 52 Stat. 1040, 21 U. S. C. §§ 301-392, known as the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act. The Company, a jobber in drugs, purchased them from their manufacturers and shipped them, repacked under its own label, in interstate commerce. (No question is raised in this case regarding the implications that may properly arise when, although the manufacturer gives the jobber a guaranty, the latter through his own label makes representations.) The informations were based on § 301 of that Act (21 U. S. C. §331), paragraph (a) of which prohibits “The introduction or delivery for introduction into interstate commerce of any . . . drug . . . that is adulterated or misbranded.” “Any person” violating this provision is, by paragraph (a) of § 303 (21 U. S. C. § 333), made “guilty of a misdemeanor.” Three counts went to the jury — two, for shipping misbranded drugs in interstate commerce, and a third, for so shipping an adulterated drug. The jury disagreed as to the corporation and found Dotterweich guilty on all three counts. We start with the finding of the Circuit Court of Appeals that the evidence was adequate to support the verdict of adulteration and misbranding. 131 F. 2d 500, 502.

Two other questions which the Circuit Court of Appeals decided against Dotterweich call only for summary disposition to clear the path for the main question before us. He invoked § 305 of the Act requiring the Administrator, before reporting a violation for prosecution by a *279United States attorney, to give the suspect an “opportunity to present his views.” We agree with the Circuit Court of Appeals that the giving of such an opportunity, which was not accorded to Dotterweich, is not a prerequisite to prosecution. This Court so held in United States v. Morgan, 222 U. S. 274, in construing the Food and Drugs Act of 1906, 34 Stat. 768, and the legislative history to which the court below called attention abundantly proves that Congress, in the changed phraseology of 1938, did not intend to introduce a change of substance. 83 Cong. Rec. 7792-94. Equally baseless is the claim of Dotterweich that, having failed to find the corporation guilty, the jury could not find him guilty. Whether the jury’s verdict was the result of carelessness or compromise or a belief that the responsible individual should suffer the penalty instead of merely increasing, as it were, the cost of running the business of the corporation, is immaterial. Juries may indulge in precisely such motives or vagaries. Dunn v. United States, 284 U. S. 390.

And so we are brought to our real problem. The Circuit Court of Appeals, one judge dissenting, reversed the conviction on the ground that only the corporation was the “person” subject to prosecution unless, perchance, Buffalo Pharmacal was a counterfeit corporation serving as a screen for Dotterweich. On that issue, after rehearing, it remanded the cause for a new trial. We then brought the case here, on the Government’s petition for certiorari, 318 U. S. 753, because this construction raised questions of importance in the enforcement of the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act.

The court below drew its conclusion not from the provisions defining the offenses on which this prosecution was based (§§ 301 (a) and 303 (a)), but from the terms of § 303 (c). That section affords immunity from prosecution if certain conditions are satisfied. The condition relevant to this case is a guaranty from the seller of the innocence of *280his product. So far as here relevant, the provision for an immunizing guaranty is as follows:

“No person shall be subject to the penalties of subsection (a) of this section ... (2) for having violated section 301 (a) or (d), if he establishes a guaranty or undertaking signed by, and containing the name and address of, the person residing in the United States from whom he received in good faith the article, to the effect, in case of an alleged violation of section 301 (a), that such article is not adulterated or misbranded, within the meaning of this Act, designating this Act . . .”

The Circuit Court of Appeals found it “difficult to believe that Congress expected anyone except the principal to get such a guaranty, or to make the guilt of an agent depend upon whether his employer had gotten one.” 131 F. 2d 500, 503. And so it cut down the scope of the penalizing provisions of the Act to the restrictive view, as a matter of language and policy, it took of the relieving effect of a guaranty.

The guaranty clause cannot be read in isolation. The Food and Drugs Act of 1906 was an exertion by Congress of its power to keep impure and adulterated food and drugs out of the channels of commerce. By the Act of 1938, Congress extended the range of its control over illicit and noxious articles and stiffened the penalties for disobedience. The purposes of this legislation thus touch phases of the lives and health of people which, in the circumstances of modern industrialism, are largely beyond self-protection. Regard for these purposes should infuse construction of the legislation if it is to be treated as a working instrument of government and not merely as a collection of English words. See Hipolite Egg Co. v. United States, 220 U. S. 45, 57, and McDermott v. Wisconsin, 228 U. S. 115, 128. The prosecution to which Dot-terweich was subjected is based on a now familiar type of legislation whereby penalties serve as effective means *281of regulation. Such legislation dispenses with the conventional requirement for criminal conduct — awareness of some wrongdoing. In the interest of the larger good it puts the burden of acting at hazard upon a person otherwise innocent but standing in responsible relation to a public danger. United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250. And so it is clear that shipments like those now in issue are "punished by the statute if the article is misbranded [or adulterated], and that the article may be misbranded [or adulterated] without any conscious fraud at all. It was natural enough to throw this risk on shippers with regard to the identity of their wares . . United States v. Johnson, 221 U. S. 488, 497-98.

The statute makes “any person” who violates § 301 (a) guilty of a “misdemeanor.” It specifically defines “person” to include “corporation.” § 201 (e). But the only way in which a corporation can act is through the individuals who act on its behalf. New York Central & H. R. R. Co. v. United States, 212 U. S. 481. And the historic conception of a “misdemeanor” makes all those responsible for it equally guilty, United States v. Mills, 7 Pet. 138, 141, a doctrine given general application in § 332 of the Penal Code (18 U. S. C. §550). If, then, Dotter-weich is not subject to the Act, it must be solely on the ground that individuals are immune when the “person” who violates § 301 (a) is a corporation, although from the point of view of action the individuals are the corporation. As a matter of legal development, it has taken time to establish criminal liability also for a corporation and not merely for its agents. See New York Central & H. R. R. Co. v. United States, supra. The history of federal food and drug legislation is a good illustration of the elaborate phrasing that was in earlier days deemed necessary to fasten criminal liability on corporations. Section 12 of the Food and Drugs Act of 1906 provided that, “the act, omission, or failure of any officer, agent, or other person *282acting for or employed by any corporation, company, society, or association, within the scope of his employment or office, shall in every case be also deemed to be the act, omission, or failure of such corporation, company, society, or association as well as that of the person.” By 1938, legal understanding and practice had rendered such statement of the obvious superfluous. Deletion of words — in the interest of brevity and good draftsmanship1 — superfluous for holding a corporation criminally liable can hardly be found ground for relieving from such liability the individual agents of the corporation. To hold that the Act of 1938 freed all individuals, except when proprietors, from the culpability under which the earlier legislation had placed them is to defeat the very object of the new Act. Nothing is clearer than that the later legislation was designed to enlarge and stiffen the penal net and not to narrow and loosen it. This purpose was unequivocally avowed by the two committees which reported the bills to the Congress. The House Committee reported that the Act “seeks to set up effective provisions against abuses of consumer welfare growing out of inadequacies in the Food and Drugs Act of June 30,1906.” (H. Rep. No. 2139,75th Cong., 3d Sess., p. 1.) And the Senate Committee explicitly pointed out that the new legislation “must not weaken the existing laws,” but on the contrary “it must strengthen and extend that law’s protection of the consumer.” (S. Rep. No. 152, 75th Cong., 1st Sess., p. 1.) If the 1938 Act were construed as it was below, the penalties of the law could be imposed only in the rare case where the corporation is merely an individual’s alter ego. Corporations carrying on an illicit trade would be subject only to what the House Committee described as a “license fee *283for the conduct of an illegitimate business.”2 A corporate officer, who even with “intent to defraud or mislead” (§ 303b), introduced adulterated or misbranded drugs into interstate commerce could not be held culpable for conduct which was indubitably outlawed by the 1906 Act. See, e. g., United States v. Mayfield, 177 F. 765. This argument proves too much. It is not credible that Congress should by implication have exonerated what is probably a preponderant number of persons involved in acts of disobedience — for the number of non-corporate proprietors is relatively small. Congress, of course, could reverse the process and hold only the corporation and allow its agents to escape. In very exceptional circumstances it may have required this result. See Sherman v. United States, 282 U. S. 25. But the history of the present Act, its purposes, its terms, and extended practical construction lead away from such a result once “we free our minds from the notion that criminal statutes must be construed by some artificial and conventional rule.” United States v. Union Supply Co., 215 U. S. 50, 55.

The Act is concerned not with the proprietory relation to a misbranded or an adulterated drug but with its distribution. In the case of a corporation such distribution must be accomplished, and may be furthered, by persons standing in various relations to the incorporeal proprietor. If a guaranty immunizes shipments of course it immunizes all involved in the shipment. But simply because if there had been a guaranty it would have been received by the proprietor, whether corporate or individual, as a safeguard for the enterprise, the want of a guaranty *284does not cut down the scope of responsibility of all who are concerned with transactions forbidden by § 301. To be sure, that casts the risk that there is no guaranty upon all who according to settled doctrines of criminal law are responsible for the commission of a misdemeanor. To read the guaranty section, as did the court below, so as to restrict liability for penalties to the only person who normally would receive a guaranty — the proprietor — disregards the admonition that “the meaning of a sentence is to be felt rather than to be proved.” United States v. Johnson, 221 U. S. 488, 496. It also reads an exception to an important provision safeguarding the public welfare with a liberality which more appropriately belongs to enforcement of the central purpose of the Act.

The Circuit Court of Appeals was evidently tempted to make such a devitalizing use of the guaranty provision through fear that an enforcement of § 301 (a) as written might operate too harshly by sweeping within its condemnation any person however remotely entangled in the proscribed shipment. But that is not the way to read legislation. Literalism and evisceration are equally to be avoided. To speak with technical accuracy, under § 301 a corporation may commit an offense and all persons who aid and abet its commission are equally guilty. Whether an accused shares responsibility in the business process resulting in unlawful distribution depends on the evidence produced at the trial and its submission — assuming the evidence warrants it — to the jury under appropriate guidance. The offense is committed, unless the enterprise which they are serving enjoys the immunity of a guaranty, by all who do have such a responsible share in the furtherance of the transaction which the statute outlaws, namely, to put into the stream of interstate commerce adulterated or misbranded drugs. Hardship there doubtless may be under a statute which thus penalizes the transaction though consciousness of wrongdoing be totally wanting. *285Balancing relative hardships, Congress has preferred to place it upon those who have at least the opportunity of informing themselves of the existence of conditions imposed for the protection of consumers before sharing in illicit commerce, rather than to throw the hazard on the innocent public who are wholly helpless.

It would be too treacherous to define or even to indicate by way of illustration the class of employees which stands in such a responsible relation. To attempt a formula embracing the variety of conduct whereby persons may responsibly contribute in furthering a transaction forbidden by an Act of Congress, to wit, to send illicit goods across state lines, would be mischievous futility. In such matters the good sense of prosecutors, the wise guidance of trial judges, and the ultimate judgment of juries must be trusted. Our system of criminal justice necessarily depends on “conscience and circumspection in prosecuting officers,” Nash v. United States, 229 U. S. 373, 378, even when the consequences are far more drastic than they are under the provision of law before us. See United States v. Balint, supra (involving a maximum sentence of five years). Eor present purpose it suffices to say that in what the defense characterized as “a very fair charge” the District Court properly left the question of the responsibility of Dotterweich for the shipment to the jury, and there was sufficient evidence to support its verdict.

Reversed.

Mr. Justice Murphy,

dissenting:

Our prime concern in this case is whether the criminal sanctions of the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act of 1938 plainly and unmistakably apply to the respondent in his capacity as a corporate officer. He is charged with violating § 301 (a) of the Act, which prohibits the introduction or delivery for introduction into interstate commerce of any adulterated or misbranded drug. There is *286no evidence in this case of any personal guilt on the part of the respondent. There is no proof or claim that he ever knew of the introduction into commerce of the adulterated drugs in question, much less that he actively participated in their introduction. Guilt is imputed to the respondent solely on the basis of his authority and responsibility as president and general manager of the corporation.

It is a fundamental principle of Anglo-Saxon jurisprudence that guilt is personal and that it ought not lightly to be imputed to a citizen who, like the respondent, has no evil intention or consciousness of wrongdoing. It may be proper to charge him with responsibility to the corporation and the stockholders for negligence and mismanagement. But in the absence of clear statutory authorization it is inconsistent with established canons of criminal law to rest liability on an act in which the accused did not participate and of which he had no personal knowledge. Before we place the stigma of a criminal conviction upon any such citizen the legislative mandate must be clear and unambiguous. Accordingly that which Chief Justice Marshall has called “the tenderness of the law for the rights of individuals” 1 entitles each person, regardless of economic or social status, to an unequivocal warning from the legislature as to whether hejs within the class of persons subject to vicarious liability. Congress cannot be deemed to have intended to punish anyone who is not “plainly and unmistakably” within the confines of the statute. United States v. Lacker, 134 U. S. 624, 628; United States v. Gradwell, 243 U. S. 476, 485.

Moreover, the fact that individual liability of corporate officers may be consistent with the policy and purpose of a public health and welfare measure does not authorize this Court to impose such liability where Congress has not *287clearly intended or actually done so. Congress alone has the power to define a crime and to specify the offenders. United States v. Wiltberger, 5 Wheat. 76, 95. It is not our function to supply any deficiencies in these respects, no matter how grave the consequences. Statutory policy and purpose are not constitutional substitutes for the requirement that the legislature specify with reasonable certainty those individuals it desires to place under the interdict of the Act. United States v. Harris, 177 U. S. 305; Sarlls v. United States, 152 U. S. 570.

Looking at the language actually used in this statute, we find a complete absence of any reference to corporate officers. There is merely a provision in § 303 (a) to the effect that “any person” inadvertently violating § 301 (a) shall be guilty of a misdemeanor. Section 201 (e) further defines “person” as including an “individual, partnership, corporation, and association.” 2 The fact that a corporate officer is both a “person” and an “individual” is not indicative of an intent to place vicarious liability on the officer. Such words must be read in light of their statutory environment.3 Only if Congress has otherwise specified an *288intent to place corporate officers within the ambit of the Act can they be said to be embraced within the meaning of the words “person” or “individual” as here used.

Nor does the clear imposition of liability on corporations reveal the necessary intent to place criminal sanctions on their officers. A corporation is not the necessary and inevitable equivalent of its officers for all purposes.4 In many respects it is desirable to distinguish the latter from the corporate entity and to impose liability only on the corporation. In this respect it is significant that this Court has never held the imposition of liability on a corporation sufficient, without more, to extend liability to its officers who have no consciousness of wrongdoing.5 Indeed, in a closely analogous situation, we have held that the vicarious personal liability of receivers in actual charge and control of a corporation could not be predicated on the statutory liability of a “company,” even when the policy and purpose of the enactment were consistent with personal liability. United States v. Harris, supra.6 It fol*289lows that express statutory provisions are necessary to satisfy the requirement that officers as individuals be given clear and unmistakable warning as to their vicarious personal liability. This Act gives no such warning.

This fatal hiatus in the Act is further emphasized by the ability of Congress, demonstrated on many occasions, to apply statutes in no uncertain terms to corporate officers as distinct from corporations.7 The failure to mention officers specifically is thus some indication of a desire to exempt them from liability. In fact the history *290of federal food and drug legislation is itself illustrative of this capacity for specification and lends strong support to the conclusion that Congress did not intend to impose liability on corporate officers in this particular Act.

Section 2 of the Federal Food and Drugs Act of 1906, as introduced and passed in the Senate, contained a provision to the effect that any violation of the Act by a corporation should be deemed to be the act of the officer responsible therefor and that such officer might be punished as though it were his personal act.8 This clear imposition of criminal responsibility on corporate officers, however, was not carried over into the statute as finally enacted. In its place appeared merely the provision that “when construing and enforcing the provisions of this Act, the act, omission, or failure of any officer, agent, or other person acting for or employed by any corporation . . . within the scope of his employment or office, shall in every case be also deemed to be the act, omission, or failure of such corporation ... as well as that of the person.” 9 This provision had the effect only of making corporations *291responsible for the illegal acts of their officers and proved unnecessary in view of the clarity of the law to that effect. New York Central & H. R. R. Co. v. United States, 212 U. S. 481.

The framers of the 1938 Act were aware that the 1906 Act was deficient in that it failed “to place responsibility properly upon corporate officers.” 10 In order “to provide the additional scope necessary to prevent the use of the corporate form as a shield to individual wrongdoers,”11 these framers inserted a clear provision that “whenever a corporation or association violates any of the provisions of this Act, such violation shall also be deemed to be a violation of the individual directors, officers, or agents of such corporation or association who authorized, ordered, or did any of the acts constituting, in whole or in part, such violation.”12 This paragraph, however, was deleted from the final version of the Act.

*292We cannot presume that this omission was inadvertent on the part of Congress. United States v. Harris, supra at 309. Even if it were, courts have no power to remedy so serious a defect, no matter how probable it otherwise may appear that Congress intended to include officers; “probability is not a guide which a court, in construing a penal statute, can safely take.” United States v. Wiltberger, supra at 105. But the framers of the 1938 Act had an intelligent comprehension of the inadequacies of the 1906 Act and of the unsettled state of the law. They recognized the necessity of inserting clear and unmistakable language in order to impose liability on corporate officers. It is thus unreasonable to assume that the omission of such language was due to a belief that the Act as it now stands was sufficient to impose liability on corporate officers. Such deliberate deletion is consistent only with an intent to allow such officers to remain free from criminal liability. Thus to apply the sanctions of this Act to the respondent would be contrary to the intent of Congress as expressed in the statutory language and in the legislative history.

The dangers inherent in any attempt to create liability without express Congressional intention or authorization are illustrated by this case. Without any legislative guides, we are confronted with the problem of determining precisely which officers, employees and agents of a corporation are to be subject to this Act by our fiat. To erect standards of responsibility is a difficult legislative task and the opinion of this Court admits that it is “too treacherous” and a “mischievous futility” for us to engage in such pursuits. But the only alternative is a blind resort to “the good sense of prosecutors, the wise guidance of trial judges, and the ultimate judgment of juries.” Yet that situation is precisely what our constitutional system sought to avoid. Reliance on the legislature to define crimes and criminals distinguishes our form of juris*293prudence from certain less desirable ones. The legislative power to restrain the liberty and to imperil the good reputation of citizens must not rest upon the variable attitudes and opinions of those charged with the duties of interpreting and enforcing the mandates of the law. I therefore cannot approve the decision of the Court in this case.

Mr. Justice Roberts, Mr. Justice Reed and Mr. Justice Rutledge join in this dissent.

Justice Thomas

delivered the opinion of the Court.

The National Firearms Act makes it unlawful for any person to possess a machinegun that is not properly registered with the Federal Government. Petitioner contends that, to convict him under the Act, the Government should have been required to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he knew the weapon he possessed had the characteristics that brought it within the statutory definition of a machinegun. We agree and accordingly reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals.

I

The National Firearms Act (Act), 26 U. S. C. §§5801-5872, imposes strict registration requirements on statutorily defined “firearms.” The Act includes within the term “firearm” a machinegun, § 5845(a)(6), and further defines a machinegun as “any weapon which shoots,... or can be readily restored to shoot, automatically more than one shot, without manual reloading, by a single function of the trigger,” § 5845(b). Thus, any fully automatic weapon is a “firearm” within the meaning of the Act.1 Under the Act, all firearms must be registered in the National Firearms Registration and Transfer Record maintained by the Secretary of the Treasury. § 5841. Section 5861(d) makes it a crime, punish*603able by up to 10 years in prison, see § 5871, for any person to possess a firearm that is not properly registered.

Upon executing a search warrant at petitioner’s home, local police and agents of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (BATF) recovered, among other things, an AR-15 rifle. The AR-15 is the civilian version of the military’s M-16 rifle, and is, unless modified, a semiautomatic weapon. The M-16, in contrast, is a selective fire rifle that allows the operator, by rotating a selector switch, to choose semiautomatic or automatic fire. Many M-16 parts are interchangeable with those in the AR-15 and can be used to convert the AR-15 into an automatic weapon. No doubt to inhibit such conversions, the AR-15 is manufactured with a metal stop on its receiver that will prevent an M-16 selector switch, if installed, from rotating to the fully automatic position. The metal stop on petitioner’s rifle, however, had been filed away, and the rifle had been assembled with an M-16 selector switch and several other M-16 internal parts, including a hammer, disconnector, and trigger. Suspecting that the AR-15 had been modified to be capable of fully automatic fire, BATF agents seized the weapon. Petitioner subsequently was indicted for unlawful possession of an unregistered machinegun in violation of § 5861(d).

At trial, BATF agents testified that when the AR-15 was tested, it fired more than one shot with a single pull of the trigger. It was undisputed that the weapon was not registered as required by § 5861(d). Petitioner testified that the rifle had never fired automatically when it was in his possession. He insisted that the AR-15 had operated only semiautomatically, and even then imperfectly, often requiring manual ejection of the spent casing and chambering of the next round. • According to petitioner, his alleged ignorance of any automatic firing capability should have shielded him from criminal liability for his failure to register the weapon. He requested the District Court to instruct the jury that, to establish a violation of § 5861(d), the Government must prove *604beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant “knew that the gun would fire fully automatically.” 1 App. to Brief for Appellant in No. 91-5033 (CA10), p. 42.

The District Court rejected petitioner’s proposed instruction and instead charged the jury as follows:

“The Government need not prove the defendant knows he’s dealing with a weapon possessing every last characteristic [which subjects it]2 to the regulation. It would be enough to prove he knows that he is dealing with a dangerous device of a type as would alert one to the likelihood of regulation.” Tr. 465.

Petitioner was convicted and sentenced to five years’ probation and a $5,000 fine.

The Court of Appeals affirmed. Relying on its decision in United States v. Mittleider, 835 F. 2d 769 (CA10 1987), cert. denied, 485 U. S. 980 (1988), the court concluded that the Government need not prove a defendant’s knowledge of a weapon’s physical properties to obtain a conviction under § 5861(d). 971 F. 2d 608, 612-613 (CA10 1992). We granted certiorari, 508 U. S. 939 (1993), to resolve a conflict in the Courts of Appeals concerning the mens rea required under § 5861(d).

II

A

Whether or not § 5861(d) requires proof that a defendant knew of the characteristics of his weapon that made it a “firearm” under the Act is a question of statutory construction. As we observed in Liparota v. United States, 471 U. S. 419 (1985), “[t]he definition of the elements of a criminal offense is entrusted to the legislature, particularly in the case of federal crimes, which are solely creatures of statute.” Id., at 424 (citing United States v. Hudson, 7 Cranch 32 *605(1812)). Thus, we have long recognized that determining the mental state required for commission of a federal crime requires “construction of the statute and . . . inference of the intent of Congress.” United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250, 253 (1922). See also Liparota, supra, at 423.

The language of the statute, the starting place in our inquiry, see Connecticut Nat. Bank v. Germain, 503 U. S. 249, 253-254 (1992), provides little explicit guidance in this case. Section 5861(d) is silent concerning the mens rea required for a violation. It states simply that “[i]t shall be unlawful for any person ... to receive or possess a firearm which is not registered to him in the National Firearms Registration and Transfer Record.” 26 U. S. C. § 5861(d). Nevertheless, silence on this point by itself does not necessarily suggest that Congress intended to dispense with a conventional mens rea element, which would require that the defendant know the facts that make his conduct illegal. See Balint, supra, at 251 (stating that traditionally, “scienter” was a necessary element in every crime). See also n. 3, infra. On the contrary, we must construe the statute in light of the background rules of the common law, see United States v. United States Gypsum Co., 438 U. S. 422, 436-437 (1978), in which the requirement of some mens rea for a crime is firmly embedded. As we have observed, “[t]he existence of a mens rea is the rule of, rather than the exception to, the principles of Anglo-American criminal jurisprudence.” Id., at 436 (internal quotation marks omitted). See also Morissette v. United States, 342 U. S. 246, 250 (1952) (“The contention that an injury can amount to a crime only when inflicted by intention is no provincial or transient notion. It is as universal and persistent in mature systems of law as belief in freedom of the human will and a consequent ability and duty of the normal individual to choose between good and evil”).

There can be no doubt that this established concept has influenced our interpretation of criminal statutes. Indeed, we have noted that the common-law rule requiring mens rea *606has been “followed in regard to statutory crimes even where the statutory definition did not in terms include it.” Balint, supra, at 251-252. Relying on the strength of the traditional rule, we have stated that offenses that require no mens rea generally are disfavored, Liparota, supra, at 426, and have suggested that some indication of congressional intent, express or implied, is required to dispense with mens rea as an element of a crime. Cf. United States Gypsum, supra, at 438; Morissette, supra, at 263.

According to the Government, however, the nature and purpose of the Act suggest that the presumption favoring mens rea does not apply to this case. The Government argues that Congress intended the Act to regulate and restrict the circulation of dangerous weapons. Consequently, in the Government’s view, this case fits in a line of precedent concerning what we have termed “public welfare” or “regulatory” offenses, in which we have understood Congress to impose a form of strict criminal liability through statutes that do not require the defendant to know the facts that make his conduct illegal. In construing such statutes, we have inferred from silence that Congress did not intend to require proof of mens rea to establish an offense.

For example, in Balint, we concluded that the Narcotic Act of 1914, which was intended in part to minimize the spread of addictive drugs by criminalizing undocumented sales of certain narcotics, required proof only that the defendant knew that he was selling drugs, not that he knew the specific items he had sold were “narcotics” within the ambit of the statute. See Balint, supra, at 254. Cf. United States v. Dotterweich, 320 U. S. 277, 281 (1943) (stating in dicta that a statute criminalizing the shipment of adulterated or misbranded drugs did not require knowledge that the items were misbranded or adulterated). As we explained in Dotterweich, Balint dealt with “a now familiar type of legislation whereby penalties serve as effective means of regulation. Such legislation dispenses with the conven*607tional requirement for criminal conduct — awareness of some wrongdoing.” 320 U. S., at 280-281. See also Morissette, supra, at 252-256.

Such public welfare offenses have been created by Congress, and recognized by this Court, in “limited circumstances.” United States Gypsum, supra, at 487. Typically, our cases recognizing such offenses involve statutes that regulate potentially harmful or injurious items. Cf. United States v. International Minerals & Chemical Corp., 402 U. S. 558, 564-565 (1971) (characterizing Balint and similar cases as involving statutes regulating “dangerous or deleterious devices or products or obnoxious waste materials”). In such situations, we have reasoned that as long as a defendant knows that he is dealing with a dangerous device of a character that places him “in responsible relation to a public danger,” Dotterweich, supra, at 281, he should be alerted to the probability of strict regulation, and we have assumed that in such cases Congress intended to place the burden on the defendant to “ascertain at his peril whether [his conduct] comes within the inhibition of the statute.” Balint, supra, at 254. Thus, we essentially have relied on the nature of the statute and the particular character of the items regulated to determine whether congressional silence concerning the mental element of the offense should be interpreted as dispensing with conventional mens rea requirements. See generally Morissette, supra, at 252-260.3

*608B

The Government argues that § 5861(d) defines precisely the sort of regulatory offense described in Balint. In this view, all guns, whether or not they are statutory “firearms,” are dangerous devices that put gun owners on notice that they must determine at their hazard whether their weapons come within the scope of the Act. On this understanding, the District Court’s instruction in this case was correct, because a conviction can rest simply on proof that a defendant knew he possessed a “firearm” in the ordinary sense of the term.

The Government seeks support for its position from our decision in United States v. Freed, 401 U. S. 601 (1971), which involved a prosecution for possession of unregistered grenades under § 5861(d).4 The defendant knew that the items in his possession were grenades, and we concluded that § 5861(d) did not require the Government to prove the defendant also knew that the grenades were unregistered. Id., at 609. To be sure, in deciding that mens rea was not required with respect to that element of the offense, we sug*609gested that the Act “is a regulatory measure in the interest of the public safety, which may well be premised on the theory that one would hardly be surprised to learn that possession of hand grenades is not an innocent act.” Ibid. Grenades, we explained, “are highly dangerous offensive weapons, no less dangerous than the narcotics involved in United States v. Balint.” Ibid. But that reasoning provides little support for dispensing with mens rea in this case.

As the Government concedes, Freed did not address the issue presented here. In Freed, we decided only that § 5861(d) does not require proof of knowledge that a firearm is unregistered. The question presented by a defendant who possesses a weapon that is a “firearm” for purposes of the Act, but who knows only that he has a “firearm” in the general sense of the term, was not raised or considered. And our determination that a defendant need not know that his weapon is unregistered suggests no conclusion concerning whether § 5861(d) requires the defendant to know of the features that make his weapon a statutory “firearm”; different elements of the same offense can require different mental states. See Liparota, 471 U. S., at 428, n. 5; United States v. Bailey, 444 U. S. 394, 405-406 (1980). See also W. La-Fave & A. Scott, Handbook on Criminal Law 194-195 (1972). Moreover, our analysis in Freed likening the Act to the public welfare statute in Balint rested entirely on the assumption that the defendant knew that he was dealing with hand grenades — that is, that he knew he possessed a particularly dangerous type of weapon (one within the statutory definition of a “firearm”), possession of which was not entirely “innocent” in and of itself. 401 U. S., at 609. The predicate for that analysis is eliminated when, as in this case, the very question to be decided is whether the defendant must know of the particular characteristics that make his weapon a statutory firearm.

Notwithstanding these distinctions, the Government urges that Freed’s logic applies because guns, no less than gre*610nades, are highly dangerous devices that should alert their owners to the probability of regulation. But the gap between Freed and this case is too wide to bridge. In glossing over the distinction between grenades and guns, the. Government ignores the particular care we have taken to avoid construing a statute to dispense with mens rea where doing so would “criminalize a broad range of apparently innocent conduct.” Liparota, 471 U. S., at 426. In Liparota, we considered a statute that made unlawful the unauthorized acquisition or possession of food stamps. We determined that the statute required proof that the defendant knew his possession of food stamps was unauthorized, largely because dispensing with such a mens rea requirement would have resulted in reading the statute to outlaw a number of apparently innocent acts. Ibid. Our conclusion that the statute should not be treated as defining a public welfare offense rested on the commonsense distinction that a “food stamp can hardly be compared to a hand grenade.” Id., at 433.

Neither, in our view, can all guns be compared to hand grenades. Although the contrast is certainly not as stark as that presented in Liparota, the fact remains that there is a long tradition of widespread lawful gun ownership by private individuals in this country. Such a tradition did not apply to the possession of hand grenades in Freed or to the selling of dangerous drugs that we considered in Balint. See also International Minerals, 402 U. S., at 563-565; Balint, 258 U. S., at 254. In fact, in Freed we construed § 5861(d) under the assumption that “one would hardly be surprised to learn that possession of hand grenades is not an innocent act.” Freed, supra, at 609. Here, the Government essentially suggests that we should interpret the section under the altogether different assumption that “one would hardly be surprised to learn that owning a gun is not an innocent act.” That proposition is simply not supported by common experience. Guns in general are not “deleterious devices or products or obnoxious waste materials,” International Minerals, *611supra, at 565, that put their owners on notice that they stand “in responsible relation to a public danger,” Dotterweich, 320 U. S., at 281.

The Government protests that guns, unlike food stamps, but like grenades and narcotics, are potentially harmful devices.5 Under this view, it seems that Liparota’s concern for criminalizing ostensibly innocuous conduct is inapplicable whenever an item is sufficiently dangerous — that is, dangerousness alone should alert an individual to probable regulation and justify treating a statute that regulates the dangerous device as dispensing with mens rea. But that an item is “dangerous,” in some general sense, does not necessarily suggest, as the Government seems to assume, that it is not also entirely innocent. Even dangerous items can, in some cases, be so commonplace and generally available that we would not consider them to alert individuals to the likelihood of strict regulation. As suggested above, despite their potential for harm, guns generally can be owned in perfect innocence. Of course, we might surely classify certain categories of guns — no doubt including the machineguns, sawed-off shotguns, and artillery pieces that Congress has subjected to *612regulation — as items the ownership of which would have the same quasi-suspect character we attributed to owning hand grenades in Freed. But precisely because guns falling outside those categories traditionally have been widely accepted as lawful possessions, their destructive potential, while perhaps even greater than that of some items we would classify along with narcotics and hand grenades, cannot be said to put gun owners sufficiently on notice of the likelihood of regulation to justify interpreting § 5861(d) as not requiring proof of knowledge of a weapon’s characteristics.6

*613On a slightly different tack, the Government suggests that guns are subject to an array of regulations at the federal, state, and local levels that put gun owners on notice that they must determine the characteristics of their weapons and comply with all legal requirements.7 But regulation in itself is not sufficient to place gun ownership in the category of the sale of narcotics in Balint. The food stamps at issue in Liparota were subject to comprehensive regulations, yet we did not understand the statute there to dispense with a mens rea requirement. Moreover, despite the overlay of legal restrictions on gun ownership, we question whether regulations on guns are sufficiently intrusive that they im-. pinge upon the common experience that owning a gun is usually licit and blameless conduct. Roughly 50 percent of *614American homes contain at least one firearm of some sort,8 and in the vast majority of States, buying a shotgun or rifle is a simple transaction that would not alert a person to regulation any more than would buying a car.9

If we were to accept as a general rule the Government’s suggestion that dangerous and regulated items place their owners under an obligation to inquire at their peril into compliance with regulations, we would undoubtedly reach some untoward results. Automobiles, for example, might also be termed “dangerous” devices and are highly regulated at both the state and federal levels. Congress might see fit to criminalize the violation of certain regulations concerning automobiles, and thus might make it a crime to operate a vehicle without a properly functioning emission control system. But we probably would hesitate to conclude on the basis of silence that Congress intended a prison term to apply to a car owner whose vehicle’s emissions levels, wholly unbeknownst to him, began to exceed legal limits between regular inspection dates.

Here, there can be little doubt that, as in Liparota, the Government’s construction of the statute potentially would impose criminal sanctions on a class of persons whose mental state — ignorance of the characteristics of weapons in their *615possession — makes their actions entirely innocent.10 The Government does not dispute the contention that virtually any semiautomatic weapon may be converted, either by internal modification or, in some cases, simply by wear and tear, into a machinegun within the meaning of the Act. Cf. United States v. Anderson, 885 F. 2d 1248, 1251, 1253-1254 (CA5 1989) (en banc). Such a gun may give no externally visible indication that it is fully automatic. See United States v. Herbert, 698 F. 2d 981, 986 (CA9), cert. denied, 464 U. S. 821 (1983). But in the Government’s view, any person who has purchased what he believes to be a semiautomatic rifle or handgun, or who simply has inherited a gun from a relative and left it untouched in an attic or basement, can be subject to imprisonment, despite absolute ignorance of the gun’s firing capabilities, if the gun turns out to be an automatic.

We concur in the Fifth Circuit’s conclusion on this point: “It is unthinkable to us that Congress intended to subject such law-abiding, well-intentioned citizens to a possible ten-year term of imprisonment if . . . what they genuinely and reasonably believed was a conventional semi-automatic [weapon] turns out to have worn down into or been secretly modified to be a fully automatic weapon.” Anderson, supra, at 1254. As we noted in Morissette, the “purpose and obvious effect of doing away with the requirement of a guilty intent is to ease the prosecution’s path to conviction.” 342 U. S., at 263.11 We are reluctant to impute that purpose to *616Congress where, as here, it would mean easing the path to convicting persons whose conduct would not even alert them to the probability of strict regulation in the form of a statute such as § 5861(d).

C

The potentially harsh penalty attached to violation of § 5861(d) — up to 10 years’ imprisonment — confirms our reading of the Act. Historically, the penalty imposed under a statute has been a significant consideration in determining whether the statute should be construed as dispensing with mens rea. Certainly, the cases that first defined the concept of the public welfare offense almost uniformly involved statutes that provided for only light penalties such as fines or short jail sentences, not imprisonment in the state penitentiary. See, e. g., Commonwealth v. Raymond, 97 Mass. 567 (1867) (fine of up to $200 or six months in jail, or both); Commonwealth v. Fatten, 91 Mass. 489 (1864) (fine); People v. Snowburger, 113 Mich. 86, 71 N. W. 497 (1897) (fine of up to $500 or incarceration in county jail).12

As commentators have pointed out, the small penalties attached to such offenses logically complemented the absence of a mens tea requirement: In a system that generally re*617quires a “vicious will” to establish a crime, 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *21, imposing severe punishments for offenses that require no mens rea would seem incongruous. See Sayre, Public Welfare Offenses, 33 Colum. L. Rev. 55, 70 (1933). Indeed, some courts justified the absence of mens rea in part on the basis that the offenses did not bear the same punishments as “infamous crimes,” Tenement House Dept. v. McDevitt, 215 N. Y. 160, 168, 109 N. E. 88, 90 (1915) (Cardozo, J.), and questioned whether imprisonment was compatible with the reduced culpability required for such regulatory offenses. See, e. g., People ex rel. Price v. Sheffield Farms-Slawson-Decker Co., 225 N. Y. 25, 32-33, 121 N. E. 474, 477 (1918) (Cardozo, J.); id., at 35, 121 N. E., at 478 (Crane, J., concurring) (arguing that imprisonment for a crime that requires no mens rea would stretch the law regarding acts mala prohibita beyond its limitations).13 Similarly, commentators collecting the early cases have argued that offenses punishable by imprisonment cannot be understood to be public welfare offenses, but must require mens rea. See R. Perkins, Criminal Law 793-798 (2d ed. 1969) (suggesting that the penalty should be the starting point in determining whether a statute describes a public welfare offense); Sayre, supra, at 72 (“Crimes punishable with prison sentences . . . ordinarily require proof of a guilty intent”).14

In rehearsing the characteristics of the public welfare offense, we, too, have included in our consideration the punishments imposed and have noted that “penalties commonly are relatively small, and conviction does no grave damage to an *618offender’s reputation.” Morissette, 342 U. S., at 256.15 We have even recognized that it was “[u]nder such considerations” that courts have construed statutes to dispense with mens rea. Ibid.

Our characterization of the public welfare offense in Morissette hárdly seems apt, however, for a crime that is a felony, as is violation of § 5861(d).16 After all, “felony” is, as we noted in distinguishing certain common-law crimes from public welfare offenses, “ ‘as bad a word as you can give to man or thing.’” Id., at 260 (quoting 2 F. Pollock & F. Maitland, History of English Law 465 (2d ed. 1899)). Close adherence to the early cases described above might suggest that punishing a violation as a felony is simply incompatible with the theory of the public welfare offense. In this view, absent a clear statement from Congress that mens rea is not required, we should not apply the public welfare offense rationale to interpret any statute defining a felony offense as dispensing with mens rea. But see United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250 (1922).

We need not adopt such a definitive rule of construction to decide this case, however. Instead, we note only that where, as here, dispensing with mens rea would require the defendant to have knowledge only of traditionally lawful conduct, a severe penalty is a further factor tending to suggest that Congress did not intend to eliminate a mens rea require*619ment. In such a case, the usual presumption that a defendant must know the facts that make his conduct illegal should apply.

Ill

In short, we conclude that the background rule of the common law favoring mens rea should govern interpretation of § 5861(d) in this case. Silence does not suggest that Congress dispensed with mens rea for the element of § 5861(d) at issue here. Thus, to obtain a conviction, the Government should have been required to prove that petitioner knew of the features of his AR-15 that brought it within the scope of the Act.17

We emphasize that our holding is a narrow one. As in our prior cases, our reasoning depends upon a commonsense evaluation of the nature of the particular device or substance Congress has subjected to regulation and the expectations that individuals may legitimately have in dealing with the regulated items. In addition, we think that the penalty attached to § 5861(d) suggests that Congress did not intend to eliminate a mens rea requirement for violation of the section. As we noted in Morissette: “Neither this Court nor, *620so far as we are aware, any other has undertaken to delineate a precise line or set forth comprehensive criteria for distinguishing between crimes that require a mental element and crimes that do not.” 342 U. S., at 260. We attempt no definition here, either. We note only that our holding depends critically on our view that if Congress had intended to make outlaws of gun owners who were wholly ignorant of the offending characteristics of their weapons, and to subject them to lengthy prison terms, it would have spoken more clearly to that effect. Cf. United States v. Harris, 959 F. 2d 246, 261 (CADC), cert. denied, 506 U. S. 932 (1992).

For the foregoing reasons, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

So ordered.

Justice Ginsburg,

with whom Justice O’Connor joins,

concurring in the judgment.

The statute petitioner Harold E. Staples is charged with violating, 26 U. S. C. § 5861(d), makes it a crime for any person to “receive or possess a firearm which is not registered to him.” Although the word “knowingly” does not appear in the statute’s text, courts generally assume that Congress, absent a contrary indication, means to retain a mens rea requirement. Ante, at 606; see Liparota v. United States, 471 U. S. 419, 426 (1985); United States v. United States Gypsum Co., 438 U. S. 422, 437-438 (1978).1 Thus, our holding in United States v. Freed, 401 U. S. 601 (1971), that § 5861(d) does not require proof of knowledge that the firearm is unregistered, rested on the premise that the defendant indeed *621knew the items he possessed were hand grenades. Id., at 607; id., at 612 (Brennan, J., concurring in judgment) (“The Government and the Court agree that the prosecutor must prove knowing possession of the items and also knowledge that the items possessed were hand grenades.”).

Conviction under § 5861(d), the Government accordingly concedes, requires proof that Staples “knowingly” possessed the machinegun. Brief for United States 23. The question before us is not whether knowledge of possession is required, but what level of knowledge suffices: (1) knowledge simply of possession of the object; (2) knowledge, in addition, that the object is a dangerous weapon; (3) knowledge, beyond dangerousness, of the characteristics that render the object subject to regulation, for example, awareness that the weapon is a machinegun.2

Recognizing that the first reading effectively dispenses with mens rea, the Government adopts the second, contending that it avoids criminalizing “apparently innocent conduct,” Liparota, supra, at 426, because under the second reading, “a defendant who possessed what he thought was a toy or a violin case, but which in fact was a machinegun, could not be convicted.” Brief for United States 23. The Government, however, does not take adequate account of the “widespread lawful gun ownership” Congress and the States have allowed to persist in this country. See United States v. Harris, 959 F. 2d 246, 261 (CADC) (per curiam), cert. denied, 506 U. S. 932 (1992). Given the notable lack of comprehensive regulation, “mere unregistered possession of certain types of [regulated weapons] — often [difficult to dis*622tinguish] from other, [nonregulated] types,” has been held inadequate to establish the requisite knowledge. See 959 F. 2d, at 261.

The Nation’s legislators chose to place under a registration requirement only a very limited class of firearms, those they considered especially dangerous. The generally “dangerous” character of all guns, the Court therefore observes, ante, at 611-612, did not suffice to give individuals in Staples’ situation cause to inquire about the need for registration. Cf. United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250 (1922) (requiring reporting of sale of strictly regulated narcotics, opium and cocaine). Only the third reading, then, suits the purpose of the mens rea requirement — to shield people against punishment for apparently innocent activity.3

The indictment in Staples’ case charges that he “knowingly received and possessed firearms.” 1 App. to Brief for Appellant in No. 91-5033 (CA10), p. I.4 “Firearms” has a *623circumscribed statutory definition. See 26 U. S. C. § 5845(a). The “firear[m]” the Government contends Staples possessed in violation of § 5861(d) is a machinegun. See § 5845(a)(6). The indictment thus effectively charged that Staples knowingly possessed a machinegun. “Knowingly possessed” logically means “possessed and knew that he possessed.” The Government can reconcile the jury instruction5 with the indictment only on the implausible assumption that the term “firear[m]” has two different meanings when used once in the same charge — simply “gun” when referring to what petitioner knew, and “machinegun” when referring to what he possessed. See Cunningham, Levi, Green, & Kaplan, Plain Meaning and Hard Cases, 103 Yale L. J. 1561, 1576-1577 (1994); cf. Ratzlaf v. United States, 510 U. S. 135, 143 (1994) (construing statutory term to bear same meaning “each time it is called into play”).

For these reasons, I conclude that conviction under § 5861(d) requires proof that the defendant knew he possessed not simply a gun, but a machinegun. The indictment in this case, but not the jury instruction, properly described this knowledge requirement. I therefore concur in the Court’s judgment.

*624Justice Stevens,

with whom Justice Blackmun joins,

dissenting.

To avoid a slight possibility of injustice to unsophisticated owners of machineguns and sawed-off shotguns, the Court has substituted its views of sound policy for the judgment Congress made when it enacted the National Firearms Act (or Act). Because the Court’s addition to the text of 26 U. S. C. § 5861(d) is foreclosed by both the statute and our precedent, I respectfully dissent.

The Court is preoccupied with guns that “generally can be owned in perfect innocence.” Ante, at 611. This case, however, involves a semiautomatic weapon that was readily convertible into a machinegun — a weapon that the jury found to be “ ‘a dangerous device of a type as would alert one to the likelihood of regulation.’” Ante, at 604. These are not guns “of some sort” that can be found in almost “50 percent of American homes.” Ante, at 613-614.1 They are particularly dangerous — indeed, a substantial percentage of the unregistered machineguns now in circulation are converted semiautomatic weapons.2

The question presented is whether the National Firearms Act imposed on the Government the burden of proving beyond a reasonable doubt not only that the defendant knew he possessed a dangerous device sufficient to alert him to *625regulation, but also that he knew it had all the characteristics of a “firearm” as defined in the statute. Three unambiguous guideposts direct us to the correct answer to that question: the text and structure of the Act, our cases construing both this Act and similar regulatory legislation, and the Act’s history and interpretation.

I

Contrary to the assertion by the Court, the text of the statute does provide “explicit guidance in this case.” Cf. ante, at 605. The relevant section of the Act makes it “unlawful for any person ... to receive or possess a firearm which is not registered to him in the National Firearms Registration and Transfer Record.” 26 U. S. C. § 5861(d). Significantly, the section contains no knowledge requirement, nor does it describe a common-law crime.

The common law generally did not condemn acts as criminal unless the actor had “an evil purpose or mental culpability,” Morissette v. United States, 342 U. S. 246, 252 (1952), and was aware of all the facts that made the conduct unlawful, United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250, 251-252 (1922). In interpreting statutes that codified traditional common-law offenses, courts usually followed this rule, even when the text of the statute contained no such requirement. Ibid. Because the offense involved in this case is entirely a creature of statute, however, “the background rules of the common law,” cf. ante, at 605, do not require a particular construction, and critically different rules of construction apply. See Morissette v. United States, 342 U. S., at 252-260.

In Morissette, Justice Jackson outlined one such interpretive rule:

“Congressional silence as to mental elements in an Act merely adopting into federal statutory law a concept of crime already ... well defined in common law and statutory interpretation by the states may warrant quite contrary inferences than the same silence in creating an of*626fense new to general law, for whose definition the courts have no guidance except the Act.” Id., at 262.

Although the lack of an express knowledge requirement in § 5861(d) is not dispositive, see United States v. United States Gypsum Co., 438 U. S. 422, 438 (1978), its absence suggests that Congress did not intend to require proof that the defendant knew all of the facts that made his conduct illegal.3

The provision’s place in the overall statutory scheme, see Crandon v. United States, 494 U. S. 152, 158 (1990), confirms this intention. In 1934, when Congress originally enacted the statute, it limited the coverage of the 1934 Act to a relatively narrow category of weapons such as submachineguns and sawed-off shotguns — weapons characteristically used only by professional gangsters like A1 Capone, Pretty Boy Floyd, and their henchmen.4 At the time, the Act would have had little application to guns used by hunters or guns kept at home as protection against unwelcome intruders.5 *627Congress therefore could reasonably presume that a person found in possession of an unregistered machinegun or sawed-off shotgun intended to use it for criminal purposes. The statute as a whole, and particularly the decision to criminalize mere possession, reflected a legislative judgment that the likelihood of innocent possession of such an unregistered weapon was remote, and far less significant than the interest in depriving gangsters of their use.

In addition, at the time of enactment, this Court had already construed comparable provisions of the Harrison Anti-Narcotic Act not to require proof of knowledge of all the facts that constitute the proscribed offense. United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250 (1922).6 Indeed, Attorney General Cummings expressly advised Congress that the text of the gun control legislation deliberately followed the language of the Anti-Narcotic Act to reap the benefit of cases construing it.7 Given the reasoning of Balint, we properly may infer that Congress did not intend the Court to read a stricter knowledge requirement into the gun control legislation than we read into the Anti-Narcotic Act. Cannon v. University of Chicago, 441 U. S. 677, 698-699 (1979).

Like the 1934 Act, the current National Firearms Act is primarily a regulatory measure. The statute establishes *628taxation, registration, reporting, and recordkeeping requirements for businesses and transactions involving statutorily defined firearms, and requires that each firearm be identified by a serial number. 26 U. S. C. §§5801-5802, 5811-5812, 5821-5822, 5842-5843. The Secretary of the Treasury must maintain a central registry that includes the names and addresses of persons in possession of all firearms not controlled by the Government. § 5841. Congress also prohibited certain acts and omissions, including the possession of an unregistered firearm.8 § 5861.

As the Court acknowledges, ante, at 607, to interpret statutory offenses such as § 5861(d), we look to “the nature of the statute and the particular character of the items regulated” to determine the level of knowledge required for conviction. An examination of § 5861(d) in light of our precedent dictates that the crime of possession of an unregistered machinegun is in a category of offenses described as “public welfare” crimes.9 Our decisions interpreting such offenses clearly require affirmance of petitioner’s conviction.

II

“Public welfare” offenses share certain characteristics: (1) they regulate “dangerous or deleterious devices or products *629or obnoxious waste materials,” see United States v. International Minerals & Chemical Corp., 402 U. S. 558, 565 (1971); (2) they “heighten the duties of those in control of particular industries, trades, properties or activities that affect public health, safety or welfare,” Morissette, 342 U. S., at 254; and (3) they “depend on no mental element but consist only of forbidden acts or omissions,” id., at 252-253. Examples of such offenses include Congress’ exertion of its power to keep dangerous narcotics,10 hazardous substances,11 and impure and adulterated foods and drugs12 out of the channels of commerce.13

Public welfare statutes render criminal “a type of conduct that a reasonable person should know is subject to stringent public regulation and may seriously threaten the community’s health or safety.” Liparota v. United States, 471 U. S. 419, 433 (1985). Thus, under such statutes, “a defendant can be convicted even though he was unaware of the circumstances of his conduct that made it illegal.” Id., at 443, n. 7 (White, J., dissenting). Referring to the strict criminal sanctions for unintended violations of the food and drug laws, Justice Frankfurter wrote:

“The purposes of this legislation thus touch phases of the lives and health of people which, in the circumstances of modern industrialism, are largely beyond self-protection. Regard for these purposes should in*630fuse construction of the legislation if it is to be treated as a working instrument of government and not merely as a collection of English words. The prosecution . . . is based on a now familiar type of legislation whereby penalties serve as effective means of regulation. Such legislation dispenses with the conventional requirement for criminal conduct — awareness of some wrongdoing. In the interest of the larger good it puts the burden of acting at hazard upon a person otherwise innocent but standing in responsible relation to a public danger.” United States v. Dotterweich, 320 U. S. 277, 280-281 (1943) (citing United States v. Balint, 258 U. S. 250 (1922); other citations omitted).

The National Firearms Act unquestionably is a public welfare statute. United States v. Freed, 401 U. S. 601, 609 (1971) (holding that this statute “is a.regulatory measure in the interest of the public safety”). Congress fashioned a legislative scheme to regulate the commerce and possession of certain types of dangerous devices, including specific kinds of weapons, to protect the health and welfare of the citizenry. To enforce this scheme, Congress created criminal penalties for certain acts and omissions. The text of some of these offenses — including the one at issue here— contains no knowledge requirement.

The Court recognizes:

“[W]e have reasoned that as long as a defendant knows that he is dealing with a dangerous device of a character that places him ‘in responsible relation to a public danger/ Dotterweich, supra, at 281, he should be alerted to the probability of strict regulation, and we have assumed that in such cases Congress intended to place the burden on the defendant to ‘ascertain at his peril whether [his conduct] comes within the inhibition of the statute.’ Balint, 258 U. S., at 254.” Ante, at 607.

*631We thus have read a knowledge requirement into public welfare crimes, but not a requirement that the defendant know all the facts that make his conduct illegal. Although the Court acknowledges this standard, it nevertheless concludes that a gun is not the type of dangerous device that would alert one to the possibility of regulation.

Both the Court and Justice Ginsburg erroneously rely upon the “traditional]” innocence of gun ownership to find that Congress must have intended the Government to prove knowledge of all the characteristics that make a weapon a statutory “firear[m].” Ante, at 610-612; ante, at 621-622 (Ginsburg, J., concurring in judgment). We held in Freed, however, that a § 5861(d) offense may be committed by one with no awareness of either wrongdoing or of all the facts that constitute the offense.14 401 U. S., at 607-610. Nevertheless, the Court, asserting that the Government “gloss[es] over the distinction between grenades and guns,” determines that “the gap between Freed and this case is too wide to bridge.” Ante, at 610. As such, the Court instead reaches the rather surprising conclusion that guns are more analogous to food stamps than to hand grenades.15 Even if *632one accepts that dubious proposition, the Court founds it upon a faulty premise: its mischaracterization of the Government’s submission as one contending that “all guns . . . are dangerous devices that put gun owners on notice . . . Ante, at 608 (emphasis added).16 Accurately identified, the Government’s position presents the question whether guns such as the one possessed by petitioner “ ‘are highly dangerous offensive weapons, no less dangerous than the narcotics’ ” in Balint or the hand grenades in Freed, see ante, at 609 (quoting Freed, 401 U. S., at 609).17

*633Thus, even assuming that the Court is correct that the mere possession of an ordinary rifle or pistol does not entail sufficient danger to alert one to the possibility of regulation, that conclusion does not resolve this case. Petitioner knowingly possessed a semiautomatic weapon that was readily convertible into a machinegun. The “‘character and nature’ ” of such a weapon is sufficiently hazardous to place the possessor on notice of the possibility of regulation. See Posters ‘N’ Things, Ltd. v. United States, ante, at 525 (citation omitted).18 No significant difference exists between *634imposing upon the possessor a duty to determine whether such a weapon is registered, Freed, 401 U. S., at 607-610, and imposing a duty to determine whether that weapon has been converted into a machinegun.

Cases arise, of course, in which a defendant would not know that a device was dangerous unless he knew that it was a “firearm” as defined in the Act. Freed was such a case; unless the defendant knew that the device in question was a hand grenade, he would not necessarily have known that it was dangerous. But given the text and nature of the statute, it would be utterly implausible to suggest that Congress intended the owner of a sawed-off shotgun to be criminally liable if he knew its barrel was 17.5 inches long but not if he mistakenly believed the same gun had an 18-inch barrel. Yet the Court’s holding today assumes that Congress intended that bizarre result.

The enforcement of public welfare offenses always entails some possibility of injustice. Congress nevertheless has repeatedly decided that an overriding public interest in health or safety may outweigh that risk when a person is dealing with products that are sufficiently dangerous or deleterious to make it reasonable to presume that he either knows, or should know, whether those products conform to special regulatory requirements. The dangerous character of the product is reasonably presumed to provide sufficient notice of the probability of regulation to justify strict enforcement against those who are merely guilty of negligent, rather than willful, misconduct.

The National Firearms Act is within the category of public welfare statutes enacted by Congress to regulate highly dangerous items. The Government submits that a conviction under such a statute may be supported by proof that the *635defendant “knew the item at issue was highly dangerous and of a type likely to be subject to regulation.” Brief for United States 9.19 It is undisputed that the evidence in this case met that standard. Nevertheless, neither Justice Thomas for the Court nor Justice Ginsburg has explained why such a knowledge requirement is unfaithful to our cases or to the text of the Act.20 Instead, following the approach of their decision in United States v. Harris, 959 F. 2d 246, 260-261 (CADC) (per curiam), cert. denied sub nom. Smith v. United States, 506 U. S. 932 (1992), they have simply explained why, in their judgment, it would be unfair to punish the possessor of this machinegun.

Ill

The history and interpretation of the National Firearms Act supports the conclusion that Congress did not intend to *636require knowledge of all the facts that constitute the offense of possession of an unregistered weapon. During the first 30 years of enforcement of the 1934 Act, consistent with the absence of a knowledge requirement and with the reasoning in Balint, courts uniformly construed it not to require knowledge of all the characteristics of the weapon that brought it within the statute. In a case decided in 1963, then-judge Blackmun reviewed the earlier cases and concluded that the defendant’s knowledge that he possessed a gun was “all the scienter which the statute requires.” Sipes v. United States, 321 F. 2d 174, 179 (CA8), cert. denied, 375 U. S. 913 (1963).

Congress subsequently amended the statute twice, once in 1968 and again in 1986. Both amendments added knowledge requirements to other portions of the Act,21 but neither the text nor the history of either amendment discloses an intent to add any other knowledge requirement to the possession of an unregistered firearm offense. Given that, with only one partial exception,22 every federal tribunal to address the question had concluded that proof of knowledge of all the facts constituting a violation was not required for a convic*637tion under § 5861(d),23 we may infer that Congress intended that interpretation to survive. See Lorillard v. Pons, 434 U. S. 575, 580 (1978).

In short, petitioner’s knowledge that he possessed an item that was sufficiently dangerous to alert him to the likelihood of regulation would have supported a conviction during the first half century of enforcement of this statute. Unless application of that standard to a particular case violates the Due Process Clause,24 it is the responsibility of Congress, not this Court, to amend the statute if Congress deems it unfair or unduly strict.

IV

On the premise that the purpose of the mens rea requirement is to avoid punishing people “for apparently innocent activity,” Justice Ginsburg concludes that proof of knowledge that a weapon is “‘a dangerous device of a type as would alert one to the likelihood of regulation’” is not an adequate mens rea requirement, but that proof of knowledge that the weapon possesses “ ‘every last characteristic’ ” that subjects it to regulation is. Ante, at 622-623, and n. 5 (Ginsburg, J., concurring in judgment) (quoting the trial court’s jury instruction).

*638Assuming that “innocent activity” describes conduct without any consciousness of wrongdoing, the risk of punishing such activity can be avoided only by reading into the statute the common-law concept of mens rea: “an evil purpose or mental culpability.” Morissette, 342 U. S., at 252.25 But even petitioner does not contend that the Government must prove guilty intent or intentional wrongdoing. Instead, the “mens rea” issue in this case is simply what knowledge requirement, if any, Congress implicitly included in this offense. There are at least five such possible knowledge requirements, four of which entail the risk that a completely innocent mistake will subject a defendant to punishment.

First, a defendant may know that he possesses a weapon with all of the characteristics that make it a “firearm” within the meaning of the statute and also know that it has never been registered, but be ignorant of the federal registration requirement. In such a case, we presume knowledge of the law even if we know the defendant is “innocent” in the sense that Justice Ginsburg uses the word. Second, a defendant may know that he possesses a weapon with all of the characteristics of a statutory firearm and also know that the law requires that it be registered, but mistakenly believe that it is in fact registered. Freed squarely holds that this defendant’s “innocence” is not a defense. Third, a defendant *639may know only that he possesses a weapon with all of the characteristics of a statutory firearm. Neither ignorance of the registration requirement nor ignorance of the fact that the weapon is unregistered protects this “innocent” defendant. Fourth, a defendant may know that he possesses a weapon that is sufficiently dangerous to likely be regulated, but not know that it has all the characteristics of a statutory firearm. Petitioner asserts that he is an example of this “innocent” defendant. Fifth, a defendant may know that he possesses an ordinary gun and, being aware of the widespread lawful gun ownership in the country, reasonably assume that there is no need “to inquire about the need for registration.” Ante, at 622 (Ginsburg, J., concurring in judgment). That, of course, is not this case. See swpra, at 624, and n. I.26

Justice Ginsburg treats the first, second, and third alternatives differently from the fourth and fifth. Her acceptance of knowledge of the characteristics of a statutory “firearm” as a sufficient predicate for criminal liability — despite ignorance of either the duty to register or the fact of nonregistration, or both — must rest on the premise that such knowledge would alert the owner to the likelihood of regulation, thereby depriving the conduct of its “apparen[t] innocen[ce].” Yet in the fourth alternative, a jury determines just such knowledge: that the characteristics of the weapon known to the defendant would alert the owner to the likelihood of regulation.

In short, Justice Ginsburg’s reliance on “the purpose of the mens rea requirement — to shield people against punishment for apparently innocent activity,” ante, at 622, neither explains why ignorance of certain facts is a defense although *640ignorance of others is not, nor justifies her disagreement with the jury’s finding that this defendant knew facts that should have caused him to inquire about the need for registration.27

V

This case presents no dispute about the dangerous character of machineguns and sawed-off shotguns. Anyone in possession of such a weapon is “standing in responsible relation to a public danger.” See Dotterweich, 320 U. S., at 281 (citation omitted). In the National Firearms Act, Congress determined that the serious threat to health and safety posed by the private ownership of such firearms warranted the imposition of a duty on the owners of dangerous weapons to determine whether their possession is lawful. Semiautomatic weapons that are readily convertible into machineguns are sufficiently dangerous to alert persons who knowingly possess them to the probability of stringent public regulation. The jury’s finding that petitioner knowingly possessed “a dangerous device of a type as would alert one to the likelihood of regulation” adequately supports the conviction.

Accordingly, I would affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals.