4 Part IV: Normative Theories of Statutory Interpretation: Institutional Roles 4 Part IV: Normative Theories of Statutory Interpretation: Institutional Roles

4.1 WEEK 10: Statutory Interpretation as Democracy (Legitimate Use of Judicial Power?) 4.1 WEEK 10: Statutory Interpretation as Democracy (Legitimate Use of Judicial Power?)

4.1.1 Brnovich v. Democratic National Committee 4.1.1 Brnovich v. Democratic National Committee

Opinion [Link]

Argument [Link]

SCOTUSblog Case Page [Link]

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

Syllabus

BRNOVICH, ATTORNEY GENERAL OF ARIZONA, et al. v. DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE et al.

certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the ninth circuit

No. 19–1257. Argued March 2, 2021—Decided July 1, 2021[1]

Arizona law generally makes it very easy to vote. Voters may cast their ballots on election day in person at a traditional precinct or a “voting center” in their county of residence. Ariz. Rev. Stat. §16–411(B)(4). Arizonans also may cast an “early ballot” by mail up to 27 days before an election, §§16–541, 16–542(C), and they also may vote in person at an early voting location in each county, §§16–542(A), (E). These cases involve challenges under §2 of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 (VRA) to aspects of the State’s regulations governing precinct-based election-day voting and early mail-in voting. First, Arizonans who vote in person on election day in a county that uses the precinct system must vote in the precinct to which they are assigned based on their address. See §16–122; see also §16–135. If a voter votes in the wrong precinct, the vote is not counted. Second, for Arizonans who vote early by mail, Arizona House Bill 2023 (HB 2023) makes it a crime for any person other than a postal worker, an elections official, or a voter’s caregiver, family member, or household member to knowingly collect an early ballot—either before or after it has been completed. §§16–1005(H)–(I).

The Democratic National Committee and certain affiliates filed suit, alleging that both the State’s refusal to count ballots cast in the wrong precinct and its ballot-collection restriction had an adverse and disparate effect on the State’s American Indian, Hispanic, and African-American citizens in violation of §2 of the VRA. Additionally, they alleged that the ballot-collection restriction was “enacted with discriminatory intent” and thus violated both §2 of the VRA and the Fifteenth Amendment. The District Court rejected all of the plaintiffs’ claims. The court found that the out-of-precinct policy had no “meaningfully disparate impact” on minority voters’ opportunities to elect representatives of their choice. Turning to the ballot-collection restriction, the court found that it was unlikely to cause “a meaningful inequality” in minority voters’ electoral opportunities and that it had not been enacted with discriminatory intent. A divided panel of the Ninth Circuit affirmed, but the en banc court reversed. It first concluded that both the out-of-precinct policy and the ballot-collection restriction imposed a disparate burden on minority voters because they were more likely to be adversely affected by those rules. The en banc court also held that the District Court had committed clear error in finding that the ballot-collection law was not enacted with discriminatory intent.

Held: Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy and HB 2023 do not violate §2 of the VRA, and HB 2023 was not enacted with a racially discriminatory purpose. Pp. 12–37.

(a) Two threshold matters require the Court’s attention. First, the Court rejects the contention that no petitioner has Article III standing to appeal the decision below as to the out-of-precinct policy. All that is needed to entertain an appeal of that issue is one party with standing. Little Sisters of the Poor Saints Peter and Paul Home v. Pennsylvania, 591 U. S. ___, ___, n. 6. Attorney General Brnovich, as an authorized representative of the State (which intervened below) in any action in federal court, fits the bill. See Virginia House of Delegates v. Bethune-Hill, 587 U. S. ___, ___. Second, the Court declines in these cases to announce a test to govern all VRA §2 challenges to rules that specify the time, place, or manner for casting ballots. It is sufficient for present purposes to identify certain guideposts that lead to the Court’s decision in these cases. Pp. 12–13.

(b) The Court’s statutory interpretation starts with a careful consideration of the text. Pp. 13–25.

(1) The Court first construed the current version of §2 in Thornburg v. Gingles, 478 U.S. 30, which was a vote-dilution case where the Court took its cue from §2’s legislative history. The Court’s many subsequent vote-dilution cases have followed the path Gingles charted. Because the Court here considers for the first time how §2 applies to generally applicable time, place, or manner voting rules, it is appropriate to take a fresh look at the statutory text. Pp. 13–14.

(2) In 1982, Congress amended the language in §2 that had been interpreted to require proof of discriminatory intent by a plurality of the Court in Mobile v. Bolden, 446 U.S. 55. In place of that language, §2(a) now uses the phrase “in a manner which results in a denial or abridgement of the right . . . to vote on account of race or color.” Section 2(b) in turn explains what must be shown to establish a §2 violation. Section 2(b) states that §2 is violated only where “the political processes leading to nomination or election” are not “equally open to participation” by members of the relevant protected group “in that its members have less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice.” (Emphasis added.) In §2(b), the phrase “in that” is “used to specify the respect in which a statement is true.” New Oxford American Dictionary 851. Thus, equal openness and equal opportunity are not separate requirements. Instead, it appears that the core of §2(b) is the requirement that voting be “equally open.” The statute’s reference to equal “opportunity” may stretch that concept to some degree to include consideration of a person’s ability to use the means that are equally open. But equal openness remains the touchstone. Pp. 14–15.

(3) Another important feature of §2(b) is its “totality of circumstances” requirement. Any circumstance that has a logical bearing on whether voting is “equally open” and affords equal “opportunity” may be considered. Pp. 15–21.

(i) The Court mentions several important circumstances but does not attempt to compile an exhaustive list. Pp. 15–19.

(A) The size of the burden imposed by a challenged voting rule is highly relevant. Voting necessarily requires some effort and compliance with some rules; thus, the concept of a voting system that is “equally open” and that furnishes equal “opportunity” to cast a ballot must tolerate the “usual burdens of voting.” Crawford v. Marion County Election Bd., 553 U.S. 181, 198. Mere inconvenience is insufficient. P. 16.

(B) The degree to which a voting rule departs from what was standard practice when §2 was amended in 1982 is a relevant consideration. The burdens associated with the rules in effect at that time are useful in gauging whether the burdens imposed by a challenged rule are sufficient to prevent voting from being equally “open” or furnishing an equal “opportunity” to vote in the sense meant by §2. Widespread current use is also relevant. Pp. 17–18.

(C) The size of any disparities in a rule’s impact on members of different racial or ethnic groups is an important factor to consider. Even neutral regulations may well result in disparities in rates of voting and noncompliance with voting rules. The mere fact that there is some disparity in impact does not necessarily mean that a system is not equally open or that it does not give everyone an equal opportunity to vote. And small disparities should not be artificially magnified. P. 18.

(D) Consistent with §2(b)’s reference to a States’ “political processes,” courts must consider the opportunities provided by a State’s entire system of voting when assessing the burden imposed by a challenged provision. Thus, where a State provides multiple ways to vote, any burden associated with one option cannot be evaluated without also taking into account the other available means. P. 18.

(E) The strength of the state interests—such as the strong and entirely legitimate state interest in preventing election fraud—served by a challenged voting rule is an important factor. Ensuring that every vote is cast freely, without intimidation or undue influence, is also a valid and important state interest. In determining whether a rule goes too far “based on the totality of circumstances,” rules that are supported by strong state interests are less likely to violate §2. Pp. 18–19.

(ii) Some factors identified in Thornburg v. Gingles, 478 U.S. 30, were designed for use in vote-dilution cases and are plainly inapplicable in a case that involves a challenge to a facially neutral time, place, or manner voting rule. While §2(b)’s “totality of circumstances” language permits consideration of certain other Gingles factors, their only relevance in cases involving neutral time, place, and manner rules is to show that minority group members suffered discrimination in the past and that effects of that discrimination persist. The disparate-impact model employed in Title VII and Fair Housing Act cases is not useful here. Pp. 19–21.

(4) Section 2(b) directs courts to consider “the totality of circumstances,” but the dissent would make §2 turn almost entirely on one circumstance: disparate impact. The dissent also would adopt a least-restrictive means requirement that would force a State to prove that the interest served by its voting rule could not be accomplished in any other less burdensome way. Such a requirement has no footing in the text of §2 or the Court’s precedent construing it and would have the potential to invalidate just about any voting rule a State adopts. Section 2 of the VRA provides vital protection against discriminatory voting rules, and no one suggests that discrimination in voting has been extirpated or that the threat has been eliminated. Even so, §2 does not transfer the States’ authority to set non-discriminatory voting rules to the federal courts. Pp. 21–25.

(c) Neither Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy nor its ballot-collection law violates §2 of the VRA. Pp. 25–34.

(1) Having to identify one’s polling place and then travel there to vote does not exceed the “usual burdens of voting.” Crawford, 553 U. S., at 198. In addition, the State made extensive efforts to reduce the impact of the out-of-precinct policy on the number of valid votes ultimately cast, e.g., by sending a sample ballot to each household that includes a voter’s proper polling location. The burdens of identifying and traveling to one’s assigned precinct are also modest when considering Arizona’s “political processes” as a whole. The State offers other easy ways to vote, which likely explains why out-of-precinct votes on election day make up such a small and apparently diminishing portion of overall ballots cast.

Next, the racial disparity in burdens allegedly caused by the out-of-precinct policy is small in absolute terms. Of the Arizona counties that reported out-of-precinct ballots in the 2016 general election, a little over 1% of Hispanic voters, 1% of African-American voters, and 1% of Native American voters who voted on election day cast an out-of-precinct ballot. For non-minority voters, the rate was around 0.5%. A procedure that appears to work for 98% or more of voters to whom it applies—minority and non-minority alike—is unlikely to render a system unequally open.

Appropriate weight must be given to the important state interests furthered by precinct-based voting. It helps to distribute voters more evenly among polling places; it can put polling places closer to voter residences; and it helps to ensure that each voter receives a ballot that lists only the candidates and public questions on which he or she can vote. Precinct-based voting has a long pedigree in the United States, and the policy of not counting out-of-precinct ballots is widespread.

The Court of Appeals discounted the State’s interests because it found no evidence that a less restrictive alternative would threaten the integrity of precinct-based voting. But §2 does not require a State to show that its chosen policy is absolutely necessary or that a less restrictive means would not adequately serve the State’s objectives. Considering the modest burdens allegedly imposed by Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy, the small size of its disparate impact, and the State’s justifications, the rule does not violate §2. Pp. 25–30.

(2) Arizona’s HB 2023 also passes muster under §2. Arizonans can submit early ballots by going to a mailbox, a post office, an early ballot drop box, or an authorized election official’s office. These options entail the “usual burdens of voting,” and assistance from a statutorily authorized proxy is also available. The State also makes special provision for certain groups of voters who are unable to use the early voting system. See §16–549(C). And here, the plaintiffs were unable to show the extent to which HB 2023 disproportionately burdens minority voters.

Even if the plaintiffs were able to demonstrate a disparate burden caused by HB 2023, the State’s “compelling interest in preserving the integrity of its election procedures” would suffice to avoid §2 liability. Purcell v. Gonzalez, 549 U.S. 1, 4. The Court of Appeals viewed the State’s justifications for HB 2023 as tenuous largely because there was no evidence of early ballot fraud in Arizona. But prevention of fraud is not the only legitimate interest served by restrictions on ballot collection. Third-party ballot collection can lead to pressure and intimidation. Further, a State may take action to prevent election fraud without waiting for it to occur within its own borders. Pp. 30–34.

(d) HB 2023 was not enacted with a discriminatory purpose, as the District Court found. Appellate review of that conclusion is for clear error. Pullman-Standard v. Swint, 456 U.S. 273, 287–288. The District Court’s finding on the question of discriminatory intent had ample support in the record. The court considered the historical background and the highly politicized sequence of events leading to HB 2023’s enactment; it looked for any departures from the normal legislative process; it considered relevant legislative history; and it weighed the law’s impact on different racial groups. See Arlington Heights v. Metropolitan Housing Development Corp., 429 U.S. 252, 266–268. The court found HB 2023 to be the product of sincere legislative debate over the wisdom of early mail-in voting and the potential for fraud. And it took care to distinguish between racial motives and partisan motives. The District Court’s interpretation of the evidence was plausible based on the record, so its permissible view is not clearly erroneous. See Anderson v. Bessemer City, 470 U.S. 564, 573–574. The Court of Appeals concluded that the District Court committed clear error by failing to apply a “cat’s paw” theory—which analyzes whether an actor was a “dupe” who was “used by another to accomplish his purposes.” That theory has its origin in employment discrimination cases and has no application to legislative bodies. Pp. 34–37.

948 F.3d 989, reversed and remanded.

Alito, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Roberts, C. J., and Thomas, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, and Barrett, JJ., joined. Gorsuch, J., filed a concurring opinion, in which Thomas, J., joined. Kagan, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Breyer and Sotomayor, JJ., joined.

Notes
1  Together with No. 19–1258, Arizona Republican Party et al. v. Democratic National Committee et al., also on certiorari to the same court.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

Nos. 19–1257 and 19–1258

_________________

MARK BRNOVICH, ATTORNEY GENERAL OF ARIZONA, et al., PETITIONERS

19–1257v.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, et al.

 

ARIZONA REPUBLICAN PARTY, et al., PETITIONERS

19–1258v.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, et al.

on writs of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the ninth circuit

[July 1, 2021]

Justice Alito delivered the opinion of the Court.

In these cases, we are called upon for the first time to apply §2 of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 to regulations that govern how ballots are collected and counted. Arizona law generally makes it very easy to vote. All voters may vote by mail or in person for nearly a month before election day, but Arizona imposes two restrictions that are claimed to be unlawful. First, in some counties, voters who choose to cast a ballot in person on election day must vote in their own precincts or else their ballots will not be counted. Second, mail-in ballots cannot be collected by anyone other than an election official, a mail carrier, or a voter’s family member, household member, or caregiver. After a trial, a District Court upheld these rules, as did a panel of the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit. But an en banc court, by a divided vote, found them to be unlawful. It relied on the rules’ small disparate impacts on members of minority groups, as well as past discrimination dating back to the State’s territorial days. And it overturned the District Court’s finding that the Arizona Legislature did not adopt the ballot-collection restriction for a discriminatory purpose. We now hold that the en banc court misunderstood and misapplied §2 and that it exceeded its authority in rejecting the District Court’s factual finding on the issue of legislative intent.

I

A

Congress enacted the landmark Voting Rights Act of 1965, 79Stat. 437, as amended, 52 U. S. C. §10301 et seq., in an effort to achieve at long last what the Fifteenth Amendment had sought to bring about 95 years earlier: an end to the denial of the right to vote based on race. Ratified in 1870, the Fifteenth Amendment provides in §1 that “[t]he right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Section 2 of the Amendment then grants Congress the “power to enforce [the Amendment] by appropriate legislation.”

Despite the ratification of the Fifteenth Amendment, the right of African-Americans to vote was heavily suppressed for nearly a century. States employed a variety of notorious methods, including poll taxes, literacy tests, property qualifications, “ ‘white primar[ies],’ ” and “ ‘grandfather clause[s].’ ”[1] Challenges to some blatant efforts reached this Court and were held to violate the Fifteenth Amendment. See, e.g., Guinn v. United States, 238 U.S. 347, 360–365 (1915) (grandfather clause); Myers v. Anderson, 238 U.S. 368, 379–380 (1915) (same); Lane v. Wilson, 307 U.S. 268, 275–277 (1939) (registration scheme predicated on grandfather clause); Smith v. Allwright, 321 U.S. 649, 659–666 (1944) (white primaries); Schnell v. Davis, 336 U.S. 933 (1949) (per curiam), affirming 81 F. Supp. 872 (SD Ala. 1949) (test of constitutional knowledge); Gomillion v. Lightfoot, 364 U.S. 339, 347 (1960) (racial gerrymander). But as late as the mid-1960s, black registration and voting rates in some States were appallingly low. See South Carolina v. Katzenbach, 383 U.S. 301, 313 (1966).

Invoking the power conferred by §2 of the Fifteenth Amendment, see 383 U. S., at 308; City of Rome v. United States, 446 U.S. 156, 173 (1980), Congress enacted the Voting Rights Act (VRA) to address this entrenched problem. The Act and its amendments in the 1970s specifically forbade some of the practices that had been used to suppress black voting. See §§4(a), (c), 79Stat. 438–439; §6, 84Stat. 315; §102, 89Stat. 400, as amended, 52 U. S. C. §§10303(a), (c), 10501 (prohibiting the denial of the right to vote in any election for failure to pass a test demonstrating literacy, educational achievement or knowledge of any particular subject, or good moral character); see also §10, 79Stat. 442, as amended, 52 U. S. C. §10306 (declaring poll taxes unlawful); §11, 79Stat. 443, as amended, 52 U. S. C. §10307 (prohibiting intimidation and the refusal to allow or count votes). Sections 4 and 5 of the VRA imposed special requirements for States and subdivisions where violations of the right to vote had been severe. And §2 addressed the denial or abridgment of the right to vote in any part of the country.

As originally enacted, §2 closely tracked the language of the Amendment it was adopted to enforce. Section 2 stated simply that “[n]o voting qualification or prerequisite to voting, or standard, practice, or procedure shall be imposed or applied by any State or political subdivision to deny or abridge the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color.” 79Stat. 437.

Unlike other provisions of the VRA, §2 attracted relatively little attention during the congressional debates[2] and was “little-used” for more than a decade after its passage.[3] But during the same period, this Court considered several cases involving “vote-dilution” claims asserted under the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. See Whitcomb v. Chavis, 403 U.S. 124 (1971); Burns v. Richardson, 384 U.S. 73 (1966); Fortson v. Dorsey, 379 U.S. 433 (1965). In these and later vote-dilution cases, plaintiffs claimed that features of legislative districting plans, including the configuration of legislative districts and the use of multi-member districts, diluted the ability of particular voters to affect the outcome of elections.

One Fourteenth Amendment vote-dilution case, White v. Regester, 412 U.S. 755 (1973), came to have outsized importance in the development of our VRA case law. In White, the Court affirmed a District Court’s judgment that two multi-member electoral districts were “being used invidiously to cancel out or minimize the voting strength of racial groups.” Id., at 765. The Court explained what a vote-dilution plaintiff must prove, and the words the Court chose would later assume great importance in VRA §2 matters. According to White, a vote-dilution plaintiff had to show that “the political processes leading to nomination and election were not equally open to participation by the group in question—that its members had less opportunity than did other residents in the district to participate in the political processes and to elect legislators of their choice.” Id., at 766 (emphasis added). The decision then recited many pieces of evidence the District Court had taken into account, and it found that this evidence sufficed to prove the plaintiffs’ claim. See id., at 766–769. The decision in White predated Washington v. Davis, 426 U.S. 229 (1976), where the Court held that an equal-protection challenge to a facially neutral rule requires proof of discriminatory purpose or intent, id., at 238–245, and the White opinion said nothing one way or the other about purpose or intent.

A few years later, the question whether a VRA §2 claim required discriminatory purpose or intent came before this Court in Mobile v. Bolden, 446 U.S. 55 (1980). The plurality opinion for four Justices concluded first that §2 of the VRA added nothing to the protections afforded by the Fifteenth Amendment. Id., at 60–61. The plurality then observed that prior decisions “ha[d] made clear that action by a State that is racially neutral on its face violates the Fifteenth Amendment only if motivated by a discriminatory purpose.” Id., at 62. The obvious result of those premises was that facially neutral voting practices violate §2 only if motivated by a discriminatory purpose. The plurality read White as consistent with this requirement. Bolden, 446 U. S., at 68–70.

Shortly after Bolden was handed down, Congress amended §2 of the VRA. The oft-cited Report of the Senate Judiciary Committee accompanying the 1982 Amendment stated that the amendment’s purpose was to repudiate Bolden and establish a new vote-dilution test based on what the Court had said in White. See S. Rep. No. 97–417, pp. 2, 15–16, 27. The bill that was initially passed by the House of Representatives included what is now §2(a). In place of the phrase “to deny or abridge the right . . . to vote on account of race or color,” the amendment substituted “in a manner which results in a denial or abridgement of the right . . . to vote on account of race or color.” H. R. Rep. No. 97–227, p. 48 (1981) (emphasis added); H. R. 3112, 97th Cong., 1st Sess., §2, p. 8 (introduced Oct. 7, 1981).

The House bill “originally passed . . . under a loose understanding that §2 would prohibit all discriminatory ‘effects’ of voting practices, and that intent would be ‘irrelevant,’ ” but “[t]his version met stiff resistance in the Senate.” Mississippi Republican Executive Committee v. Brooks, 469 U.S. 1002, 1010 (1984) (Rehnquist, J., dissenting) (quoting H. R. Rep. No. 97–227, at 29). The House and Senate compromised, and the final product included language proposed by Senator Dole. 469 U. S., at 1010–1011; S. Rep. No. 97–417, at 3–4; 128 Cong. Rec. 14131–14133 (1982) (Sen. Dole describing his amendment).

What is now §2(b) was added, and that provision sets out what must be shown to prove a §2 violation. It requires consideration of “the totality of circumstances” in each case and demands proof that “the political processes leading to nomination or election in the State or political subdivision are not equally open to participation” by members of a protected class “in that its members have less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice.” 52 U. S. C. §10301(b) (emphasis added). Reflecting the Senate Judiciary Committee’s stated focus on the issue of vote dilution, this language was taken almost verbatim from White.

This concentration on the contentious issue of vote dilution reflected the results of the Senate Judiciary Committee’s extensive survey of what it regarded as Fifteenth Amendment violations that called out for legislative redress. See, e.g., S. Rep. No. 97–417, at 6, 8, 23–24, 27, 29. That survey listed many examples of what the Committee took to be unconstitutional vote dilution, but the survey identified only three isolated episodes involving the outright denial of the right to vote, and none of these concerned the equal application of a facially neutral rule specifying the time, place, or manner of voting. See id., at 30, and n. 119.[4] These sparse results were presumably good news. They likely showed that the VRA and other efforts had achieved a large measure of success in combating the previously widespread practice of using such rules to hinder minority groups from voting.

This Court first construed the amended §2 in Thornburg v. Gingles, 478 U.S. 30 (1986)—another vote-dilution case. Justice Brennan’s opinion for the Court set out three threshold requirements for proving a §2 vote-dilution claim, and, taking its cue from the Senate Report, provided a non-exhaustive list of factors to be considered in determining whether §2 had been violated. Id., at 44–45, 48–51, 80. “The essence of a §2 claim,” the Court said, “is that a certain electoral law, practice, or structure interacts with social and historical conditions to cause an inequality in the opportunities” of minority and non-minority voters to elect their preferred representatives. Id., at 47.

In the years since Gingles, we have heard a steady stream of §2 vote-dilution cases,[5] but until today, we have not considered how §2 applies to generally applicable time, place, or manner voting rules. In recent years, however, such claims have proliferated in the lower courts.[6]

B

The present dispute concerns two features of Arizona voting law, which generally makes it quite easy for residents to vote. All Arizonans may vote by mail for 27 days before an election using an “early ballot.” Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §§16–541 (2015), 16–542(C) (Cum. Supp. 2020). No special excuse is needed, §§16–541(A), 16–542(A), and any voter may ask to be sent an early ballot automatically in future elections, §16–544(A) (2015). In addition, during the 27 days before an election, Arizonans may vote in person at an early voting location in each county. See §§16–542(A), (E). And they may also vote in person on election day.

Each county is free to conduct election-day voting either by using the traditional precinct model or by setting up “voting centers.” §16–411(B)(4) (Cum. Supp. 2020). Voting centers are equipped to provide all voters in a county with the appropriate ballot for the precinct in which they are registered, and this allows voters in the county to use whichever vote center they prefer. See ibid.

The regulations at issue in this suit govern precinct-based election-day voting and early mail-in voting. Voters who choose to vote in person on election day in a county that uses the precinct system must vote in their assigned precincts. See §16–122 (2015); see also §16–135. If a voter goes to the wrong polling place, poll workers are trained to direct the voter to the right location. Democratic Nat. Comm. v. Reagan, 329 F. Supp. 3d 824, 859 (Ariz. 2018); see Tr. 1559, 1586 (Oct. 12, 2017); Tr. Exh. 370 (Pima County Elections Inspectors Handbook). If a voter finds that his or her name does not appear on the register at what the voter believes is the right precinct, the voter ordinarily may cast a provisional ballot. Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §16–584 (Cum. Supp. 2020). That ballot is later counted if the voter’s address is determined to be within the precinct. See ibid. But if it turns out that the voter cast a ballot at the wrong precinct, that vote is not counted. See §16–584(E); App. 37–41 (election procedures manual); Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §16–452(C) (misdemeanor to violate rules in election procedures manual).

For those who choose to vote early by mail, Arizona has long required that “[o]nly the elector may be in possession of that elector’s unvoted early ballot.” §16–542(D). In 2016, the state legislature enacted House Bill 2023 (HB 2023), which makes it a crime for any person other than a postal worker, an elections official, or a voter’s caregiver, family member, or household member to knowingly collect an early ballot—either before or after it has been completed. §§16–1005(H)–(I).

In 2016, the Democratic National Committee and certain affiliates brought this suit and named as defendants (among others) the Arizona attorney general and secretary of state in their official capacities. Among other things, the plaintiffs claimed that both the State’s refusal to count ballots cast in the wrong precinct and its ballot-collection restriction “adversely and disparately affect Arizona’s American Indian, Hispanic, and African American citizens,” in violation of §2 of the VRA. Democratic Nat. Comm. v. Hobbs, 948 F.3d 989, 998 (CA9 2020) (en banc). In addition, they alleged that the ballot-collection restriction was “enacted with discriminatory intent” and thus violated both §2 of the VRA and the Fifteenth Amendment. Ibid.

After a 10-day bench trial, 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 832, 833–838, the District Court made extensive findings of fact and rejected all the plaintiffs’ claims, id., at 838–883. The court first found that the out-of-precinct policy “has no meaningfully disparate impact on the opportunities of minority voters to elect” representatives of their choice. Id., at 872. The percentage of ballots invalidated under this policy was very small (0.15% of all ballots cast in 2016) and decreasing, and while the percentages were slightly higher for members of minority groups, the court found that this disparity “does not result in minorities having unequal access to the political process.” Ibid. The court also found that the plaintiffs had not proved that the policy “causes minorities to show up to vote at the wrong precinct at rates higher than their non-minority counterparts,” id., at 873, and the court noted that the plaintiffs had not even challenged “the manner in which Arizona counties allocate and assign polling places or Arizona’s requirement that voters re-register to vote when they move,” ibid.

The District Court similarly found that the ballot- collection restriction is unlikely to “cause a meaningful inequality in the electoral opportunities of minorities.” Id., at 871. Rather, the court noted, the restriction applies equally to all voters and “does not impose burdens beyond those traditionally associated with voting.” Ibid. The court observed that the plaintiffs had presented no records showing how many voters had previously relied on now-prohibited third-party ballot collectors and that the plaintiffs also had “provided no quantitative or statistical evidence” of the percentage of minority and non-minority voters in this group. Id., at 866. “[T]he vast majority” of early voters, the court found, “do not return their ballots with the assistance of a [now-prohibited] third-party collector,” id., at 845, and the evidence largely showed that those who had used such collectors in the past “ha[d] done so out of convenience or personal preference, or because of circumstances that Arizona law adequately accommodates in other ways,” id., at 847.[7] In addition, the court noted, none of the individual voters called by the plaintiffs had even claimed that the ballot-collection restriction “would make it significantly more difficult to vote.” Id., at 871.

Finally, the court found that the ballot-collection law had not been enacted with discriminatory intent. “[T]he majority of H.B. 2023’s proponents,” the court found, “were sincere in their belief that ballot collection increased the risk of early voting fraud, and that H.B. 2023 was a necessary prophylactic measure to bring early mail ballot security in line with in-person voting.” Id., at 879. The court added that “some individual legislators and proponents were motivated in part by partisan interests.” Id., at 882. But it distinguished between partisan and racial motives, while recognizing that “racially polarized voting can sometimes blur the lines.” Ibid.

A divided panel of the Ninth Circuit affirmed, but an en banc court reversed. The en banc court first concluded that both the out-of-precinct policy and the ballot-collection restriction imposed disparate burdens on minority voters because such voters were more likely to be adversely affected by those rules. 948 F. 3d, at 1014–1016, 1032–1033. Then, based on an assessment of the vote-dilution factors used in Gingles, the en banc majority found that these disparate burdens were “in part caused by or linked to ‘social and historical conditions’ ” that produce inequality. 948 F. 3d, at 1032 (quoting Gingles, 478 U. S., at 47); see 948 F. 3d, at 1037. Among other things, the court relied on racial discrimination dating back to Arizona’s territorial days, current socioeconomic disparities, racially polarized voting, and racial campaign appeals. See id., at 1016–1032, 1033–1037.

The en banc majority also held that the District Court had committed clear error in finding that the ballot-collection law was not enacted with discriminatory intent. The en banc court did not claim that a majority of legislators had voted for the law for a discriminatory purpose, but the court held that these lawmakers “were used as ‘cat’s paws’ ” by others. Id., at 1041.

One judge in the majority declined to join the court’s holding on discriminatory intent, and four others dissented across the board. A petition for a writ of certiorari was filed by the Arizona attorney general on his own behalf and on behalf of the State, which had intervened below; another petition was filed by the Arizona Republican Party and other private parties who also had intervened. We granted the petitions and agreed to review both the Ninth Circuit’s understanding and application of VRA §2 and its holding on discriminatory intent. 591 U. S. ___ (2020).

II

We begin with two preliminary matters. Secretary of State Hobbs contends that no petitioner has Article III standing to appeal the decision below as to the out-of-precinct policy, but we reject that argument. All that is needed to entertain an appeal of that issue is one party with standing, see Little Sisters of the Poor Saints Peter and Paul Home v. Pennsylvania, 591 U. S. ___, ___, n. 6 (2020) (slip op., at 13, n. 6), and we are satisfied that Attorney General Brnovich fits the bill. The State of Arizona intervened below, see App. 834; there is “[n]o doubt” as an Article III matter that “the State itself c[an] press this appeal,” Virginia House of Delegates v. Bethune-Hill, 587 U. S. ___, ___ (2019) (slip op., at 4); and the attorney general is authorized to represent the State in any action in federal court, Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §41–193(A)(3) (2021); see Arizonans for Official English v. Arizona, 520 U.S. 43, 51, n. 4 (1997).

Second, we think it prudent to make clear at the beginning that we decline in these cases to announce a test to govern all VRA §2 claims involving rules, like those at issue here, that specify the time, place, or manner for casting ballots. Each of the parties advocated a different test, as did many amici and the courts below. In a brief filed in December in support of petitioners, the Department of Justice proposed one such test but later disavowed the analysis in that brief.[8] The Department informed us, however, that it did not disagree with its prior conclusion that the two provisions of Arizona law at issue in these cases do not violate §2 of the Voting Rights Act.[9] All told, no fewer than 10 tests have been proposed. But as this is our first foray into the area, we think it sufficient for present purposes to identify certain guideposts that lead us to our decision in these cases.

III

A

We start with the text of VRA §2. It now provides:

“(a) No voting qualification or prerequisite to voting or standard, practice, or procedure shall be imposed or applied by any State or political subdivision in a manner which results in a denial or abridgement of the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color, or in contravention of the guarantees set forth in section 10303(f )(2) of this title, as provided in subsection (b).

“(b) A violation of subsection (a) is established if, based on the totality of circumstances, it is shown that the political processes leading to nomination or election in the State or political subdivision are not equally open to participation by members of a class of citizens protected by subsection (a) in that its members have less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice. The extent to which members of a protected class have been elected to office in the State or political subdivision is one circumstance which may be considered: Provided, That nothing in this section establishes a right to have members of a protected class elected in numbers equal to their proportion in the population.” 52 U. S. C. §10301.

In Gingles, our seminal §2 vote-dilution case, the Court quoted the text of amended §2 and then jumped right to the Senate Judiciary Committee Report, which focused on the issue of vote dilution. 478 U. S., at 36–37, 43, and n. 7. Our many subsequent vote-dilution cases have largely followed the path that Gingles charted. But because this is our first §2 time, place, or manner case, a fresh look at the statutory text is appropriate. Today, our statutory interpretation cases almost always start with a careful consideration of the text, and there is no reason to do otherwise here.

B

Section 2(a), as noted, omits the phrase “to deny or abridge the right . . . to vote on account of race or color,” which the Bolden plurality had interpreted to require proof of discriminatory intent. In place of that language, §2(a) substitutes the phrase “in a manner which results in a denial or abridgement of the right . . . to vote on account of race or color.” (Emphasis added.) We need not decide what this text would mean if it stood alone because §2(b), which was added to win Senate approval, explains what must be shown to establish a §2 violation. Section 2(b) states that §2 is violated only where “the political processes leading to nomination or election” are not “equally open to participation” by members of the relevant protected group “in that its members have less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice.” (Emphasis added.)

The key requirement is that the political processes leading to nomination and election (here, the process of voting) must be “equally open” to minority and non-minority groups alike, and the most relevant definition of the term “open,” as used in §2(b), is “without restrictions as to who may participate,” Random House Dictionary of the English Language 1008 (J. Stein ed. 1966), or “requiring no special status, identification, or permit for entry or participation,” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 1579 (1976).

What §2(b) means by voting that is not “equally open” is further explained by this language: “in that its members have less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice.” The phrase “in that” is “used to specify the respect in which a statement is true.”[10] Thus, equal openness and equal opportunity are not separate requirements. Instead, equal opportunity helps to explain the meaning of equal openness. And the term “opportunity” means, among other things, “a combination of circumstances, time, and place suitable or favorable for a particular activity or action.” Id., at 1583; see also Random House Dictionary of the English Language, at 1010 (“an appropriate or favorable time or occasion,” “a situation or condition favorable for attainment of a goal”).

Putting these terms together, it appears that the core of §2(b) is the requirement that voting be “equally open.” The statute’s reference to equal “opportunity” may stretch that concept to some degree to include consideration of a person’s ability to use the means that are equally open. But equal openness remains the touchstone.

C

One other important feature of §2(b) stands out. The provision requires consideration of “the totality of circumstances.” Thus, any circumstance that has a logical bearing on whether voting is “equally open” and affords equal “opportunity” may be considered. We will not attempt to compile an exhaustive list, but several important circumstances should be mentioned.

1

1. First, the size of the burden imposed by a challenged voting rule is highly relevant. The concepts of “open[ness]” and “opportunity” connote the absence of obstacles and burdens that block or seriously hinder voting, and therefore the size of the burden imposed by a voting rule is important. After all, every voting rule imposes a burden of some sort. Voting takes time and, for almost everyone, some travel, even if only to a nearby mailbox. Casting a vote, whether by following the directions for using a voting machine or completing a paper ballot, requires compliance with certain rules. But because voting necessarily requires some effort and compliance with some rules, the concept of a voting system that is “equally open” and that furnishes an equal “opportunity” to cast a ballot must tolerate the “usual burdens of voting.” Crawford v. Marion County Election Bd., 553 U.S. 181, 198 (2008) (opinion of Stevens, J.). Mere inconvenience cannot be enough to demonstrate a violation of §2.[11]

2. For similar reasons, the degree to which a voting rule departs from what was standard practice when §2 was amended in 1982 is a relevant consideration. Because every voting rule imposes a burden of some sort, it is useful to have benchmarks with which the burdens imposed by a challenged rule can be compared. The burdens associated with the rules in widespread use when §2 was adopted are therefore useful in gauging whether the burdens imposed by a challenged rule are sufficient to prevent voting from being equally “open” or furnishing an equal “opportunity” to vote in the sense meant by §2. Therefore, it is relevant that in 1982 States typically required nearly all voters to cast their ballots in person on election day and allowed only narrow and tightly defined categories of voters to cast absentee ballots. See, e.g., 17 N. Y. Elec. Law Ann. §8–100 et seq. (West 1978), §8–300 et seq. (in-person voting), §8–400 et seq. (limited-excuse absentee voting); Pa. Stat. Ann., Tit. 25, §3045 et seq. (Purdon 1963) (in-person voting), §3149.1 et seq. (limited-excuse absentee voting); see §3146.1 (Purdon Cum. Supp. 1993) (same); Ohio Rev. Code Ann. §3501.02 et seq. (Lexis 1972) (in-person voting), §3509.01 et seq. (limited-excuse absentee voting); see §3509.02 (Lexis Supp. 1986) (same); Fla. Stat. Ann. §101.011 et seq. (1973) (in-person voting), §101.62 et seq. (limited-excuse absentee voting); see §97.063 (1982) (same); Ill. Rev. Stat., ch.46, §17–1 et seq. (West 1977) (in-person voting), §19–1 et seq. (limited-excuse absentee voting); D. C. Code §§1–1109, 1–1110 (1973) (in-person voting and limited-excuse absentee voting); see §1–1313 (1981) (same). As of January 1980, only three States permitted no-excuse absentee voting. See Gronke & Galanes-Rosenbaum, America Votes! 261, 267–269 (B. Griffith ed. 2008); see also J. Sargent et al., Congressional Research Service, The Growth of Early and Nonprecinct Place Balloting, in Election Laws of the Fifty States and the District of Columbia (rev. 1976). We doubt that Congress intended to uproot facially neutral time, place, and manner regulations that have a long pedigree or are in widespread use in the United States. We have no need to decide whether adherence to, or a return to, a 1982 framework is necessarily lawful under §2, but the degree to which a challenged rule has a long pedigree or is in widespread use in the United States is a circumstance that must be taken into account.

3. The size of any disparities in a rule’s impact on members of different racial or ethnic groups is also an important factor to consider. Small disparities are less likely than large ones to indicate that a system is not equally open. To the extent that minority and non-minority groups differ with respect to employment, wealth, and education, even neutral regulations, no matter how crafted, may well result in some predictable disparities in rates of voting and noncompliance with voting rules. But the mere fact there is some disparity in impact does not necessarily mean that a system is not equally open or that it does not give everyone an equal opportunity to vote. The size of any disparity matters. And in assessing the size of any disparity, a meaningful comparison is essential. What are at bottom very small differences should not be artificially magnified. E.g., Frank v. Walker, 768 F.3d 744, 752, n. 3 (CA7 2014).

4. Next, courts must consider the opportunities provided by a State’s entire system of voting when assessing the burden imposed by a challenged provision. This follows from §2(b)’s reference to the collective concept of a State’s “political processes” and its “political process” as a whole. Thus, where a State provides multiple ways to vote, any burden imposed on voters who choose one of the available options cannot be evaluated without also taking into account the other available means.

5. Finally, the strength of the state interests served by a challenged voting rule is also an important factor that must be taken into account. As noted, every voting rule imposes a burden of some sort, and therefore, in determining “based on the totality of circumstances” whether a rule goes too far, it is important to consider the reason for the rule. Rules that are supported by strong state interests are less likely to violate §2.

One strong and entirely legitimate state interest is the prevention of fraud. Fraud can affect the outcome of a close election, and fraudulent votes dilute the right of citizens to cast ballots that carry appropriate weight. Fraud can also undermine public confidence in the fairness of elections and the perceived legitimacy of the announced outcome.

Ensuring that every vote is cast freely, without intimidation or undue influence, is also a valid and important state interest. This interest helped to spur the adoption of what soon became standard practice in this country and in other democratic nations the world round: the use of private voting booths. See Burson v. Freeman, 504 U.S. 191, 202–205 (1992) (plurality opinion).

2

While the factors set out above are important, others considered by some lower courts are less helpful in a case like the ones at hand. First, it is important to keep in mind that the Gingles or “Senate” factors grew out of and were designed for use in vote-dilution cases. Some of those factors are plainly inapplicable in a case involving a challenge to a facially neutral time, place, or manner voting rule. Factors three and four concern districting and election procedures like “majority vote requirements,” “anti-single shot provisions,”[12] and a “candidate slating process.”[13] See Gingles, 478 U. S., at 37 (internal quotation marks omitted). Factors two, six, and seven (which concern racially polarized voting, racially tinged campaign appeals, and the election of minority-group candidates), ibid., have a bearing on whether a districting plan affects the opportunity of minority voters to elect their candidates of choice. But in cases involving neutral time, place, and manner rules, the only relevance of these and the remaining factors is to show that minority group members suffered discrimination in the past (factor one) and that effects of that discrimination persist (factor five). Id., at 36–37. We do not suggest that these factors should be disregarded. After all, §2(b) requires consideration of “the totality of circumstances.” But their relevance is much less direct.

We also do not find the disparate-impact model employed in Title VII and Fair Housing Act cases useful here. The text of the relevant provisions of Title VII and the Fair Housing Act differ from that of VRA §2, and it is not obvious why Congress would conform rules regulating voting to those regulating employment and housing. For example, we think it inappropriate to read §2 to impose a strict “necessity requirement” that would force States to demonstrate that their legitimate interests can be accomplished only by means of the voting regulations in question. Stephanopoulos, Disparate Impact, Unified Law, 128 Yale L. J. 1566, 1617–1619 (2019) (advocating such a requirement). Demanding such a tight fit would have the effect of invalidating a great many neutral voting regulations with long pedigrees that are reasonable means of pursuing legitimate interests. It would also transfer much of the authority to regulate election procedures from the States to the federal courts. For those reasons, the Title VII and Fair Housing Act models are unhelpful in §2 cases.

D

The interpretation set out above follows directly from what §2 commands: consideration of “the totality of circumstances” that have a bearing on whether a State makes voting “equally open” to all and gives everyone an equal “opportunity” to vote. The dissent, by contrast, would rewrite the text of §2 and make it turn almost entirely on just one circumstance—disparate impact.

That is a radical project, and the dissent strains mightily to obscure its objective. To that end, it spends 20 pages discussing matters that have little bearing on the questions before us. The dissent provides historical background that all Americans should remember, see post, at 3–7 (opinion of Kagan, J.), but that background does not tell us how to decide these cases. The dissent quarrels with the decision in Shelby County v. Holder, 570 U.S. 529 (2013), see post, at 7–9, which concerned §§4 and 5 of the VRA, not §2. It discusses all sorts of voting rules that are not at issue here. See post, at 9–12. And it dwells on points of law that nobody disputes: that §2 applies to a broad range of voting rules, practices, and procedures; that an “abridgement” of the right to vote under §2 does not require outright denial of the right; that §2 does not demand proof of discriminatory purpose; and that a “facially neutral” law or practice may violate that provision. See post, at 12–20.

Only after this extended effort at misdirection is the dissent’s aim finally unveiled: to undo as much as possible the compromise that was reached between the House and Senate when §2 was amended in 1982. Recall that the version originally passed by the House did not contain §2(b) and was thought to prohibit any voting practice that had “discriminatory effects,” loosely defined. See supra, at 5–6. That is the freewheeling disparate-impact regime the dissent wants to impose on the States. But the version enacted into law includes §2(b), and that subsection directs us to consider “the totality of circumstances,” not, as the dissent would have it, the totality of just one circumstance.[14] There is nothing to the dissent’s charge that we are departing from the statutory text by identifying some of those considerations.

We have listed five relevant circumstances and have explained why they all stem from the statutory text and have a bearing on the determination that §2 requires. The dissent does not mention a single additional consideration, and it does its best to push aside all but one of the circumstances we discuss. It entirely rejects three of them: the size of the burden imposed by a challenged rule, see post, at 22–23, the landscape of voting rules both in 1982 and in the present, post, at 24–25,[15] and the availability of other ways to vote, post, at 23–24. Unable to bring itself to completely reject consideration of the state interests that a challenged rule serves, the dissent tries to diminish the significance of this circumstance as much as possible. See post, at 26–29. According to the dissent, an interest served by a voting rule, no matter how compelling, cannot support the rule unless a State can prove to the satisfaction of the courts that this interest could not be served by any other means. Post, at 17–18, 26–29. Such a requirement has no footing in the text of §2 or our precedent construing it.[16]

That requirement also would have the potential to invalidate just about any voting rule a State adopts. Take the example of a State’s interest in preventing voting fraud. Even if a State could point to a history of serious voting fraud within its own borders, the dissent would apparently strike down a rule designed to prevent fraud unless the State could demonstrate an inability to combat voting fraud in any other way, such as by hiring more investigators and prosecutors, prioritizing voting fraud investigations, and heightening criminal penalties. Nothing about equal openness and equal opportunity dictates such a high bar for States to pursue their legitimate interests.

With all other circumstances swept away, all that remains in the dissent’s approach is the size of any disparity in a rule’s impact on members of protected groups. As we have noted, differences in employment, wealth, and education may make it virtually impossible for a State to devise rules that do not have some disparate impact. But under the dissent’s interpretation of §2, any “statistically significant” disparity—wherever that is in the statute—may be enough to take down even facially neutral voting rules with long pedigrees that reasonably pursue important state interests. Post, at 15, n. 4, 19–20, 32–33.[17]

Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act provides vital protection against discriminatory voting rules, and no one suggests that discrimination in voting has been extirpated or that the threat has been eliminated. But §2 does not deprive the States of their authority to establish non-discriminatory voting rules, and that is precisely what the dissent’s radical interpretation would mean in practice. The dissent is correct that the Voting Rights Act exemplifies our country’s commitment to democracy, but there is nothing democratic about the dissent’s attempt to bring about a wholesale transfer of the authority to set voting rules from the States to the federal courts.

IV

A

In light of the principles set out above, neither Arizona’s out-of-precinct rule nor its ballot-collection law violates §2 of the VRA. Arizona’s out-of-precinct rule enforces the requirement that voters who choose to vote in person on election day must do so in their assigned precincts. Having to identify one’s own polling place and then travel there to vote does not exceed the “usual burdens of voting.” Crawford, 553 U. S., at 198 (opinion of Stevens, J.) (noting the same about making a trip to the department of motor vehicles). On the contrary, these tasks are quintessential examples of the usual burdens of voting.

Not only are these unremarkable burdens, but the District Court’s uncontested findings show that the State made extensive efforts to reduce their impact on the number of valid votes ultimately cast. The State makes accurate precinct information available to all voters. When precincts or polling places are altered between elections, each registered voter is sent a notice showing the voter’s new polling place. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 859. Arizona law also mandates that election officials send a sample ballot to each household that includes a registered voter who has not opted to be placed on the permanent early voter list, Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §16–510(C) (2015), and this mailing also identifies the voter’s proper polling location, 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 859. In addition, the Arizona secretary of state’s office sends voters pamphlets that include information (in both English and Spanish) about how to identify their assigned precinct. Ibid.

Polling place information is also made available by other means. The secretary of state’s office operates websites that provide voter-specific polling place information and allow voters to make inquiries to the secretary’s staff. Ibid. Arizona’s two most populous counties, Maricopa and Pima, provide online polling place locators with information available in English and Spanish. Ibid. Other groups offer similar online tools. Ibid. Voters may also identify their assigned polling place by calling the office of their respective county recorder. Ibid. And on election day, poll workers in at least some counties are trained to redirect voters who arrive at the wrong precinct. Ibid; see Tr. 1559, 1586; Tr. Exh. 370 (Pima County Elections Inspectors Handbook).

The burdens of identifying and traveling to one’s assigned precinct are also modest when considering Arizona’s “political processes” as a whole. The Court of Appeals noted that Arizona leads other States in the rate of votes rejected on the ground that they were cast in the wrong precinct, and the court attributed this to frequent changes in polling locations, confusing placement of polling places, and high levels of residential mobility. 948 F. 3d, at 1000–1004. But even if it is marginally harder for Arizona voters to find their assigned polling places, the State offers other easy ways to vote. Any voter can request an early ballot without excuse. Any voter can ask to be placed on the permanent early voter list so that an early ballot will be mailed automatically. Voters may drop off their early ballots at any polling place, even one to which they are not assigned. And for nearly a month before election day, any voter can vote in person at an early voting location in his or her county. The availability of those options likely explains why out-of-precinct votes on election day make up such a small and apparently diminishing portion of overall ballots cast—0.47% of all ballots in the 2012 general election and just 0.15% in 2016. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 872.

Next, the racial disparity in burdens allegedly caused by the out-of-precinct policy is small in absolute terms. The District Court accepted the plaintiffs’ evidence that, of the Arizona counties that reported out-of-precinct ballots in the 2016 general election, a little over 1% of Hispanic voters, 1% of African-American voters, and 1% of Native American voters who voted on election day cast an out-of-precinct ballot. Ibid. For non-minority voters, the rate was around 0.5%. Ibid. (citing Tr. Exh. 97, at 3, 20–21). A policy that appears to work for 98% or more of voters to whom it applies—minority and non-minority alike—is unlikely to render a system unequally open.

The Court of Appeals attempted to paint a different picture, but its use of statistics was highly misleading for reasons that were well explained by Judge Easterbrook in a §2 case involving voter IDs. As he put it, a distorted picture can be created by dividing one percentage by another. Frank, 768 F. 3d, at 752, n. 3. He gave this example: “If 99.9% of whites had photo IDs, and 99.7% of blacks did,” it could be said that “ ‘blacks are three times as likely as whites to lack qualifying ID’ (0.3 ÷ 0.1 = 3), but such a statement would mask the fact that the populations were effectively identical.” Ibid.

That is exactly what the en banc Ninth Circuit did here. The District Court found that among the counties that reported out-of-precinct ballots in the 2016 general election, roughly 99% of Hispanic voters, 99% of African-American voters, and 99% of Native American voters who voted on election day cast their ballots in the right precinct, while roughly 99.5% of non-minority voters did so. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 872. Based on these statistics, the en banc Ninth Circuit concluded that “minority voters in Arizona cast [out-of-precinct] ballots at twice the rate of white voters.” 948 F. 3d, at 1014; see id., at 1004–1005. This is precisely the sort of statistical manipulation that Judge Easterbrook rightly criticized, namely, 1.0 ÷ 0.5 = 2. Properly understood, the statistics show only a small disparity that provides little support for concluding that Arizona’s political processes are not equally open.

The Court of Appeals’ decision also failed to give appropriate weight to the state interests that the out-of-precinct rule serves. Not counting out-of-precinct votes induces compliance with the requirement that Arizonans who choose to vote in-person on election day do so at their assigned polling places. And as the District Court recognized, precinct-based voting furthers important state interests. It helps to distribute voters more evenly among polling places and thus reduces wait times. It can put polling places closer to voter residences than would a more centralized voting-center model. In addition, precinct-based voting helps to ensure that each voter receives a ballot that lists only the candidates and public questions on which he or she can vote, and this orderly administration tends to decrease voter confusion and increase voter confidence in elections. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 878. It is also significant that precinct-based voting has a long pedigree in the United States. See 948 F. 3d, at 1062–1063 (Bybee, J., dissenting) (citing J. Harris, Election Administration in the United States 206–207 (1934)). And the policy of not counting out-of-precinct ballots is widespread. See 948 F. 3d, at 1072–1088 (collecting and categorizing state laws).

The Court of Appeals discounted the State’s interests because, in its view, there was no evidence that a less restrictive alternative would threaten the integrity of precinct-based voting. The court thought the State had no good reason for not counting an out-of-precinct voter’s choices with respect to the candidates and issues also on the ballot in the voter’s proper precinct. See id., at 1030–1031. We disagree with this reasoning.

Section 2 does not require a State to show that its chosen policy is absolutely necessary or that a less restrictive means would not adequately serve the State’s objectives. And the Court of Appeals’ preferred alternative would have obvious disadvantages. Partially counting out-of-precinct ballots would complicate the process of tabulation and could lead to disputes and delay. In addition, as one of the en banc dissenters noted, it would tend to encourage voters who are primarily interested in only national or state-wide elections to vote in whichever place is most convenient even if they know that it is not their assigned polling place. See id., at 1065–1066 (opinion of Bybee, J.).

In light of the modest burdens allegedly imposed by Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy, the small size of its disparate impact, and the State’s justifications, we conclude the rule does not violate §2 of the VRA.[18]

B

HB 2023 likewise passes muster under the results test of §2. Arizonans who receive early ballots can submit them by going to a mailbox, a post office, an early ballot drop box, or an authorized election official’s office within the 27-day early voting period. They can also drop off their ballots at any polling place or voting center on election day, and in order to do so, they can skip the line of voters waiting to vote in person. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 839 (citing ECF Doc. 361, ¶57). Making any of these trips—much like traveling to an assigned polling place—falls squarely within the heartland of the “usual burdens of voting.” Crawford, 553 U. S., at 198 (opinion of Stevens, J.). And voters can also ask a statutorily authorized proxy—a family member, a household member, or a caregiver—to mail a ballot or drop it off at any time within 27 days of an election.

Arizona also makes special provision for certain groups of voters who are unable to use the early voting system. Every county must establish a special election board to serve voters who are “confined as the result of a continuing illness or physical disability,” are unable to go to the polls on election day, and do not wish to cast an early vote by mail. Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §16–549(C) (Cum. Supp. 2020). At the request of a voter in this group, the board will deliver a ballot in person and return it on the voter’s behalf. §§16–549(C), (E). Arizona law also requires employers to give employees time off to vote when they are otherwise scheduled to work certain shifts on election day. §16–402 (2015).

The plaintiffs were unable to provide statistical evidence showing that HB 2023 had a disparate impact on minority voters. Instead, they called witnesses who testified that third-party ballot collection tends to be used most heavily in disadvantaged communities and that minorities in Arizona—especially Native Americans—are disproportionately disadvantaged. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 868, 870. But from that evidence the District Court could conclude only that prior to HB 2023’s enactment, “minorities generically were more likely than non-minorities to return their early ballots with the assistance of third parties.” Id., at 870. How much more, the court could not say from the record. Ibid. Neither can we. And without more concrete evidence, we cannot conclude that HB 2023 results in less opportunity to participate in the political process.[19]

Even if the plaintiffs had shown a disparate burden caused by HB 2023, the State’s justifications would suffice to avoid §2 liability. “A State indisputably has a compelling interest in preserving the integrity of its election process.” Purcell v. Gonzalez, 549 U.S. 1, 4 (2006) (per curiam) (internal quotation marks omitted). Limiting the classes of persons who may handle early ballots to those less likely to have ulterior motives deters potential fraud and improves voter confidence. That was the view of the bipartisan Commission on Federal Election Reform chaired by former President Jimmy Carter and former Secretary of State James Baker. The Carter-Baker Commission noted that “[a]bsentee balloting is vulnerable to abuse in several ways: . . . Citizens who vote at home, at nursing homes, at the workplace, or in church are more susceptible to pressure, overt and subtle, or to intimidation.” Report of the Comm’n on Fed. Election Reform, Building Confidence in U. S. Elections 46 (Sept. 2005).

The Commission warned that “[v]ote buying schemes are far more difficult to detect when citizens vote by mail,” and it recommended that “States therefore should reduce the risks of fraud and abuse in absentee voting by prohibiting ‘third-party’ organizations, candidates, and political party activists from handling absentee ballots.” Ibid. The Commission ultimately recommended that States limit the classes of persons who may handle absentee ballots to “the voter, an acknowledged family member, the U. S. Postal Service or other legitimate shipper, or election officials.” Id., at 47. HB 2023 is even more permissive in that it also authorizes ballot-handling by a voter’s household member and caregiver. See Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §16–1005(I)(2). Restrictions on ballot collection are also common in other States. See 948 F. 3d, at 1068–1069, 1088–1143 (Bybee, J., dissenting) (collecting state provisions).

The Court of Appeals thought that the State’s justifications for HB 2023 were tenuous in large part because there was no evidence that fraud in connection with early ballots had occurred in Arizona. See id., at 1045–1046. But prevention of fraud is not the only legitimate interest served by restrictions on ballot collection. As the Carter-Baker Commission recognized, third-party ballot collection can lead to pressure and intimidation. And it should go without saying that a State may take action to prevent election fraud without waiting for it to occur and be detected within its own borders. Section 2’s command that the political processes remain equally open surely does not demand that “a State’s political system sustain some level of damage before the legislature [can] take corrective action.” Munro v. Socialist Workers Party, 479 U.S. 189, 195 (1986). Fraud is a real risk that accompanies mail-in voting even if Arizona had the good fortune to avoid it. Election fraud has had serious consequences in other States. For example, the North Carolina Board of Elections invalidated the results of a 2018 race for a seat in the House of Representatives for evidence of fraudulent mail-in ballots.[20] The Arizona Legislature was not obligated to wait for something similar to happen closer to home.[21]

As with the out-of-precinct policy, the modest evidence of racially disparate burdens caused by HB 2023, in light of the State’s justifications, leads us to the conclusion that the law does not violate §2 of the VRA.

V

We also granted certiorari to review whether the Court of Appeals erred in concluding that HB 2023 was enacted with a discriminatory purpose. The District Court found that it was not, 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 882, and appellate review of that conclusion is for clear error, Pullman-Standard v. Swint, 456 U.S. 273, 287–288 (1982). If the district court’s view of the evidence is plausible in light of the entire record, an appellate court may not reverse even if it is convinced that it would have weighed the evidence differently in the first instance. Anderson v. Bessemer City, 470 U.S. 564, 573–574 (1985). “Where there are two permissible views of the evidence, the factfinder’s choice between them cannot be clearly erroneous.” Id., at 574.

The District Court’s finding on the question of discriminatory intent had ample support in the record. Applying the familiar approach outlined in Arlington Heights v. Metropolitan Housing Development Corp., 429 U.S. 252, 266–268 (1977), the District Court considered the historical background and the sequence of events leading to HB 2023’s enactment; it looked for any departures from the normal legislative process; it considered relevant legislative history; and it weighed the law’s impact on different racial groups. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 879.

The court noted, among other things, that HB 2023’s enactment followed increased use of ballot collection as a Democratic get-out-the-vote strategy and came “on the heels of several prior efforts to restrict ballot collection, some of which were spearheaded by former Arizona State Senator Don Shooter.” Id., at 879. Shooter’s own election in 2010 had been close and racially polarized. Aiming in part to frustrate the Democratic Party’s get-out-the-vote strategy, Shooter made what the court termed “unfounded and often far-fetched allegations of ballot collection fraud.” Id., at 880. But what came after the airing of Shooter’s claims and a “racially-tinged” video created by a private party was a serious legislative debate on the wisdom of early mail-in voting. Ibid.[22]

That debate, the District Court concluded, was sincere and led to the passage of HB 2023 in 2016. Proponents of the bill repeatedly argued that mail-in ballots are more susceptible to fraud than in-person voting. Ibid. The bill found support from a few minority officials and organizations, one of which expressed concern that ballot collectors were taking advantage of elderly Latino voters. Ibid. And while some opponents of the bill accused Republican legislators of harboring racially discriminatory motives, that view was not uniform. See ibid. One Democratic state senator pithily described the “ ‘problem’ ” HB 2023 aimed to “ ‘solv[e]’ ” as the fact that “ ‘one party is better at collecting ballots than the other one.’ ” Id., at 882 (quoting Tr. Exh. 25, at 35).

We are more than satisfied that the District Court’s interpretation of the evidence is permissible. The spark for the debate over mail-in voting may well have been provided by one Senator’s enflamed partisanship, but partisan motives are not the same as racial motives. See Cooper v. Harris, 581 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2017) (slip op., at 19–20). The District Court noted that the voting preferences of members of a racial group may make the former look like the latter, but it carefully distinguished between the two. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 879, 882. And while the District Court recognized that the “racially-tinged” video helped spur the debate about ballot collection, it found no evidence that the legislature as a whole was imbued with racial motives. Id., at 879–880.

The Court of Appeals did not dispute the District Court’s assessment of the sincerity of HB 2023’s proponents. It even agreed that some members of the legislature had a “sincere, though mistaken, non-race-based belief that there had been fraud in third-party ballot collection, and that the problem needed to be addressed.” 948 F. 3d, at 1040. The Court of Appeals nevertheless concluded that the District Court committed clear error by failing to apply a “ ‘cat’s paw’ ” theory sometimes used in employment discrimination cases. Id., at 1040–1041. A “cat’s paw” is a “dupe” who is “used by another to accomplish his purposes.” Webster’s New International Dictionary 425 (2d ed. 1934). A plaintiff in a “cat’s paw” case typically seeks to hold the plaintiff ’s employer liable for “the animus of a supervisor who was not charged with making the ultimate [adverse] employment decision.” Staub v. Proctor Hospital, 562 U.S. 411, 415 (2011).

The “cat’s paw” theory has no application to legislative bodies. The theory rests on the agency relationship that exists between an employer and a supervisor, but the legislators who vote to adopt a bill are not the agents of the bill’s sponsor or proponents. Under our form of government, legislators have a duty to exercise their judgment and to represent their constituents. It is insulting to suggest that they are mere dupes or tools.

*  *  *

Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy and HB 2023 do not violate §2 of the VRA, and HB 2023 was not enacted with a racially discriminatory purpose. The judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed, and the cases are remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

 

It is so ordered.

Notes
1  H. R. Rep. No. 439, 89th Cong., 1st Sess., 8, 11–13 (1965); S. Rep. No. 162, 89th Cong., 1st Sess., pt. 3, pp. 4–5 (1965); see South Carolina v. Katzenbach, 383 U.S. 301, 309–315 (1966).
2  See Mobile v. Bolden, 446 U.S. 55, 60–61 (1980) (plurality opinion) (describing §2’s “sparse” legislative history).
3  Boyd & Markman, The 1982 Amendments to the Voting Rights Act: A Legislative History, 40 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 1347, 1352–1353 (1983).
4  See Brown v. Post, 279 F. Supp. 60, 63 (WD La. 1968) (parish clerks discriminated with respect to absentee voting); United States v. Post, 297 F. Supp. 46, 51 (WD La. 1969) (election official induced blacks to vote in accordance with outdated procedures and made votes ineffective); Toney v. White, 488 F.2d 310, 312 (CA5 1973) (registrar discriminated in purging voting rolls).
5  See Chisom v. Roemer, 501 U.S. 380 (1991) (multi-member district); Houston Lawyers’ Assn. v. Attorney General of Tex., 501 U.S. 419 (1991) (at-large elections); Voinovich v. Quilter, 507 U.S. 146 (1993) (districting); Growe v. Emison, 507 U.S. 25 (1993) (same); Holder v. Hall, 512 U.S. 874 (1994) (single-member commission); Johnson v. De Grandy, 512 U.S. 997 (1994) (districting); Abrams v. Johnson, 521 U.S. 74 (1997) (same); League of United Latin American Citizens v. Perry, 548 U.S. 399 (2006) (same); Abbott v. Perez, 585 U. S. ___ (2018) (same).
6  See Brief for Sen. Ted Cruz et al. as Amici Curiae 22–24 (describing §2 challenges to laws regulating absentee voting, precinct voting, early voting periods, voter identification (ID), election observer zones, same-day registration, durational residency, and straight-ticket voting); Brief for State of Ohio et al. as Amici Curiae 23–25 (describing various §2 challenges); Brief for Liberty Justice Center as Amicus Curiae 1–3, 7–11 (describing long-running §2 challenges to Wisconsin voter ID law).
7  An ill or disabled voter may have a ballot delivered by a special election board, and curbside voting at polling places is also allowed. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 848.
8  Letter from E. Kneedler, Deputy Solicitor General, to S. Harris, Clerk of Court (Feb. 16, 2021).
9  Ibid.
10  The New Oxford American Dictionary 851 (2d ed. 2005); see 7 Oxford English Dictionary 763 (2d ed. 1989) (“in presence, view, or consequence of the fact that”); Webster’s New International Dictionary 1253 (2d ed. 1934) (“Because; for the reason that”).
11  There is a difference between openness and opportunity, on the one hand, and the absence of inconvenience, on the other. For example, suppose that an exhibit at a museum in a particular city is open to everyone free of charge every day of the week for several months. Some residents of the city who have the opportunity to view the exhibit may find it inconvenient to do so for many reasons—the problem of finding parking, dislike of public transportation, anticipation that the exhibit will be crowded, a plethora of weekend chores and obligations, etc. Or, to take another example, a college course may be open to all students and all may have the opportunity to enroll, but some students may find it inconvenient to take the class for a variety of reasons. For example, classes may occur too early in the morning or on Friday afternoon; too much reading may be assigned; the professor may have a reputation as a hard grader; etc.
12  Where voters are allowed to vote for multiple candidates in a race for multiple seats, single-shot voting is the practice of voting for only one candidate. “ ‘ “Single-shot voting enables a minority group to win some at-large seats if it concentrates its vote behind a limited number of candidates and if the vote of the majority is divided among a number of candidates.” ’ ” Gingles, 478 U. S., at 38–39, n. 5 (quoting City of Rome v. United States, 446 U.S. 156, 184, n. 19 (1980)); see also United States Commission on Civil Rights, The Voting Rights Act: Ten Years After 206–207 (1975).
13  Slating has been described as “a process in which some influential non-governmental organization selects and endorses a group or ‘slate’ of candidates, rendering the election little more than a stamp of approval for the candidates selected.” Westwego Citizens for Better Govt. v. Westwego, 946 F.2d 1109, 1116, n. 5 (CA5 1991). Exclusion from such a system can make it difficult for minority groups to elect their preferred candidates. See, e.g., White v. Regester, 412 U.S. 755, 766–767, and n. 11 (1973) (describing one example).
14  The dissent erroneously claims that the Senate-House compromise was only about proportional representation and not about “the equal-access right” at issue in the present cases. Post, at 19, n. 6. The text of the bill initially passed by the House had no equal-access right. See H. R. Rep. No. 97–227, p. 48 (1981); H. R. 3112, 97th Cong., 1st Sess., §2, p. 8 (introduced Oct. 7, 1981). Section 2(b) was the Senate’s creation, and that provision is what directed courts to look beyond mere “results” to whether a State’s “political processes” are “equally open,” considering “the totality of circumstances.” See Mississippi Republican Executive Committee v. Brooks, 469 U.S. 1002, 1010 (1984) (Rehnquist, J., dissenting) (“The compromise bill retained the ‘results’ language but also incorporated language directly from this Court’s opinion in White v. Regester”). And while the proviso on proportional representation may not apply as directly in this suit, it is still a signal that §2 imposes something other than a pure disparate-impact regime.
15  The dissent objects to consideration of the 1982 landscape because even rules that were prevalent at that time are invalid under §2 if they, well, violate §2. Post, at 24. We of course agree with that tautology. But the question is what it means to provide equal opportunity, and given that every voting rule imposes some amount of burden, rules that were and are commonplace are useful comparators when considering the totality of circumstances. Unlike the dissent, Congress did not set its sights on every facially neutral time, place, or manner voting rule in existence. See, e.g., S. Rep. No. 97–417, at 10, n. 22 (describing what the Senate Judiciary Committee viewed as “blatant direct impediments to voting”).
16  For support, the dissent offers a baseless reading of one of our vote-dilution decisions. In Houston Lawyers’ Assn., 501 U.S. 419, we considered a §2 challenge to an electoral scheme wherein all trial judges in a judicial district were elected on a district-wide basis. Id., at 422. The State asserted that it had a strong interest in district-wide judicial elections on the theory that they make every individual judge at least partly accountable to minority voters in the jurisdiction. Id., at 424, 426. That unique interest, the State contended, should have “automatically” exempted the electoral scheme from §2 scrutiny altogether. Id., at 426. We disagreed, holding that the State’s interest was instead “a legitimate factor to be considered by courts among the ‘totality of circumstances’ in determining whether a §2 violation has occurred.” Ibid. To illustrate why an “automati[c]” exemption from §2’s coverage was inappropriate, the Court hypothesized a case involving an “uncouth” district shaped like the one in Gomillion v. Lightfoot, 364 U.S. 339, 340 (1960), for which an inquiry under §2 “would at least arguably be required.” 501 U. S., at 427. The Court then wrote the language upon which the dissent seizes: “Placing elections for single-member offices entirely beyond the scope of coverage of §2 would preclude such an inquiry, even if the State’s interest in maintaining the ‘uncouth’ electoral system was trivial or illusory and even if any resulting impairment of a minority group’s voting strength could be remedied without significantly impairing the State’s interest in electing judges on a district-wide basis.” Id., at 427–428. That reductio ad absurdum, used to demonstrate only why an automatic exemption from §2 scrutiny was inappropriate, did not announce an “inquiry” at all—much less the least-burdensome-means requirement the dissent would have us smuggle in from materially different statutory regimes. Post, at 18, n. 5, 26. Perhaps that is why no one—not the parties, not the United States, not the 36 other amici, not the courts below, and certainly not this Court in subsequent decisions—has advanced the dissent’s surprising reading of a single phrase in Houston Lawyers Assn. The dissent apparently thinks that in 1991 we silently abrogated the principle that the nature of a State’s interest is but one of many factors to consider, see Thornburg v. Gingles, 478 U.S. 30, 44–45 (1986), and that our subsequent cases have erred by failing simply to ask whether a less burdensome measure would suffice. Who knew?
17  We do not think §2 is so procrustean. Statistical significance may provide “evidence that something besides random error is at work,” Federal Judicial Center, Reference Manual on Scientific Evidence 252 (3d ed. 2011), but it does not necessarily determine causes, and as the dissent acknowledges, post, at 15, n. 4, it is not the be-all and end-all of disparate-impact analysis. See Federal Judicial Center, Reference Manual, at 252 (“[S]ignificant differences . . . are not evidence that [what is at work] is legally or practically important. Statisticians distinguish between statistical and practical significance to make the point. When practical significance is lacking—when the size of a disparity is negligible—there is no reason to worry about statistical significance”); ibid., n. 102 (citing authorities). Moreover, whatever might be “standard” in other contexts, post, at 15, n. 4, we have explained that VRA §2’s focus on equal “open[ness]” and equal “opportunity” does not impose a standard disparate-impact regime.
18  In arguing that Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy violates §2, the dissent focuses on the State’s decisions about the siting of polling places and the frequency with which voting precincts are changed. See post, at 33 (“Much of the story has to do with the siting and shifting of polling places”). But the plaintiffs did not challenge those practices. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 873 (“Plaintiffs . . . do not challenge the manner in which Arizona counties allocate and assign polling places or Arizona’s requirement that voters re-register to vote when they move”). The dissent is thus left with the unenviable task of explaining how something like a 0.5% disparity in discarded ballots between minority and non-minority groups suffices to render Arizona’s political processes not equally open to participation. See supra, at 27–28. A voting rule with that effect would not be—to use the dissent’s florid example—one that a “minority vote suppressor in Arizona” would want in his or her “bag of tricks.” Post, at 33.
19  Not one to let the absence of a key finding get in the way, the dissent concludes from its own review of the evidence that HB 2023 “prevents many Native Americans from making effective use of one of the principal means of voting in Arizona,” and that “[w]hat is an inconsequential burden for others is for these citizens a severe hardship.” Post, at 38. What is missing from those statements is any evidence about the actual size of the disparity. (For that matter, by the time the dissent gets around to assessing HB 2023, it appears to have lost its zeal for statistical significance, which is nowhere to be seen. See post, at 35–40, and n. 13.) The reader will search in vain to discover where the District Court “found” to what extent HB 2023 would make it “ ‘significantly more difficult’ ” for Native Americans to vote. Post, at 39, n. 15 (citing 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 868, 870). Rather, “[b]ased on” the very same evidence the dissent cites, the District Court could find only that minorities were “generically” more likely than non-minorities to make use of third-party ballot-collection. Id., at 870. The District Court’s explanation as to why speaks for itself: “Although there are significant socioeconomic disparities between minorities and non-minorities in Arizona, these disparities are an imprecise proxy for disparities in ballot collection use. Plaintiffs do not argue that all or even most socioeconomically disadvantaged voters use ballot collection services, nor does the evidence support such a finding. Rather, the anecdotal estimates from individual ballot collectors indicate that a relatively small number of voters have used ballot collection services in past elections.” Ibid.; see also id., at 881 (“[B]allot collection was used as a [get-out-the-vote] strategy in mostly low-efficacy minority communities, though the Court cannot say how often voters used ballot collection, nor can it measure the degree or significance of any disparities in its usage” (emphasis added)).
20  See Blinder, Election Fraud in North Carolina Leads to New Charges for Republican Operative, N. Y. Times, July 30, 2019, https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/30/us/mccrae-dowless-indictment.html; Graham, North Carolina Had No Choice, The Atlantic, Feb. 22, 2019, https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2019/02/north-carolina-9th-fraud-board-orders-new-election/583369/.
21  The dissent’s primary argument regarding HB 2023 concerns its effect on Native Americans who live on remote reservations. The dissent notes that many of these voters do not receive mail delivery at home, that the nearest post office may be some distance from their homes, and that they may not have automobiles. Post, at 36. We do not dismiss these problems, but for a number of reasons, they do not provide a basis for invalidating HB 2023. The burdens that fall on remote communities are mitigated by the long period of time prior to an election during which a vote may be cast either in person or by mail and by the legality of having a ballot picked up and mailed by family or household members. And in this suit, no individual voter testified that HB 2023 would make it significantly more difficult for him or her to vote. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 871. Moreover, the Postal Service is required by law to “provide a maximum degree of effective and regular postal services to rural areas, communities, and small towns where post offices are not self-sustaining.” 39 U. S. C. §101(b); see also §403(b)(3). Small post offices may not be closed “solely for operating at a deficit,” §101(b), and any decision to close or consolidate a post office may be appealed to the Postal Regulatory Commission, see §404(d)(5). An alleged failure by the Postal Service to comply with its statutory obligations in a particular location does not in itself provide a ground for overturning a voting rule that applies throughout an entire State.
22  The District Court also noted prior attempts on the part of the Arizona Legislature to regulate or limit third-party ballot collection in 2011 and 2013. It reasonably concluded that any procedural irregularities in those attempts had less probative value for inferring the purpose behind HB 2023 because the bills were passed “during different legislative sessions by a substantially different composition of legislators.” 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 881.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

Nos. 19–1257 and 19–1258

_________________

MARK BRNOVICH, ATTORNEY GENERAL OF ARIZONA, et al., PETITIONERS

19–1257v.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, et al.

 

ARIZONA REPUBLICAN PARTY, et al., PETITIONERS

19–1258v.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, et al.

on writs of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the ninth circuit

[July 1, 2021]

Justice Gorsuch, with whom Justice Thomas joins, concurring.

I join the Court’s opinion in full, but flag one thing it does not decide. Our cases have assumed—without deciding—that the Voting Rights Act of 1965 furnishes an implied cause of action under §2. See Mobile v. Bolden, 446 U.S. 55, 60, and n. 8 (1980) (plurality opinion). Lower courts have treated this as an open question. E.g., Washington v. Finlay, 664 F.2d 913, 926 (CA4 1981). Because no party argues that the plaintiffs lack a cause of action here, and because the existence (or not) of a cause of action does not go to a court’s subject-matter jurisdiction, see Reyes Mata v. Lynch, 576 U.S. 143, 150 (2015), this Court need not and does not address that issue today.

 

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

Nos. 19–1257 and 19–1258

_________________

MARK BRNOVICH, ATTORNEY GENERAL OF ARIZONA, et al., PETITIONERS

19–1257v.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, et al.

 

ARIZONA REPUBLICAN PARTY, et al., PETITIONERS

19–1258v.

DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE, et al.

on writs of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the ninth circuit

[July 1, 2021]

Justice Kagan, with whom Justice Breyer and Justice Sotomayor join, dissenting.

If a single statute represents the best of America, it is the Voting Rights Act. It marries two great ideals: democracy and racial equality. And it dedicates our country to carrying them out. Section 2, the provision at issue here, guarantees that members of every racial group will have equal voting opportunities. Citizens of every race will have the same shot to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice. They will all own our democracy together—no one more and no one less than any other.

If a single statute reminds us of the worst of America, it is the Voting Rights Act. Because it was—and remains—so necessary. Because a century after the Civil War was fought, at the time of the Act’s passage, the promise of political equality remained a distant dream for African American citizens. Because States and localities continually “contriv[ed] new rules,” mostly neutral on their face but discriminatory in operation, to keep minority voters from the polls. South Carolina v. Katzenbach, 383 U.S. 301, 335 (1966). Because “Congress had reason to suppose” that States would “try similar maneuvers in the future”—“pour[ing] old poison into new bottles” to suppress minority votes. Ibid.; Reno v. Bossier Parish School Bd., 528 U.S. 320, 366 (2000) (Souter, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). Because Congress has been proved right.

The Voting Rights Act is ambitious, in both goal and scope. When President Lyndon Johnson sent the bill to Congress, ten days after John Lewis led marchers across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, he explained that it was “carefully drafted to meet its objective—the end of discrimination in voting in America.” H. R. Doc. No. 120, 89th Cong., 1st Sess., 1–2 (1965). He was right about how the Act’s drafting reflected its aim. “The end of discrimination in voting” is a far-reaching goal. And the Voting Rights Act’s text is just as far-reaching. A later amendment, adding the provision at issue here, became necessary when this Court construed the statute too narrowly. And in the last decade, this Court assailed the Act again, undoing its vital Section 5. See Shelby County v. Holder, 570 U.S. 529 (2013). But Section 2 of the Act remains, as written, as expansive as ever—demanding that every citizen of this country possess a right at once grand and obvious: the right to an equal opportunity to vote.

Today, the Court undermines Section 2 and the right it provides. The majority fears that the statute Congress wrote is too “radical”—that it will invalidate too many state voting laws. See ante, at 21, 25. So the majority writes its own set of rules, limiting Section 2 from multiple directions. See ante, at 16–19. Wherever it can, the majority gives a cramped reading to broad language. And then it uses that reading to uphold two election laws from Arizona that discriminate against minority voters. I could say—and will in the following pages—that this is not how the Court is supposed to interpret and apply statutes. But that ordinary critique woefully undersells the problem. What is tragic here is that the Court has (yet again) rewritten—in order to weaken—a statute that stands as a monument to America’s greatness, and protects against its basest impulses. What is tragic is that the Court has damaged a statute designed to bring about “the end of discrimination in voting.” I respectfully dissent.

I

The Voting Rights Act of 1965 is an extraordinary law. Rarely has a statute required so much sacrifice to ensure its passage. Never has a statute done more to advance the Nation’s highest ideals. And few laws are more vital in the current moment. Yet in the last decade, this Court has treated no statute worse. To take the measure of today’s harm, a look to the Act’s past must come first. The idea is not to recount, as the majority hurriedly does, some bygone era of voting discrimination. See ante, at 2–3. It is instead to describe the electoral practices that the Act targets—and to show the high stakes of the present controversy.

A

Democratic ideals in America got off to a glorious start; democratic practice not so much. The Declaration of Independence made an awe-inspiring promise: to institute a government “deriving [its] just powers from the consent of the governed.” But for most of the Nation’s first century, that pledge ran to white men only. The earliest state election laws excluded from the franchise African Americans, Native Americans, women, and those without property. See A. Keyssar, The Right To Vote: The Contested History of Democracy in the United States 8–21, 54–60 (2000). In 1855, on the precipice of the Civil War, only five States permitted African Americans to vote. Id., at 55. And at the federal level, our Court’s most deplorable holding made sure that no black people could enter the voting booth. See Dred Scott v. Sandford, 19 How. 393 (1857).

But the “American ideal of political equality . . . could not forever tolerate the limitation of the right to vote” to whites only. Mobile v. Bolden, 446 U.S. 55, 103–104 (1980) (Marshall, J., dissenting). And a civil war, dedicated to ensuring “government of the people, by the people, for the people,” brought constitutional change. In 1870, after a hard-fought battle over ratification, the Fifteenth Amendment carried the Nation closer to its founding aspirations. “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Those words promised to enfranchise millions of black citizens who only a decade earlier had been slaves. Frederick Douglass held that the Amendment “means that we are placed upon an equal footing with all other men”—that with the vote, “liberty is to be the right of all.” 4 The Frederick Douglass Papers 270–271 (J. Blassingame & J. McKivigan eds. 1991). President Grant had seen much blood spilled in the Civil War; now he spoke of the fruits of that sacrifice. In a self-described “unusual” message to Congress, he heralded the Fifteenth Amendment as “a measure of grander importance than any other one act of the kind from the foundation of our free Government”—as “the most important event that has occurred since the nation came into life.” Ulysses S. Grant, Message to the Senate and House of Representatives (Mar. 30, 1870), in 7 Compilation of the Messages and Papers of the Presidents 1789–1897, pp. 55–56 (J. Richardson ed. 1898).

Momentous as the Fifteenth Amendment was, celebration of its achievements soon proved premature. The Amendment’s guarantees “quickly became dead letters in much of the country.” Foner, The Strange Career of the Reconstruction Amendments, 108 Yale L. J. 2003, 2007 (1999). African Americans daring to go to the polls often “met with coordinated intimidation and violence.” Northwest Austin Municipal Util. Dist. No. One v. Holder, 557 U.S. 193, 218–219 (2009) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). And almost immediately, legislators discovered that bloodless actions could also suffice to limit the electorate to white citizens. Many States, especially in the South, suppressed the black vote through a dizzying array of methods: literacy tests, poll taxes, registration requirements, and property qualifications. See Katzenbach, 383 U. S., at 310–312. Most of those laws, though facially neutral, gave enough discretion to election officials to prevent significant effects on poor or uneducated whites. The idea, as one Virginia representative put it, was “to disfranchise every negro that [he] could disfranchise,” and “as few white people as possible.” Keyssar 113. Decade after decade after decade, election rules blocked African Americans—and in some States, Hispanics and Native Americans too—from making use of the ballot. See Oregon v. Mitchell, 400 U.S. 112, 132 (1970) (opinion of Black, J.) (discussing treatment of non-black groups). By 1965, only 27% of black Georgians, 19% of black Alabamians, and 7%—yes, 7%—of black Mississippians were registered to vote. See C. Bullock, R. Gaddie, & J. Wert, The Rise and Fall of the Voting Rights Act 23 (2016).

The civil rights movement, and the events of a single Bloody Sunday, created pressure for change. Selma was the heart of an Alabama county whose 15,000 black citizens included, in 1961, only 156 on the voting rolls. See D. Garrow, Protest at Selma 31 (1978). In the first days of 1965, the city became the epicenter of demonstrations meant to force Southern election officials to register African American voters. As weeks went by without results, organizers announced a march from Selma to Birmingham. On March 7, some 600 protesters, led by future Congressman John Lewis, sought to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge. State troopers in riot gear responded brutally: “Turning their nightsticks horizontally, they rushed into the crowd, knocking people over like bowling pins.” G. May, Bending Toward Justice 87 (2013). Then came men on horseback, “swinging their clubs and ropes like cowboys driving cattle to market.” Ibid. The protestors were beaten, knocked unconscious, and bloodied. Lewis’s skull was fractured. “I thought I was going to die on this bridge,” he later recalled. Rojas, Selma Helped Define John Lewis’s Life, N. Y. Times, July 28, 2020.

A galvanized country responded. Ten days after the Selma march, President Johnson wrote to Congress proposing legislation to “help rid the Nation of racial discrimination in every aspect of the electoral process and thereby insure the right of all to vote.” H. R. Doc. No. 120, at 1. (To his attorney general, Johnson was still more emphatic: “I want you to write the goddamnedest toughest voting rights act that you can devise.” H. Raines, My Soul Is Rested 337 (1983).) And in August 1965, after the bill’s supporters overcame a Senate filibuster, Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act into law. Echoing Grant’s description of the Fifteenth Amendment, Johnson called the statute “one of the most monumental laws in the entire history of American freedom.” Public Papers of the Presidents, Lyndon B. Johnson, Vol. 2, Aug. 6, 1965, p. 841 (1966) (Johnson Papers).

“After a century’s failure to fulfill the promise” of the Fifteenth Amendment, “passage of the VRA finally led to signal improvement.” Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 562 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting). In the five years after the statute’s passage, almost as many African Americans registered to vote in six Southern States as in the entire century before 1965. See Davidson, The Voting Rights Act: A Brief History, in Controversies in Minority Voting 21 (B. Grofman & C. Davidson eds. 1992). The crudest attempts to block voting access, like literacy tests and poll taxes, disappeared. Legislatures often replaced those vote denial schemes with new measures—mostly to do with districting—designed to dilute the impact of minority votes. But the Voting Rights Act, operating for decades at full strength, stopped many of those measures too. See, e.g., Chisom v. Roemer, 501 U.S. 380 (1991); Allen v. State Bd. of Elections, 393 U.S. 544 (1969). As a famed dissent assessed the situation about a half-century after the statute’s enactment: The Voting Rights Act had become “one of the most consequential, efficacious, and amply justified exercises of federal legislative power in our Nation’s history.” Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 562 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting).[1]

B

Yet efforts to suppress the minority vote continue. No one would know this from reading the majority opinion. It hails the “good news” that legislative efforts had mostly shifted by the 1980s from vote denial to vote dilution. Ante, at 7. And then it moves on to other matters, as though the Voting Rights Act no longer has a problem to address—as though once literacy tests and poll taxes disappeared, so too did efforts to curb minority voting. But as this Court recognized about a decade ago, “racial discrimination and racially polarized voting are not ancient history.” Bartlett v. Strickland, 556 U.S. 1, 25 (2009). Indeed, the problem of voting discrimination has become worse since that time—in part because of what this Court did in Shelby County. Weaken the Voting Rights Act, and predictable consequences follow: yet a further generation of voter suppression laws.

Much of the Voting Rights Act’s success lay in its capacity to meet ever-new forms of discrimination. Experience showed that “[w]henever one form of voting discrimination was identified and prohibited, others sprang up in its place.” Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 560 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting). Combating those efforts was like “battling the Hydra”—or to use a less cultured reference, like playing a game of whack-a-mole. Ibid. So Congress, in Section 5 of the Act, gave the Department of Justice authority to review all new rules devised by jurisdictions with a history of voter suppression—and to block any that would have discriminatory effects. See 52 U. S. C. §§10304(a)–(b). In that way, the Act would prevent the use of new, more nuanced methods to restrict the voting opportunities of non-white citizens.

And for decades, Section 5 operated as intended. Between 1965 and 2006, the Department stopped almost 1200 voting laws in covered areas from taking effect. See Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 571 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting). Some of those laws used districting to dilute minority voting strength—making sure that the votes of minority citizens would carry less weight than the votes of whites in electing candidates. Other laws, even if facially neutral, disproportionately curbed the ability of non-white citizens to cast a ballot at all. So, for example, a jurisdiction might require forms of identification that those voters were less likely to have; or it might limit voting places and times convenient for those voters; or it might purge its voter rolls through mechanisms especially likely to ensnare them. See id., at 574–575. In reviewing mountains of such evidence in 2006, Congress saw a continuing need for Section 5. Although “discrimination today is more subtle than the visible methods used in 1965,” Congress found, it still produces “the same [effects], namely a diminishing of the minority community’s ability to fully participate in the electoral process.” H. R. Rep. No. 109–478, p. 6 (2006). Congress thus reauthorized the preclearance scheme for 25 years.

But this Court took a different view. Finding that “[o]ur country has changed,” the Court saw only limited instances of voting discrimination—and so no further need for preclearance. Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 547–549, 557. Displacing Congress’s contrary judgment, the Court struck down the coverage formula essential to the statute’s operation. The legal analysis offered was perplexing: The Court based its decision on a “principle of equal [state] sovereignty” that a prior decision of ours had rejected—and that has not made an appearance since. Id., at 544 (majority opinion); see id., at 587–588 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting). Worse yet was the Court’s blithe confidence in assessing what was needed and what was not. “[T]hings have changed dramatically,” the Court reiterated, id., at 547: The statute that was once a necessity had become an imposition. But how did the majority know there was nothing more for Section 5 to do—that the (undoubted) changes in the country went so far as to make the provision unnecessary? It didn’t, as Justice Ginsburg explained in dissent. The majority’s faith that discrimination was almost gone derived, at least in part, from the success of Section 5—from its record of blocking discriminatory voting schemes. Discarding Section 5 because those schemes had diminished was “like throwing away your umbrella in a rainstorm because you are not getting wet.” Id., at 590.

The rashness of the act soon became evident. Once Section 5’s strictures came off, States and localities put in place new restrictive voting laws, with foreseeably adverse effects on minority voters. On the very day Shelby County issued, Texas announced that it would implement a strict voter-identification requirement that had failed to clear Section 5. See Elmendorf & Spencer, Administering Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act After Shelby County, 115 Colum. L. Rev. 2143, 2145–2146 (2015). Other States—Alabama, Virginia, Mississippi—fell like dominoes, adopting measures similarly vulnerable to preclearance review. See ibid. The North Carolina Legislature, starting work the day after Shelby County, enacted a sweeping election bill eliminating same-day registration, forbidding out-of-precinct voting, and reducing early voting, including souls-to-the-polls Sundays. (That law went too far even without Section 5: A court struck it down because the State’s legislators had a racially discriminatory purpose. North Carolina State Conference of NAACP v. McCrory, 831 F.3d 204 (CA4 2016).) States and localities redistricted—drawing new boundary lines or replacing neighborhood-based seats with at-large seats—in ways guaranteed to reduce minority representation. See Elmendorf, 115 Colum. L. Rev., at 2146. And jurisdictions closed polling places in mostly minority areas, enhancing an already pronounced problem. See Brief for Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights et al. as Amici Curiae 14–15 (listing closure schemes); Pettigrew, The Racial Gap in Wait Times, 132 Pol. Sci. Q. 527, 527 (2017) (finding that lines in minority precincts are twice as long as in white ones, and that a minority voter is six times more likely to wait more than an hour).[2]

And that was just the first wave of post-Shelby County laws. In recent months, State after State has taken up or enacted legislation erecting new barriers to voting. See Brennan Center for Justice, Voting Laws Roundup: May 2021 (online source archived at www.supremecourt.gov) (compiling legislation). Those laws shorten the time polls are open, both on Election Day and before. They impose new prerequisites to voting by mail, and shorten the windows to apply for and return mail ballots. They make it harder to register to vote, and easier to purge voters from the rolls. Two laws even ban handing out food or water to voters standing in line. Some of those restrictions may be lawful under the Voting Rights Act. But chances are that some have the kind of impact the Act was designed to prevent—that they make the political process less open to minority voters than to others.

So the Court decides this Voting Rights Act case at a perilous moment for the Nation’s commitment to equal citizenship. It decides this case in an era of voting-rights retrenchment—when too many States and localities are restricting access to voting in ways that will predictably deprive members of minority groups of equal access to the ballot box. If “any racial discrimination in voting is too much,” as the Shelby County Court recited, then the Act still has much to do. 570 U. S., at 557. Or more precisely, the fraction of the Act remaining—the Act as diminished by the Court’s hand. Congress never meant for Section 2 to bear all of the weight of the Act’s commitments. That provision looks to courts, not to the Executive Branch, to restrain discriminatory voting practices. And litigation is an after-the-fact remedy, incapable of providing relief until an election—usually, more than one election—has come and gone. See id., at 572 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting). So Section 2 was supposed to be a back-up, for all its sweep and power. But after Shelby County, the vitality of Section 2—a “permanent, nationwide ban on racial discrimination in voting”—matters more than ever. Id., at 557 (majority opinion). For after Shelby County, Section 2 is what voters have left.

II

Section 2, as drafted, is well-equipped to meet the challenge. Congress meant to eliminate all “discriminatory election systems or practices which operate, designedly or otherwise, to minimize or cancel out the voting strength and political effectiveness of minority groups.” S. Rep. No. 97–417, p. 28 (1982) (S. Rep.). And that broad intent is manifest in the provision’s broad text. As always, this Court’s task is to read that language as Congress wrote it—to give the section all the scope and potency Congress drafted it to have. So I start by showing how Section 2’s text requires courts to eradicate voting practices that make it harder for members of some races than of others to cast a vote, unless such a practice is necessary to support a strong state interest. I then show how far from that text the majority strays. Its analysis permits exactly the kind of vote suppression that Section 2, by its terms, rules out of bounds.

A

Section 2, as relevant here, has two interlocking parts. Subsection (a) states the law’s basic prohibition:

“No voting qualification or prerequisite to voting or standard, practice, or procedure shall be imposed or applied by any State or political subdivision in a manner which results in a denial or abridgement of the right of any citizen of the United States to vote on account of race or color.” 52 U. S. C. §10301(a).

Subsection (b) then tells courts how to apply that bar—or otherwise said, when to find that an infringement of the voting right has occurred:

“A violation of subsection (a) is established if, based on the totality of circumstances, it is shown that the political processes leading to nomination or election in the State or political subdivision are not equally open to participation by members of [a given race] in that [those] members have less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect representatives of their choice.” §10301(b).[3]

Those provisions have a great many words, and I address them further below. But their essential import is plain: Courts are to strike down voting rules that contribute to a racial disparity in the opportunity to vote, taking all the relevant circumstances into account.

The first thing to note about Section 2 is how far its prohibitory language sweeps. The provision bars any “voting qualification,” any “prerequisite to voting,” or any “standard, practice, or procedure” that “results in a denial or abridgement of the right” to “vote on account of race.” The overlapping list of covered state actions makes clear that Section 2 extends to every kind of voting or election rule. Congress carved out nothing pertaining to “voter qualifications or the manner in which elections are conducted.” Holder v. Hall, 512 U.S. 874, 922 (1994) (Thomas, J., concurring in judgment). So, for example, the provision “covers all manner of registration requirements, the practices surrounding registration,” the “locations of polling places, the times polls are open, the use of paper ballots as opposed to voting machines, and other similar aspects of the voting process that might be manipulated to deny any citizen the right to cast a ballot and have it properly counted.” Ibid. All those rules and more come within the statute—so long as they result in a race-based “denial or abridgement” of the voting right. And the “denial or abridgement” phrase speaks broadly too. “[A]bridgment necessarily means something more subtle and less drastic than the complete denial of the right to cast a ballot, denial being separately forbidden.” Bossier, 528 U. S., at 359 (Souter, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). It means to “curtail,” rather than take away, the voting right. American Heritage Dictionary 4 (1969).

The “results in” language, connecting the covered voting rules to the prohibited voting abridgement, tells courts that they are to focus on the law’s effects. Rather than hinge liability on state officials’ motives, Congress made it ride on their actions’ consequences. That decision was as considered as considered comes. This Court, as the majority notes, had construed the original Section 2 to apply to facially neutral voting practices “only if [they were] motivated by a discriminatory purpose.” Bolden, 446 U. S., at 62; see ante, at 5. Congress enacted the current Section 2 to reverse that outcome—to make clear that “results” alone could lead to liability. An intent test, the Senate Report explained, “asks the wrong question.” S. Rep., at 36. If minority citizens “are denied a fair opportunity to participate,” then “the system should be changed, regardless of ” what “motives were in an official’s mind.” Ibid. Congress also saw an intent test as imposing “an inordinately difficult burden for plaintiffs.” Ibid. Even if state actors had purposefully discriminated, they would likely be “ab[le] to offer a non-racial rationalization,” supported by “a false trail” of “official resolutions” and “other legislative history eschewing any racial motive.” Id., at 37. So only a results-focused statute could prevent States from finding ways to abridge minority citizens’ voting rights.

But when to conclude—looking to effects, not purposes—that a denial or abridgment has occurred? Again, answering that question is subsection (b)’s function. See supra, at 12–13. It teaches that a violation is established when, “based on the totality of circumstances,” a State’s electoral system is “not equally open” to members of a racial group. And then the subsection tells us what that means. A system is not equally open if members of one race have “less opportunity” than others to cast votes, to participate in politics, or to elect representatives. The key demand, then, is for equal political opportunity across races.

That equal “opportunity” is absent when a law or practice makes it harder for members of one racial group, than for others, to cast ballots. When Congress amended Section 2, the word “opportunity” meant what it also does today: “a favorable or advantageous combination of circumstances” for some action. See American Heritage Dictionary, at 922. In using that word, Congress made clear that the Voting Rights Act does not demand equal outcomes. If members of different races have the same opportunity to vote, but go to the ballot box at different rates, then so be it—that is their preference, and Section 2 has nothing to say. But if a law produces different voting opportunities across races—if it establishes rules and conditions of political participation that are less favorable (or advantageous) for one racial group than for others—then Section 2 kicks in. It applies, in short, whenever the law makes it harder for citizens of one race than of others to cast a vote.[4]

And that is so even if (as is usually true) the law does not single out any race, but instead is facially neutral. Suppose, as Justice Scalia once did, that a county has a law limiting “voter registration [to] only three hours one day a week.” Chisom, 501 U. S., at 408 (dissenting opinion). And suppose that policy makes it “more difficult for blacks to register than whites”—say, because the jobs African Americans disproportionately hold make it harder to take time off in that window. Ibid. Those citizens, Justice Scalia concluded, would then “have less opportunity ‘to participate in the political process’ than whites, and §2 would therefore be violated.” Ibid. (emphasis deleted). In enacting Section 2, Congress documented many similar (if less extreme) facially neutral rules—“registration requirements,” “voting and registration hours,” voter “purging” policies, and so forth—that create disparities in voting opportunities. S. Rep., at 10, n. 22; H. R. Rep. No. 97–227, pp. 11–17 (1981) (H. R. Rep.). Those laws, Congress thought, would violate Section 2, though they were not facially discriminatory, because they gave voters of different races unequal access to the political process.

Congress also made plain, in calling for a totality-of- circumstances inquiry, that equal voting opportunity is a function of both law and background conditions—in other words, that a voting rule’s validity depends on how the rule operates in conjunction with facts on the ground. “[T]otality review,” this Court has explained, stems from Congress’s recognition of “the demonstrated ingenuity of state and local governments in hobbling minority voting power.” Johnson v. De Grandy, 512 U.S. 997, 1018 (1994). Sometimes, of course, state actions overtly target a single race: For example, Congress was acutely aware, in amending Section 2, of the elimination of polling places in African American neighborhoods. See S. Rep., at 10, 11, and n. 22; H. R. Rep., at 17, 35. But sometimes government officials enact facially neutral laws that leverage—and become discriminatory by dint of—pre-existing social and economic conditions. The classic historical cases are literacy tests and poll taxes. A more modern example is the one Justice Scalia gave, of limited registration hours. Congress knew how those laws worked: It saw that “inferior education, poor employment opportunities, and low incomes”—all conditions often correlated with race—could turn even an ordinary-seeming election rule into an effective barrier to minority voting in certain circumstances. Thornburg v. Gingles, 478 U.S. 30, 69 (1986) (plurality opinion). So Congress demanded, as this Court has recognized, “an intensely local appraisal” of a rule’s impact—“a searching practical evaluation of the ‘past and present reality.’ ” Id., at 79; De Grandy, 512 U. S., at 1018 (quoting S. Rep., at 30). “The essence of a §2 claim,” we have said, is that an election law “interacts with social and historical conditions” in a particular place to cause race-based inequality in voting opportunity. Gingles, 478 U. S., at 47 (majority opinion). That interaction is what the totality inquiry is mostly designed to discover.

At the same time, the totality inquiry enables courts to take into account strong state interests supporting an election rule. An all-things-considered inquiry, we have explained, is by its nature flexible. See De Grandy, 512 U. S., at 1018. On the one hand, it allows no “safe harbor[s]” for election rules resulting in discrimination. Ibid. On the other hand, it precludes automatic condemnation of those rules. Among the “balance of considerations” a court is to weigh is a State’s need for the challenged policy. Houston Lawyers’ Assn. v. Attorney General of Tex., 501 U.S. 419, 427 (1991). But in making that assessment of state interests, a court must keep in mind—just as Congress did—the ease of “offer[ing] a non-racial rationalization” for even blatantly discriminatory laws. S. Rep., at 37; see supra, at 14. State interests do not get accepted on faith. And even a genuine and strong interest will not suffice if a plaintiff can prove that it can be accomplished in a less discriminatory way. As we have put the point before: When a less racially biased law would not “significantly impair[ ] the State’s interest,” the discriminatory election rule must fall. Houston Lawyers’ Assn., 501 U. S., at 428.[5]

So the text of Section 2, as applied in our precedents, tells us the following, every part of which speaks to the ambition of Congress’s action. Section 2 applies to any voting rule, of any kind. The provision prohibits not just the denial but also the abridgment of a citizen’s voting rights on account of race. The inquiry is focused on effects: It asks not about why state officials enacted a rule, but about whether that rule results in racial discrimination. The discrimination that is of concern is inequality of voting opportunity. That kind of discrimination can arise from facially neutral (not just targeted) rules. There is a Section 2 problem when an election rule, operating against the backdrop of historical, social, and economic conditions, makes it harder for minority citizens than for others to cast ballots. And strong state interests may save an otherwise discriminatory rule, but only if that rule is needed to achieve them—that is, only if a less discriminatory rule will not attain the State’s goal.

That is a lot of law to apply in a Section 2 case. Real law—the kind created by Congress. (A strange thing, to hear about it all only in a dissent.)[6] None of this law threatens to “take down,” as the majority charges, the mass of state and local election rules. Ante, at 25. Here is the flipside of what I have said above, now from the plaintiff ’s perspective: Section 2 demands proof of a statistically significant racial disparity in electoral opportunities (not outcomes) resulting from a law not needed to achieve a government’s legitimate goals. That showing is hardly insubstantial; and as a result, Section 2 vote denial suits do not often succeed (even with lower courts applying the law as written, not the majority’s new, concocted version). See Brief for State and Local Election Officials as Amici Curiae 15 (finding only nine winning cases since Shelby County, each involving “an intensely local appraisal” of a “controversial polic[y] in specific places”). But Section 2 was indeed meant to do something important—crucial to the operation of our democracy. The provision tells courts—however “radical” the majority might find the idea, ante, at 25—to eliminate facially neutral (as well as targeted) electoral rules that unnecessarily create inequalities of access to the political process. That is the very project of the statute, as conceived and as written—and now as damaged by this Court.

B

The majority’s opinion mostly inhabits a law-free zone. It congratulates itself in advance for giving Section 2’s text “careful consideration.” Ante, at 14. And then it leaves that language almost wholly behind. See ante, at 14–21. (Every once in a while, when its lawmaking threatens to leap off the page, it thinks to sprinkle in a few random statutory words.) So too the majority barely mentions this Court’s precedents construing Section 2’s text. On both those counts, you can see why. As just described, Section 2’s language is broad. See supra, at 12–20. To read it fairly, then, is to read it broadly. And to read it broadly is to do much that the majority is determined to avoid. So the majority ignores the sweep of Section 2’s prohibitory language. It fails to note Section 2’s application to every conceivable kind of voting rule. It neglects to address the provision’s concern with how those rules may “abridge[ ],” not just deny, minority citizens’ voting rights. It declines to consider Congress’s use of an effects test, rather than a purpose test, to assess the rules’ legality. Nor does the majority acknowledge the force of Section 2’s implementing provision. The majority says as little as possible about what it means for voting to be “equally open,” or for voters to have an equal “opportunity” to cast a ballot. See ante, at 14–15. It only grudgingly accepts—and then apparently forgets—that the provision applies to facially neutral laws with discriminatory consequences. Compare ante, at 22, with ante, at 25. And it hints that as long as a voting system is sufficiently “open,” it need not be equally so. See ante, at 16, 18. In sum, the majority skates over the strong words Congress drafted to accomplish its equally strong purpose: ensuring that minority citizens can access the electoral system as easily as whites.[7]

The majority instead founds its decision on a list of mostly made-up factors, at odds with Section 2 itself. To excuse this unusual free-form exercise, the majority notes that Section 2 authorizes courts to conduct a “totality of circumstances” analysis. Ante, at 16. But as described above, Congress mainly added that language so that Section 2 could protect against “the demonstrated ingenuity of state and local governments in hobbling minority voting power.” De Grandy, 512 U. S., at 1018; see supra, at 16–17. The totality inquiry requires courts to explore how ordinary-seeming laws can interact with local conditions—economic, social, historical—to produce race-based voting inequalities. That inquiry hardly gives a court the license to devise whatever limitations on Section 2’s reach it would have liked Congress to enact. But that is the license the majority takes. The “important circumstances” it invents all cut in one direction—toward limiting liability for race-based voting inequalities. Ante, at 16. (Indeed, the majority gratuitously dismisses several factors that point the opposite way. See ante, at 19–21.) Think of the majority’s list as a set of extra-textual restrictions on Section 2—methods of counteracting the law Congress actually drafted to achieve the purposes Congress thought “important.” The list—not a test, the majority hastens to assure us, with delusions of modesty—stacks the deck against minority citizens’ voting rights. Never mind that Congress drafted a statute to protect those rights—to prohibit any number of schemes the majority’s non-test test makes it possible to save.

Start with the majority’s first idea: a “[m]ere inconvenience[ ]” exception to Section 2. Ante, at 16. Voting, the majority says, imposes a set of “usual burdens”: Some time, some travel, some rule compliance. Ibid. And all of that is beneath the notice of Section 2—even if those burdens fall highly unequally on members of different races. See ibid. But that categorical exclusion, for seemingly small (or “[un]usual” or “[un]serious”) burdens, is nowhere in the provision’s text. To the contrary (and as this Court has recognized before), Section 2 allows no “safe harbor[s]” for election rules resulting in disparate voting opportunities. De Grandy, 512 U. S., at 1018; see supra, at 17. The section applies to any discriminatory “voting qualification,” “prerequisite to voting,” or “standard, practice, or procedure”—even the kind creating only (what the majority thinks of as) an ordinary burden. And the section cares about any race-based “abridgments” of voting, not just measures that come near to preventing that activity. Congress, recall, was intent on eradicating the “subtle, as well as the obvious,” ways of suppressing minority voting. Allen, 393 U. S., at 565; see supra, at 14. One of those more subtle ways is to impose “inconveniences,” especially a collection of them, differentially affecting members of one race. The certain result—because every inconvenience makes voting both somewhat more difficult and somewhat less likely—will be to deter minority votes. In countenancing such an election system, the majority departs from Congress’s vision, set down in text, of ensuring equal voting opportunity. It chooses equality-lite.

And what is a “mere inconvenience” or “usual burden” anyway? The drafters of the Voting Rights Act understood that “social and historical conditions,” including disparities in education, wealth, and employment, often affect opportunities to vote. Gingles, 478 U. S., at 47; see supra, at 16–17. What does not prevent one citizen from casting a vote might prevent another. How is a judge supposed to draw an “inconvenience” line in some reasonable place, taking those differences into account? Consider a law banning the handing out of water to voters. No more than—or not even—an inconvenience when lines are short; but what of when they are, as in some neighborhoods, hours-long? The point here is that judges lack an objective way to decide which voting obstacles are “mere” and which are not, for all voters at all times. And so Section 2 does not ask the question.

The majority’s “multiple ways to vote” factor is similarly flawed. Ante, at 18. True enough, a State with three ways to vote (say, on Election Day; early in person; or by mail) may be more “open” than a State with only one (on Election Day). And some other statute might care about that. But Section 2 does not. What it cares about is that a State’s “political processes” are “equally open” to voters of all races. And a State’s electoral process is not equally open if, for example, the State “only” makes Election Day voting by members of one race peculiarly difficult. The House Report on Section 2 addresses that issue. It explains that an election system would violate Section 2 if minority citizens had a lesser opportunity than white citizens to use absentee ballots. See H. R. Rep., at 31, n. 106. Even if the minority citizens could just as easily vote in person, the scheme would “result in unequal access to the political process.” Id., at 31. That is not some piece of contestable legislative history. It is the only reading of Section 2 possible, given the statute’s focus on equality. Maybe the majority does not mean to contest that proposition; its discussion of this supposed factor is short and cryptic. But if the majority does intend to excuse so much discrimination, it is wrong. Making one method of voting less available to minority citizens than to whites necessarily means giving the former “less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process.” §10301(b).

The majority’s history-and-commonality factor also pushes the inquiry away from what the statute demands. The oddest part of the majority’s analysis is the idea that “what was standard practice when §2 was amended in 1982 is a relevant consideration.” Ante, at 16. The 1982 state of the world is no part of the Section 2 test. An election rule prevalent at that time may make voting harder for minority than for white citizens; Section 2 then covers such a rule, as it covers any other. And contrary to the majority’s unsupported speculation, Congress “intended” exactly that. Ante, at 17; see H. R. Rep., at 14 (explaining that the Act aimed to eradicate the “numerous practices and procedures which act as continued barriers to registration and voting”).[8] Section 2 was meant to disrupt the status quo, not to preserve it—to eradicate then-current discriminatory practices, not to set them in amber. See Bossier, 528 U. S., at 334 (under Section 2, “[i]f the status quo” abridges the right to vote “relative to what the right to vote ought to be, the status quo itself must be changed”).[9] And as to election rules common now, the majority oversimplifies. Even if those rules are unlikely to violate Section 2 everywhere, they may easily do so somewhere. That is because the demographics and political geography of States vary widely and Section 2’s application depends on place-specific facts. As we have recognized, the statute calls for “an intensely local appraisal,” not a count-up-the-States exercise. Gingles, 478 U. S., at 79; see supra, at 17. This case, as I’ll later discuss, offers a perfect illustration of how the difference between those two approaches can matter. See infra, at 29–40.

That leaves only the majority’s discussion of state interests, which is again skewed so as to limit Section 2 liability. No doubt that under our precedent, a state interest in an election rule “is a legitimate factor to be considered.” Houston Lawyers’ Assn., 501 U. S., at 426. But the majority wrongly dismisses the need for the closest possible fit between means and end—that is, between the terms of the rule and the State’s asserted interest. Ante, at 21. In the past, this Court has stated that a discriminatory election rule must fall, no matter how weighty the interest claimed, if a less biased law would not “significantly impair[ that] interest.” Houston Lawyers’ Assn., 501 U. S., at 428; see supra, at 17–18, and n. 5. And as the majority concedes, we apply that kind of means-end standard in every other context—employment, housing, banking—where the law addresses racially discriminatory effects: There, the rule must be “strict[ly] necess[ary]” to the interest. Ante, at 21; see, e.g., Albemarle Paper Co. v. Moody, 422 U.S. 405, 425 (1975) (holding that an employment policy cannot stand if another policy, “without a similarly undesirable racial effect, would also serve the employer’s legitimate interest”). The majority argues that “[t]he text of [those] provisions” differs from Section 2’s. Ante, at 20. But if anything, Section 2 gives less weight to competing interests: Unlike in most discrimination laws, they enter the inquiry only through the provision’s reference to the “totality of circumstances”—through, then, a statutory backdoor. So the majority falls back on the idea that “[d]emanding such a tight fit would have the effect of invalidating a great many neutral voting regulations.” Ante, at 21; see ante, at 25. But a state interest becomes relevant only when a voting rule, even if neutral on its face, is found not neutral in operation—only, that is, when the rule provides unequal access to the political process. Apparently, the majority does not want to “invalidate [too] many” of those actually discriminatory rules. But Congress had a different goal in enacting Section 2.

The majority’s approach, which would ask only whether a discriminatory law “reasonably pursue[s] important state interests,” gives election officials too easy an escape from Section 2. Ante, at 25 (emphasis added). Of course preventing voter intimidation is an important state interest. And of course preventing election fraud is the same. But those interests are also easy to assert groundlessly or pretextually in voting discrimination cases. Congress knew that when it passed Section 2. Election officials can all too often, the Senate Report noted, “offer a non-racial rationalization” for even laws that “purposely discriminate[ ].” S. Rep., at 37; see supra, at 14, 17–18, and n. 5. A necessity test filters out those offerings. See, e.g., Albemarle, 422 U. S., at 425. It thereby prevents election officials from flouting, circumventing, or discounting Section 2’s command not to discriminate.

In that regard, the past offers a lesson to the present. Throughout American history, election officials have asserted anti-fraud interests in using voter suppression laws. Poll taxes, the classic mechanism to keep black people from voting, were often justified as “preserv[ing] the purity of the ballot box [and] facilitat[ing] honest elections.” J. Kousser, The Shaping of Southern Politics 111, n. 9 (1974). A raft of election regulations—including “elaborate registration procedures” and “early poll closings”—similarly excluded white immigrants (Irish, Italians, and so on) from the polls on the ground of “prevent[ing] fraud and corruption.” Keyssar 159; see ibid. (noting that in those times “claims of widespread corruption” were backed “almost entirely” by “anecdotes [with] little systematic investigation or evidence”). Take even the majority’s example of a policy advancing an “important state interest”: “the use of private voting booths,” in which voters marked their own ballots. Ante, at 19. In the majority’s high-minded account, that innovation—then known as the Australian voting system, for the country that introduced it—served entirely to prevent undue influence. But when adopted, it also prevented many illiterate citizens—especially African Americans—from voting. And indeed, that was partly the point. As an 1892 Arkansas song went:

The Australian Ballot works like a charm,

It makes them think and scratch,

And when a Negro gets a ballot

He has certainly got his match.

Kousser 54. Across the South, the Australian ballot decreased voter participation among whites by anywhere from 8% to 28% but among African Americans by anywhere from 15% to 45%. See id., at 56. Does that mean secret ballot laws violate Section 2 today? Of course not. But should the majority’s own example give us all a bit of pause? Yes, it should. It serves as a reminder that States have always found it natural to wrap discriminatory policies in election-integrity garb.

Congress enacted Section 2 to prevent those maneuvers from working. It knew that States and localities had over time enacted measure after measure imposing discriminatory voting burdens. And it knew that governments were proficient in justifying those measures on non-racial grounds. So Congress called a halt. It enacted a statute that would strike down all unnecessary laws, including facially neutral ones, that result in members of a racial group having unequal access to the political process.

But the majority is out of sympathy with that measure. The majority thinks a statute that would remove those laws is not, as Justice Ginsburg once called it, “consequential, efficacious, and amply justified.” Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 562 (dissenting opinion). Instead, the majority thinks it too “radical” to stomach. Ante, at 21, 25. The majority objects to an excessive “transfer of the authority to set voting rules from the States to the federal courts.” Ante, at 25. It even sees that transfer as “[un]democratic.” Ibid. But maybe the majority should pay more attention to the “historical background” that it insists “does not tell us how to decide this case.” Ante, at 21. That history makes clear the incongruity, in interpreting this statute, of the majority’s paean to state authority—and conversely, its denigration of federal responsibility for ensuring non-discriminatory voting rules. The Voting Rights Act was meant to replace state and local election rules that needlessly make voting harder for members of one race than for others. The text of the Act perfectly reflects that objective. The “democratic” principle it upholds is not one of States’ rights as against federal courts. The democratic principle it upholds is the right of every American, of every race, to have equal access to the ballot box. The majority today undermines that principle as it refuses to apply the terms of the statute. By declaring some racially discriminatory burdens inconsequential, and by refusing to subject asserted state interests to serious means-end scrutiny, the majority enables voting discrimination.

III

Just look at Arizona. Two of that State’s policies disproportionately affect minority citizens’ opportunity to vote. The first—the out-of-precinct policy—results in Hispanic and African American voters’ ballots being thrown out at a statistically higher rate than those of whites. And whatever the majority might say about the ordinariness of such a rule, Arizona applies it in extra-ordinary fashion: Arizona is the national outlier in dealing with out-of-precinct votes, with the next-worst offender nowhere in sight. The second rule—the ballot-collection ban—makes voting meaningfully more difficult for Native American citizens than for others. And nothing about how that ban is applied is “usual” either—this time because of how many of the State’s Native American citizens need to travel long distances to use the mail. Both policies violate Section 2, on a straightforward application of its text. Considering the “totality of circumstances,” both “result in” members of some races having “less opportunity than other members of the electorate to participate in the political process and to elect a representative of their choice.” §10301(b). The majority reaches the opposite conclusion because it closes its eyes to the facts on the ground.[10]

A

Arizona’s out-of-precinct policy requires discarding any Election Day ballot cast elsewhere than in a voter’s assigned precinct. Under the policy, officials throw out every choice in every race—including national or statewide races (e.g., for President or Governor) that appear identically on every precinct’s ballot. The question is whether that policy unequally affects minority citizens’ opportunity to cast a vote.

Although the majority portrays Arizona’s use of the rule as “unremarkable,” ante, at 26, the State is in fact a national aberration when it comes to discarding out-of- precinct ballots. In 2012, about 35,000 ballots across the country were thrown out because they were cast at the wrong precinct. See U. S. Election Assistance Commission, 2012 Election Administration and Voting Survey 53 (2013). Nearly one in three of those discarded votes—10,979—was cast in Arizona. Id., at 52. As the Court of Appeals concluded, and the chart below indicates, Arizona threw away ballots in that year at 11 times the rate of the second-place discarder (Washington State). Democratic Nat. Committee v. Hobbs, 948 F.3d 989, 1001 (CA9 2020); see App. 72. Somehow the majority labels that difference “marginal[ ],” ante, at 27, but it is anything but. More recently, the number of discarded ballots in the State has gotten smaller: Arizona counties have increasingly abandoned precinct-based voting (in favor of county-wide “vote centers”), so the out-of-precinct rule has fewer votes to operate on. And the majority primarily relies on those latest (2016) numbers. But across the five elections at issue in this litigation (2008–2016), Arizona threw away far more out-of-precinct votes—almost 40,000—than did any other State in the country.

 

Votes in such numbers can matter—enough for Section 2 to apply. The majority obliquely suggests not, comparing the smallish number of thrown-out votes (minority and non-minority alike) to the far larger number of votes cast and counted. See ante, at 27. But elections are often fought and won at the margins—certainly in Arizona. Consider the number of votes separating the two presidential candidates in the most recent election: 10,457. That is fewer votes than Arizona discarded under the out-of-precinct policy in two of the prior three presidential elections. This Court previously rejected the idea—the “erroneous assumption”—“that a small group of voters can never influence the outcome of an election.” Chisom, 501 U. S., at 397, n. 24. For that reason, we held that even “a small minority” group can claim Section 2 protection. See ibid. Similarly here, the out-of-precinct policy—which discards thousands upon thousands of ballots in every election—affects more than sufficient votes to implicate Section 2’s guarantee of equal electoral opportunity.

And the out-of-precinct policy operates unequally: Ballots cast by minorities are more likely to be discarded. In 2016, Hispanics, African Americans, and Native Americans were about twice as likely—or said another way, 100% more likely—to have their ballots discarded than whites. See App. 122. And it is possible to break that down a bit. Sixty percent of the voting in Arizona is from Maricopa County. There, Hispanics were 110% more likely, African Americans 86% more likely, and Native Americans 73% more likely to have their ballots tossed. See id., at 153. Pima County, the next largest county, provides another 15% of the statewide vote. There, Hispanics were 148% more likely, African Americans 80% more likely, and Native Americans 74% more likely to lose their votes. See id., at 157. The record does not contain statewide figures for 2012. But in Maricopa and Pima Counties, the percentages were about the same as in 2016. See id., at 87, 91. Assessing those disparities, the plaintiffs’ expert found, and the District Court accepted, that the discriminatory impact of the out-of-precinct policy was statistically significant—meaning, again, that it was highly unlikely to occur by chance. See Democratic Nat. Committee v. Reagan, 329 F. Supp. 3d 824, 871 (Ariz. 2018); supra, at 15, n. 4.

The majority is wrong to assert that those statistics are “highly misleading.” Ante, at 28. In the majority’s view, they can be dismissed because the great mass of voters are unaffected by the out-of-precinct policy. See ibid. But Section 2 is less interested in “absolute terms” (as the majority calls them) than in relative ones. Ante, at 27; see supra, at 14–15. Arizona’s policy creates a statistically significant disparity between minority and white voters: Because of the policy, members of different racial groups do not in fact have an equal likelihood of having their ballots counted. Suppose a State decided to throw out 1% of the Hispanic vote each election. Presumably, the majority would not approve the action just because 99% of the Hispanic vote is unaffected. Nor would the majority say that Hispanics in that system have an equal shot of casting an effective ballot. Here, the policy is not so overt; but under Section 2, that difference does not matter. Because the policy “results in” statistically significant inequality, it implicates Section 2. And the kind of inequality that the policy produces is not the kind only a statistician could see. A rule that throws out, each and every election, thousands of votes cast by minority citizens is a rule that can affect election outcomes. If you were a minority vote suppressor in Arizona or elsewhere, you would want that rule in your bag of tricks. You would not think it remotely irrelevant.

And the case against Arizona’s policy grows only stronger the deeper one digs. The majority fails to conduct the “searching practical evaluation” of “past and present reality” that Section 2’s “totality of circumstances” inquiry demands. De Grandy, 512 U. S., at 1018. Had the majority done so, it would have discovered why Arizona’s out-of- precinct policy has such a racially disparate impact on voting opportunity. Much of the story has to do with the siting and shifting of polling places. Arizona moves polling places at a startling rate. Maricopa County (recall, Arizona’s largest by far) changed 40% or more of polling places before both the 2008 and the 2012 elections. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 858 (noting also that changes “continued to occur in 2016”). In 2012 (the election with the best data), voters affected by those changes had an out-of-precinct voting rate that was 40% higher than other voters did. See ibid. And, critically, Maricopa’s relocations hit minority voters harder than others. In 2012, the county moved polling stations in African American and Hispanic neighborhoods 30% more often than in white ones. See App. 110–111. The odds of those changes leading to mistakes increased yet further because the affected areas are home to citizens with relatively low education and income levels. See id., at 170–171. And even putting relocations aside, the siting of polling stations in minority areas caused significant out-of-precinct voting. Hispanic and Native American voters had to travel further than white voters did to their assigned polling places. See id., at 109. And all minority voters were disproportionately likely to be assigned to polling places other than the ones closest to where they lived. See id., at 109, and n. 30, 175–176. Small wonder, given such siting decisions, that minority voters found it harder to identify and get to their correct precincts. But the majority does not address these matters.[11]

Facts also undermine the State’s asserted interests, which the majority hangs its hat on. A government interest, as even the majority recognizes, is “merely one factor to be considered” in Section 2’s totality analysis. Houston Lawyers’ Assn., 501 U. S., at 427; see ante, at 19. Here, the State contends that it needs the out-of-precinct policy to support a precinct-based voting system. But 20 other States combine precinct-based systems with mechanisms for partially counting out-of-precinct ballots (that is, counting the votes for offices like President or Governor). And the District Court found that it would be “administratively feasible” for Arizona to join that group. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 860. Arizona—echoed by the majority—objects that adopting a partial-counting approach would decrease compliance with the vote-in-your-precinct rule (by reducing the penalty for a voter’s going elsewhere). But there is more than a little paradox in that response. We know from the extraordinary number of ballots Arizona discards that its current system fails utterly to “induce[ ] compliance.” Ante, at 28–29; see supra, at 30–31. Presumably, that is because the system—most notably, its placement and shifting of polling places—sows an unparalleled level of voter confusion. A State that makes compliance with an election rule so unusually hard is in no position to claim that its interest in “induc[ing] compliance” outweighs the need to remedy the race-based discrimination that rule has caused.

B

Arizona’s law mostly banning third-party ballot collection also results in a significant race-based disparity in voting opportunities. The problem with that law again lies in facts nearly unique to Arizona—here, the presence of rural Native American communities that lack ready access to mail service. Given that circumstance, the Arizona statute discriminates in just the way Section 2 proscribes. The majority once more comes to a different conclusion only by ignoring the local conditions with which Arizona’s law interacts.

The critical facts for evaluating the ballot-collection rule have to do with mail service. Most Arizonans vote by mail. But many rural Native American voters lack access to mail service, to a degree hard for most of us to fathom. Only 18% of Native voters in rural counties receive home mail delivery, compared to 86% of white voters living in those counties. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 836. And for many or most, there is no nearby post office. Native Americans in rural Arizona “often must travel 45 minutes to 2 hours just to get to a mailbox.” 948 F. 3d, at 1006; see 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 869 (“Ready access to reliable and secure mail service is nonexistent” in some Native American communities). And between a quarter to a half of households in these Native communities do not have a car. See ibid. So getting ballots by mail and sending them back poses a serious challenge for Arizona’s rural Native Americans.[12]

For that reason, an unusually high rate of Native Americans used to “return their early ballots with the assistance of third parties.” Id., at 870.[13] As the District Court found: “[F]or many Native Americans living in rural locations,” voting “is an activity that requires the active assistance of friends and neighbors.” Ibid. So in some Native communities, third-party collection of ballots—mostly by fellow clan members—became “standard practice.” Ibid. And stopping it, as one tribal election official testified, “would be a huge devastation.” Ibid.; see Brief for Navajo Nation as Amicus Curiae 19–20 (explaining that ballot collection is how Navajo voters “have historically handled their mail-in ballots”).

Arizona has always regulated these activities to prevent fraud. State law makes it a felony offense for a ballot collector to fail to deliver a ballot. See Ariz. Rev. Stat. Ann. §16–1005 (Cum. Supp. 2020). It is also a felony for a ballot collector to tamper with a ballot in any manner. See ibid. And as the District Court found, “tamper evident envelopes and a rigorous voter signature verification procedure” protect against any such attempts. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 854. For those reasons and others, no fraud involving ballot collection has ever come to light in the State. Id., at 852.

Still, Arizona enacted—with full knowledge of the likely discriminatory consequences—the near-blanket ballot-collection ban challenged here. The first version of the law—much less stringent than the current one—passed the Arizona Legislature in 2011. But the Department of Justice, in its Section 5 review, expressed skepticism about the statute’s compliance with the Voting Rights Act, and the legislature decided to repeal the law rather than see it blocked (and thereby incur statutory penalties). See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 880; 52 U. S. C. §10303(a)(1)(E) (providing that if a state law fails Section 5 review, the State may not escape the preclearance process for another 10 years). Then, this Court decided Shelby County. With Section 5 gone, the State Legislature felt free to proceed with a new ballot-collection ban, despite the potentially discriminatory effects that the preclearance process had revealed. The enacted law contains limited exceptions for family members and caregivers. But it includes no similar exceptions for clan members or others with Native kinship ties. They and anyone else who picks up a neighbor’s ballot and takes it to a post office, or delivers it to an election site, is punishable as a felon. See Ariz. Rev. Stat. §16–1005(H).

Put all of that together, and Arizona’s ballot-collection ban violates Section 2. The ban interacts with conditions on the ground—most crucially, disparate access to mail service—to create unequal voting opportunities for Native Americans. Recall that only 18% of rural Native Americans in the State have home delivery; that travel times of an hour or more to the nearest post office are common; that many members of the community do not have cars. See supra, at 36. Given those facts, the law prevents many Native Americans from making effective use of one of the principal means of voting in Arizona.[14] What is an inconsequential burden for others is for these citizens a severe hardship. And the State has shown no need for the law to go so far. Arizona, as noted above, already has statutes in place to deter fraudulent collection practices. See supra, at 37. Those laws give every sign of working. Arizona has not offered any evidence of fraud in ballot collection, or even an account of a harm threatening to happen. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 852 (“[T]here has never been a case of voter fraud associated with ballot collection charged in Arizona”). And anyway, Arizona did not have to entirely forego a ballot-collection restriction to comply with Section 2. It could, for example, have added an exception to the statute for Native clan or kinship ties, to accommodate the special, “intensely local” situation of the rural Native American community. Gingles, 478 U. S., at 79. That Arizona did not do so shows, at best, selective indifference to the voting opportunities of its Native American citizens.

The majority’s opinion fails to acknowledge any of these facts. It quotes extensively from the District Court’s finding that the ballot-collection ban does not interfere with the voting opportunities of minority groups generally. See ante, at 31, n. 19. But it never addresses the court’s separate finding that the ban poses a unique burden for Native Americans. See supra, at 36–37. Except in a pair of footnotes responding to this dissent, the term “Native American” appears once (count it, once) in the majority’s five-page discussion of Arizona’s ballot-collection ban. So of course that community’s strikingly limited access to mail service is not addressed.[15] In the majority’s alternate world, the collection ban is just a “usual burden[ ] of voting” for everyone. Ante, at 30. And in that world, “[f]raud is a real risk” of ballot collection—as to every community, in every circumstance—just because the State in litigation asserts that it is. Ante, at 33. The State need not even show that the discriminatory rule it enacted is necessary to prevent the fraud it purports to fear. So the State has no duty to substitute a non-discriminatory rule that would adequately serve its professed goal. Like the rest of today’s opinion, the majority’s treatment of the collection ban thus flouts what Section 2 commands: the eradication of election rules resulting in unequal opportunities for minority voters.

IV

Congress enacted the Voting Rights Act to address a deep fault of our democracy—the historical and continuing attempt to withhold from a race of citizens their fair share of influence on the political process. For a century, African Americans had struggled and sacrificed to wrest their voting rights from a resistant Nation. The statute they and their allies at long last attained made a promise to all Americans. From then on, Congress demanded, the political process would be equally open to every citizen, regardless of race.

One does not hear much in the majority opinion about that promise. One does not hear much about what brought Congress to enact the Voting Rights Act, what Congress hoped for it to achieve, and what obstacles to that vision remain today. One would never guess that the Act is, as the President who signed it wrote, “monumental.” Johnson Papers 841. For all the opinion reveals, the majority might be considering any old piece of legislation—say, the Lanham Act or ERISA.

But then, at least, the majority should treat the Voting Rights Act as if it were ordinary legislation. The Court always says that it must interpret a statute according to its text—that it has no warrant to override congressional choices. But the majority today flouts those choices with abandon. The language of Section 2 is as broad as broad can be. It applies to any policy that “results in” disparate voting opportunities for minority citizens. It prohibits, without any need to show bad motive, even facially neutral laws that make voting harder for members of one race than of another, given their differing life circumstances. That is the expansive statute Congress wrote, and that our prior decisions have recognized. But the majority today lessens the law—cuts Section 2 down to its own preferred size. The majority creates a set of extra-textual exceptions and considerations to sap the Act’s strength, and to save laws like Arizona’s. No matter what Congress wanted, the majority has other ideas.

This Court has no right to remake Section 2. Maybe some think that vote suppression is a relic of history—and so the need for a potent Section 2 has come and gone. Cf. Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 547 (“[T]hings have changed dramatically”). But Congress gets to make that call. Because it has not done so, this Court’s duty is to apply the law as it is written. The law that confronted one of this country’s most enduring wrongs; pledged to give every American, of every race, an equal chance to participate in our democracy; and now stands as the crucial tool to achieve that goal. That law, of all laws, deserves the sweep and power Congress gave it. That law, of all laws, should not be diminished by this Court.

Notes
1  The majority brands this historical account part of an “extended effort at misdirection.” Ante, at 22. I am tempted merely to reply: Enough said about the majority’s outlook on the statute before us. But I will add what should be obvious—that no one can understand the Voting Rights Act without recognizing what led Congress to enact it, and what Congress wanted it to change.
2  Although causation is hard to establish definitively, those post-Shelby County changes appear to have reduced minority participation in the next election cycle. The most comprehensive study available found that in areas freed from Section 5 review, white turnout remained the same, but “minority participation dropped by 2.1 percentage points”—a stark reversal in direction from prior elections. Ang, Do 40-Year-Old Facts Still Matter?, 11 Am. Econ. J.: Applied Economics, No. 3, pp. 1, 35 (2019). The results, said the scholar who crunched the numbers, “provide early evidence that the Shelby ruling may jeopardize decades of voting rights progress.” Id., at 36. The election laws passed in Shelby County’s wake “may have negated many of the gains made under preclearance.” Ibid.
3  A final sentence, not at issue here, specifies that the voting right provided does not entitle minority citizens to proportional representation in electoral offices. See infra, at 19, n. 6.
4  I agree with the majority that “very small differences” among racial groups do not matter. Ante, at 18. Some racial disparities are too small to support a finding of unequal access because they are not statistically significant—that is, because they might have arisen from chance alone. See Matrixx Initiatives, Inc. v. Siracusano, 563 U.S. 27, 39 (2011). The statistical significance test is standard in all legal contexts addressing disparate impact. See Ricci v. DeStefano, 557 U.S. 557, 587 (2009). In addition, there may be some threshold of what is sometimes called “practical significance”—a level of inequality that, even if statistically meaningful, is just too trivial for the legal system to care about. See Federal Judicial Center, Reference Manual on Scientific Evidence 252 (3d ed. 2011) (discussing differences that are not “practically important”).
5  The majority pretends that Houston Lawyers’ Assn. did not ask about the availability of a less discriminatory means of serving the State’s end, see ante, at 23, n. 16—but the inquiry is right there on page 428 (examining “if [the] impairment of a minority group’s voting strength could be remedied without significantly impairing the State’s interest in electing judges on a district-wide basis”). In posing that question, the Court did what Congress wanted, because absent a necessity test, States could too easily get away with offering “non-racial” but pretextual “rationalization[s].” S. Rep., at 37; see supra, at 14. And the Court did what it always does in applying laws barring discriminatory effects—ask whether a challenged policy is necessary to achieve the asserted goal. See infra, at 26. Contrary to the majority’s view, that kind of inquiry would not result in “invalidat[ing] just about any voting rule a State adopts.” Ante, at 24. A plaintiff bears the burden of showing that a less discriminatory law would be “at least as effective in achieving the [State’s] legitimate purpose.” Reno v. American Civil Liberties Union, 521 U.S. 844, 874 (1997). And “cost may be an important factor” in that analysis, so the plaintiff could not (as the majority proposes) say merely that the State can combat fraud by “hiring more investigators and prosecutors.” Burwell v. Hobby Lobby Stores, Inc., 573 U.S. 682, 730 (2014); ante, at 24. Given those features of the alternative-means inquiry, a State that tries both to serve its electoral interests and to give its minority citizens equal electoral access will rarely have anything to fear from a Section 2 suit.
6  Contra the majority, see ante, at 5–6, 22, and n. 14, the House-Senate compromise reached in amending Section 2 has nothing to do with the law relevant here. The majority is hazy about the content of this compromise for a reason: It was about proportional representation. As then-Justice Rehnquist explained, members of the Senate expressed concern that the “results in” language of the House-passed bill would provide not “merely for equal ‘access’ to the political process” but also “for proportional representation” of minority voters. Mississippi Republican Executive Committee v. Brooks, 469 U.S. 1002, 1010 (1984) (dissenting opinion). Senator Dole’s solution was to add text making clear that minority voters had a right to equal voting opportunities, but no right to elect minority candidates “in numbers equal to their proportion in the population.” 52 U. S. C. §10301(b). The Dole Amendment, as Justice Rehnquist noted, ensured that under the “results in” language equal “ ‘access’ only was required.” 469 U. S., at 1010–1011; see 128 Cong. Rec. 14132 (1982) (Sen. Dole explaining that as amended “the focus of the standard is on whether there is equal access to the political process, not on whether members of a particular minority group have achieved proportional election results”). Nothing—literally nothing—suggests that the Senate wanted to water down the equal-access right that everyone agreed the House’s language covered. So the majority is dead wrong to say that I want to “undo” the House-Senate compromise. Ante, at 22. It is the majority that wants to transform that compromise to support a view of Section 2 held in neither the House nor the Senate.
7  In a single sentence, the majority huffs that “nobody disputes” various of these “points of law.” Ante, at 21. Excellent! I only wish the majority would take them to heart, both individually and in combination. For example, the majority says it agrees that Section 2 reaches beyond denials of voting to any “abridgement.” But then, as I’ll later discuss, it insists that Section 2 has an interest only in rules that “block or seriously hinder voting”—which appears to create a “denial or serious abridgement” standard. Ante, at 16; see infra, at 22–23. Or, for example, the majority says it accepts that Section 2 may prohibit facially neutral election rules. But the majority takes every opportunity of casting doubt on those applications. Each facially neutral rule it mentions is one that it “doubt[s]” Congress could have “intended to uproot.” Ante, at 18; see ante, at 6, 18, 21, 25. And it criticizes this dissent for understanding the statute (but how could anyone understand it differently?) as focusing on the racially “disparate impact” of neutral election rules on the opportunity to vote. Ante, at 21. Most fundamentally, the majority refuses to acknowledge how all the “points of law” it professes to agree with work in tandem to signal a statute of significant power and scope.
8  The House Report listed some of those offensive, even though facially neutral and then-prevalent, practices: “inconvenient location and hours of registration, dual registration for county and city elections,” “frequent and unnecessary purgings and burdensome registration requirements, and failure to provide . . . assistance to illiterates.” H. R. Rep., at 14. So too the Senate Report complained of “inconvenient voting and registration hours” and “reregistration requirements and purging of voters.” S. Rep., at 10, n. 22; see supra, at 16.
9  Even setting aside Section 2’s status-quo-disrupting lean, this Court has long rejected—including just last Term—the majority’s claim that the state of the world at the time of a statute’s enactment provides a useful “benchmark[ ]” when applying a broadly written law. Ante, at 17. Such a law will typically come to encompass applications—even “important” ones—that were not “foreseen at the time of enactment.” Bostock v. Clayton County, 590 U. S. ___, ___ (2020) (slip op., at 26). To prevent that from happening—as the majority does today, on the ground that Congress simply must have “intended” it—is “to displace the plain meaning of the law in favor of something lying behind it.” Ibid.; see id., at ___ (slip op., at 30) (When a law is “written in starkly broad terms,” it is “virtually guaranteed that unexpected applications [will] emerge over time”).
10  Because I would affirm the Court of Appeals’ holding that the effects of these policies violate Section 2, I need not pass on that court’s alternative holding that the laws were enacted with discriminatory intent.
11  The majority’s excuse for failing to consider the plaintiffs’ evidence on Arizona’s siting of polling places is that the plaintiffs did not bring a separate claim against those practices. See ante, at 30, n. 18. If that sounds odd, it is. The majority does not contest that the evidence on polling-place siting is relevant to the plaintiffs’ challenge to the out-of-precinct policy. Nor could the majority do so. The siting practices are one of the background conditions against which the out-of-precinct policy operates—exactly the kind of thing that a totality-of-circumstances analysis demands a court take into account. To refuse to think about those practices because the plaintiffs might have brought a freestanding claim against them is to impose an out-of-thin-air pleading requirement that operates to exclude exactly the evidence that most strongly signals a Section 2 violation.
12  Certain Hispanic communities in Arizona confront similar difficulties. For example, in the border town of San Luis, which is 98% Hispanic, “[a]lmost 13,000 residents rely on a post office located across a major highway” for their mail service. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 869. The median income in San Luis is $22,000, so “many people [do] not own[ ] cars”—making it “difficult” to “receiv[e] and send[ ] mail.” Ibid.
13  The majority faults the plaintiffs for failing to provide “concrete” statistical evidence on this point. See ante, at 31. But no evidence of that kind exists: Arizona has never compiled data on third-party ballot collection. And the witness testimony the plaintiffs offered in its stead allowed the District Court to conclude that minority voters, and especially Native Americans, disproportionately needed third-party assistance to vote. See 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 869–870.
14  To make matters worse, in-person voting does not provide a feasible alternative for many rural Native voters. Given the low population density on Arizona’s reservations, the distance to an assigned polling place—like that to a post office—is usually long. Again, many Native citizens do not own cars. And the State’s polling-place siting practices cause some voters to go to the wrong precincts. Respecting the last factor, the District Court found that because Navajo voters “lack standard addresses[,] their precinct assignments” are “based upon guesswork.” Democratic Nat. Committee v. Reagan, 329 F. Supp. 3d 824, 873 (Ariz. 2018). As a result, there is frequent “confusion about the voter’s correct polling place.” Ibid.
15  In one of those footnotes, the majority defends its omission by saying that “no individual [Native American] voter testified that [the collection ban] would make it significantly more difficult for him or her to vote.” Ante, at 34, n. 21. But as stated above, the District Court found, based on the testimony of “lawmakers, elections officials[,] community advocates,” and tribal representatives, that the ban would have that effect for many Native American voters. 329 F. Supp. 3d, at 868; see id., at 870 (“[F]or many Native Americans living in rural locations,” voting “is an activity that requires the active assistance of friends and neighbors”); supra, at 36–37. The idea that the claim here fails because the plaintiffs did not produce less meaningful evidence (a single person’s experience) does not meet the straight-face standard. And the majority’s remaining argument is, if anything, more eccentric. Here, the majority assures us that the Postal Service has a “statutory obligation[ ]” to provide “effective and regular postal services to rural areas.” Ante, at 34, n. 21. But the record shows what the record shows—once again, in the Court of Appeals’ words, that Native Americans in rural Arizona “often must travel 45 minutes to 2 hours just to get to a mailbox.” Democratic Nat. Committee v. Hobbs, 948 F.3d 989, 1006 (CA9 2020). That kind of background circumstance is central to Section 2’s totality-of-circumstances analysis—and here produces a significant racial disparity in the opportunity to vote. The majority’s argument to the contrary is no better than if it condoned a literacy test on the ground that a State had long had a statutory obligation to teach all its citizens to read and write.

4.1.3 Required Readings 4.1.3 Required Readings

4.2 WEEK 11: Statutory Interpretation as Justice (Or, Law as Integrity) - Part I 4.2 WEEK 11: Statutory Interpretation as Justice (Or, Law as Integrity) - Part I

4.2.1 Alabama Association of Realtors et al. v. Dep't Health and Human Services 4.2.1 Alabama Association of Realtors et al. v. Dep't Health and Human Services

Opinion [Link]

SCOTUSblog Page [Link]

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
No. 21A23


ALABAMA ASSOCIATION OF REALTORS, ET AL. v.
DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND
HUMAN SERVICES, ET AL.


ON APPLICATION TO VACATE STAY


[August 26, 2021]


 PER CURIAM.


The Director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has imposed a nationwide moratorium on
evictions of any tenants who live in a county that is experiencing substantial or high levels of COVID–19 transmission and who make certain declarations of financial need.
86 Fed. Reg. 43244 (2021). The Alabama Association of
Realtors (along with other plaintiffs) obtained a judgment
from the U. S. District Court for the District of Columbia
vacating the moratorium on the ground that it is unlawful.
But the District Court stayed its judgment while the Government pursued an appeal. We vacate that stay, rendering the judgment enforceable. The District Court produced
a comprehensive opinion concluding that the statute on
which the CDC relies does not grant it the authority it
claims. The case has been thoroughly briefed before us—
twice. And careful review of that record makes clear that
the applicants are virtually certain to succeed on the merits
of their argument that the CDC has exceeded its authority.
It would be one thing if Congress had specifically authorized the action that the CDC has taken. But that has not
happened. Instead, the CDC has imposed a nationwide
moratorium on evictions in reliance on a decades-old statute that authorizes it to implement measures like fumigation and pest extermination. It strains credulity to believe that this statute grants the CDC the sweeping authority
that it asserts.


I
A
In March 2020, Congress passed the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security Act to alleviate burdens caused
by the burgeoning COVID–19 pandemic. Pub. L. 116–136,
134 Stat. 281. Among other relief programs, the Act imposed a 120-day eviction moratorium for properties that
participated in federal assistance programs or were subject
to federally backed loans. §4024, id., at 492–494.
When the eviction moratorium expired in July, Congress
did not renew it. Concluding that further action was
needed, the CDC decided to do what Congress had not. See
85 Fed. Reg. 55292 (2020). The new, administratively imposed moratorium went further than its statutory predecessor, covering all residential properties nationwide and imposing criminal penalties on violators. See id., at 55293,
55296.
The CDC’s moratorium was originally slated to expire on
December 31, 2020. Id., at 55297. But Congress extended
it for one month as part of the second COVID–19 relief Act.
See Consolidated Appropriations Act, 2021, Pub. L. 116–
260, §502, 134 Stat. 2078–2079. As the new deadline approached, the CDC again took matters into its own hands,
extending its moratorium through March, then again
through June, and ultimately through July. 86 Fed. Reg.
8020, 16731, 34010.
The CDC relied on §361(a) of the Public Health Service
Act for authority to promulgate and extend the eviction
moratorium. See 58 Stat. 703, as amended, 42 U. S. C.
§264(a). That provision states:
“The Surgeon General, with the approval of the [Secretary of Health and Human Services], is authorized to
make and enforce such regulations as in his judgment 
are necessary to prevent the introduction, transmission, or spread of communicable diseases from foreign
countries into the States or possessions, or from one
State or possession into any other State or possession.
For purposes of carrying out and enforcing such regulations, the Surgeon General may provide for such inspection, fumigation, disinfection, sanitation, pest extermination, destruction of animals or articles found to
be so infected or contaminated as to be sources of dangerous infection to human beings, and other measures,
as in his judgment may be necessary.”
See also 42 CFR §70.2 (2020) (delegating this authority to
the CDC). Originally passed in 1944, this provision has
rarely been invoked—and never before to justify an eviction
moratorium. Regulations under this authority have generally been limited to quarantining infected individuals and
prohibiting the import or sale of animals known to transmit
disease. See, e.g., 40 Fed. Reg. 22543 (1975) (banning small
turtles known to be carriers of salmonella).


B


Realtor associations and rental property managers in Alabama and Georgia sued to enjoin the CDC’s moratorium.
The U. S. District Court for the District of Columbia
granted the plaintiffs summary judgment, holding that the
CDC lacked statutory authority to impose the moratorium.
Alabama Assn. of Realtors v. Department of Health and Human Servs., 2021 WL 1779282, *10 (May 5, 2021).
But the court stayed its order pending appeal. It reasoned that even though the Government had not shown a
substantial likelihood of success, it did make a lesser showing of a “serious legal question on the merits,” which the
court said warranted granting a stay when the remaining
stay factors weighed in the Government’s favor. Alabama
Assn. of Realtors v. Department of Health and Human
Servs., 2021 WL 1946376, *4–*5 (May 14, 2021) (citation 
omitted); see also Nken v. Holder, 556 U. S. 418, 434 (2009)
(listing the four traditional stay factors: “(1) whether the
stay applicant has made a strong showing that he is likely
to succeed on the merits; (2) whether the applicant will be
irreparably injured absent a stay; (3) whether issuance of
the stay will substantially injure the other parties interested in the proceeding; and (4) where the public interest
lies” (citation omitted)). The D. C. Circuit agreed, though it
rated the Government’s arguments more highly. Alabama
Assn. of Realtors v. Department of Health and Human
Servs., 2021 WL 2221646 (June 2, 2021).
This Court declined to vacate the stay. Alabama Assn. of
Realtors v. Department of Health and Human Servs., post,
p. ___. JUSTICE KAVANAUGH concurred, explaining that he
agreed with the District Court that the CDC’s moratorium
exceeded its statutory authority. But because the CDC
planned to end the moratorium in only a few weeks, and
because that time would allow for additional and more orderly distribution of congressionally appropriated rentalassistance funds, he concluded that the balance of equities
justified leaving the stay in place. JUSTICE THOMAS,
JUSTICE ALITO, JUSTICE GORSUCH, and JUSTICE BARRETT
noted that they would vacate the stay.
The moratorium expired on July 31, 2021. Three days
later, the CDC reimposed it. See 86 Fed. Reg. 43244. Apart
from slightly narrowing the geographic scope, the new moratorium is indistinguishable from the old.
With the moratorium once again in place, the plaintiffs
returned to the District Court to seek vacatur of its stay.
The District Court agreed with the plaintiffs that the stay
was no longer warranted for two reasons. First, the Government was unlikely to succeed on the merits, given the
four votes to vacate the stay in this Court and JUSTICE
KAVANAUGH’s concurring opinion. 2021 WL 3577367, *6
(Aug. 13, 2021). Second, the equities had shifted in the
plaintiffs’ favor: Vaccine and rental-assistance distribution had improved since the stay was entered, while the harm to
landlords had continued to increase. Ibid., n. 3. But the
court concluded that its hands were tied by the law of the
case, in light of the D. C. Circuit’s earlier decision not to
vacate the stay. Ibid. That denial was followed by one more
stop at the D. C. Circuit, where that court again declined to
lift the stay. 2021 WL 3721431 (Aug. 20, 2021).
Having passed through the lower courts twice, the plaintiffs return as applicants to this Court to again ask us to
vacate the District Court’s stay.


II


The District Court concluded that its stay is no longer
justified under the governing four-factor test. See Nken v.
Holder, supra, at 434. We agree.


A


The applicants not only have a substantial likelihood of
success on the merits—it is difficult to imagine them losing.
The Government contends that the first sentence of §361(a)
gives the CDC broad authority to take whatever measures
it deems necessary to control the spread of COVID–19, including issuing the moratorium. But the second sentence
informs the grant of authority by illustrating the kinds of
measures that could be necessary: inspection, fumigation,
disinfection, sanitation, pest extermination, and destruction of contaminated animals and articles. These measures
directly relate to preventing the interstate spread of disease
by identifying, isolating, and destroying the disease itself.
The CDC’s moratorium, on the other hand, relates to interstate infection far more indirectly: If evictions occur, some
subset of tenants might move from one State to another,
and some subset of that group might do so while infected
with COVID–19. See 86 Fed. Reg. 43248–43249. This
downstream connection between eviction and the interstate spread of disease is markedly different from the direct targeting of disease that characterizes the measures identified
in the statute. Reading both sentences together, rather
than the first in isolation, it is a stretch to maintain that
§361(a) gives the CDC the authority to impose this eviction
moratorium.
Even if the text were ambiguous, the sheer scope of the
CDC’s claimed authority under §361(a) would counsel
against the Government’s interpretation. We expect Congress to speak clearly when authorizing an agency to exercise powers of “vast ‘economic and political significance.’”
Utility Air Regulatory Group v. EPA, 573 U. S. 302, 324
(2014) (quoting FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp.,
529 U. S. 120, 160 (2000)). That is exactly the kind of power
that the CDC claims here. At least 80% of the country, including between 6 and 17 million tenants at risk of eviction,
falls within the moratorium. See Response in Opposition
26, 29. While the parties dispute the financial burden on
landlords, Congress has provided nearly $50 billion in
emergency rental assistance—a reasonable proxy of the
moratorium’s economic impact. See 86 Fed. Reg. 43247.
And the issues at stake are not merely financial. The moratorium intrudes into an area that is the particular domain
of state law: the landlord-tenant relationship. See Lindsey
v. Normet, 405 U. S. 56, 68–69 (1972). “Our precedents require Congress to enact exceedingly clear language if it
wishes to significantly alter the balance between federal
and state power and the power of the Government over private property.” United States Forest Service v. Cowpasture
River Preservation Assn., 590 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2020) (slip
op., at 15–16).
Indeed, the Government’s read of §361(a) would give the
CDC a breathtaking amount of authority. It is hard to see
what measures this interpretation would place outside the
CDC’s reach, and the Government has identified no limit in
§361(a) beyond the requirement that the CDC deem a measure “necessary.” 42 U. S. C. §264(a); 42 CFR §70.2.
Could the CDC, for example, mandate free grocery delivery
to the homes of the sick or vulnerable? Require manufacturers to provide free computers to enable people to work
from home? Order telecommunications companies to provide free high-speed Internet service to facilitate remote
work?
This claim of expansive authority under §361(a) is unprecedented. Since that provision’s enactment in 1944, no
regulation premised on it has even begun to approach the
size or scope of the eviction moratorium. And it is further
amplified by the CDC’s decision to impose criminal penalties of up to a $250,000 fine and one year in jail on those
who violate the moratorium. See 86 Fed. Reg. 43252; 42
CFR §70.18(a). Section 361(a) is a wafer-thin reed on which
to rest such sweeping power.


B


The equities do not justify depriving the applicants of the
District Court’s judgment in their favor. The moratorium
has put the applicants, along with millions of landlords
across the country, at risk of irreparable harm by depriving
them of rent payments with no guarantee of eventual recovery. Despite the CDC’s determination that landlords
should bear a significant financial cost of the pandemic,
many landlords have modest means. And preventing them
from evicting tenants who breach their leases intrudes on
one of the most fundamental elements of property ownership—the right to exclude. See Loretto v. Teleprompter
Manhattan CATV Corp., 458 U. S. 419, 435 (1982).
As harm to the applicants has increased, the Government’s interests have decreased. Since the District Court
entered its stay, the Government has had three additional
months to distribute rental-assistance funds to help ease
the transition away from the moratorium. Whatever interest the Government had in maintaining the moratorium’s original end date to ensure the orderly administration of
those programs has since diminished. And Congress was
on notice that a further extension would almost surely require new legislation, yet it failed to act in the several
weeks leading up to the moratorium’s expiration.
It is indisputable that the public has a strong interest in
combating the spread of the COVID–19 Delta variant. But
our system does not permit agencies to act unlawfully even
in pursuit of desirable ends. Cf. Youngstown Sheet & Tube
Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U. S. 579, 582, 585–586 (1952) (concluding that even the Government’s belief that its action “was
necessary to avert a national catastrophe” could not overcome a lack of congressional authorization). It is up to Congress, not the CDC, to decide whether the public interest
merits further action here.


* * *


If a federally imposed eviction moratorium is to continue,
Congress must specifically authorize it. The application to
vacate stay presented to THE CHIEF JUSTICE and by him referred to the Court is granted.
 So ordered. 


_________________
_________________

BREYER, J., dissenting
SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
No. 21A23
ALABAMA ASSOCIATION OF REALTORS, ET AL. v.
DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND
HUMAN SERVICES, ET AL.
ON APPLICATION TO VACATE STAY
[August 26, 2021]


 JUSTICE BREYER, with whom JUSTICE SOTOMAYOR and
JUSTICE KAGAN join, dissenting.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC)
has issued an order that, in light of the rise of the COVID–
19 Delta variant, temporarily prohibits certain evictions in
high-transmission counties through October 3. Today, this
Court, as an emergency matter, without full briefing or argument, blocks that order by vacating a lower court’s stay.
I think the Court is wrong to do so, and I dissent.
“We may not vacate a stay entered by a [lower] court . . .
unless that court clearly and ‘demonstrably’ erred in its application of ‘accepted standards.’” Planned Parenthood of
Greater Tex. Surgical Health Servs. v. Abbott, 571 U. S.
1061 (2013) (Scalia, J., concurring in denial of application
to vacate stay) (quoting Western Airlines, Inc. v. Teamsters,
480 U. S. 1301, 1305 (1987) (O’Connor, J., in chambers)).
Those accepted factors are “(1) whether the stay applicant
has made a strong showing that he is likely to succeed on
the merits; (2) whether the applicant will be irreparably injured absent a stay; (3) whether issuance of the stay will
substantially injure the other parties interested in the proceeding; and (4) where the public interest lies.” Nken v.
Holder, 556 U. S. 418, 426 (2009) (internal quotation marks
omitted). In my view, the courts below did not clearly err
for three reasons. 

First, it is far from “demonstrably” clear that the CDC
lacks the power to issue its modified moratorium order. The
CDC’s current order is substantially more tailored than its
prior eviction moratorium, which automatically applied nationwide. Justified by the Delta-variant surge, the modified
order targets only those regions currently experiencing skyrocketing rates. 86 Fed. Reg. 43244, 43245, 43250 (2021).
If a covered county “no longer experiences substantial or
high levels of community transmission,” the order “will no
longer apply” there. Id., at 43250. To illustrate the difference, when we denied applicants’ last motion, fewer than
20% of counties would have been covered under the modified moratorium order’s criteria. See CDC, COVID–19
State Profile Report 476 (June 25, 2021). Today, however,
that figure is over 90%. See infra, at 7.
To be protected from eviction, a tenant must reside in a
covered area and attest that he or she:
(1) has “used best efforts to obtain all available governmental assistance for rent or housing”;
(2) satisfies certain income requirements;
(3) is unable to pay rent “due to substantial loss of
household income, loss of compensable hours of
work or wages, a lay-off, or extraordinary out-of-pocket
medical expenses”;
(4) continues to “us[e] best efforts to make timely partial rent payments that are as close to the full rent payment as . . . permit[ted]”; and
(5) has “no other available housing options.” Id., at
43245.
Unlike under New York’s moratorium, see Chrysafis v.
Marks, post, at 1, landlords remain free to “challeng[e]” in
court “the truthfulness of a tenant’s . . . declaration” that
he or she qualifies for the order’s protection. 86 Fed. Reg. 
43251.
The CDC issued this modified moratorium order (like its
prior moratorium order) pursuant to its powers under
§361(a) of the Public Health Service Act. That provision
“authorize[s]” the CDC:
“[T]o make and enforce such regulations as in [its] judgment are necessary to prevent the introduction, transmission, or spread of communicable diseases [interstate]. For purposes of carrying out and enforcing such
regulations, the Surgeon General may provide for such
inspection, fumigation, disinfection, sanitation, pest
extermination, destruction of animals or articles found
to be so infected or contaminated as to be sources of
dangerous infection to human beings, and other
measures, as in his judgment may be necessary.”
42 U. S. C. §264(a).
The statute’s first sentence grants the CDC authority to
design measures that, in the agency’s judgment, are essential to contain disease outbreaks. The provision’s plain
meaning includes eviction moratoria necessary to stop the
spread of diseases like COVID–19. When Congress enacted
§361(a), public health agencies intervened in the housing
market by regulation, including eviction moratoria, to contain infection by preventing the movement of people. See,
e.g., 5,589 New Cases in One Day Break Influenza Record,
N. Y. Times, Jan. 29, 1920, section 1, pp. 1–2, col. 1 (“‘[T]he
Health Department . . . instruct[s] all landlords that no person suffering from [influenza and pneumonia] can be removed under any condition whatever without the sanction
of the Health Department . . . ’”). If Congress had meant to
exclude these types of measures from its broad grant of authority, it likely would have said so.
Section 361(a)’s second sentence is naturally read to expand the agency’s powers by providing congressional authorization to act on personal property when necessary. See 
FTC v. American Tobacco Co., 264 U. S. 298, 305–306
(1924). It could also be read to provide emphasis regarding
particular enforcement measures. See Ali v. Federal Bureau of Prisons, 552 U. S. 214, 226 (2008).
Applicants urge, and today’s per curiam agrees, that the
second sentence should instead be read to cabin the CDC’s
authority. Not only does that reading lack a clear statutory
basis but the second sentence goes on to empower the CDC
to take “other measures, as in [its] judgment may be necessary.” 42 U. S. C. §264(a). Furthermore, reading the provision’s second sentence to narrow its first would undermine Congress’ purpose. As a key drafter explained, “[t]he
second sentence of subsection (a)” was written not to limit
the broad authority contained in the first sentence, but to
“expressly authorize . . . inspections and . . . other steps necessary in the enforcement of quarantine.” Hearings on
H. R. 3379 before the Subcommittee of the Committee on
Interstate and Foreign Commerce, 78th Cong., 2d Sess.,
139 (1944).
The per curiam also says that Congress must speak more
clearly to authorize the CDC to address public health crises
via eviction moratoria. But it is undisputed that the statute
permits the CDC to adopt significant measures such as
quarantines, which arguably impose greater restrictions on
individuals’ rights and state police powers than do limits on
evictions. Indeed, the current Congress did not bristle at
the Government’s reading of the statute. In 2020, Congress
extended the CDC’s moratorium “issued . . . under section
361 of the Public Health Service Act.” Consolidated Appropriations Act, 2021, Pub. L. 116–260, §502, 134 Stat. 2078–
2079.
In any event, lower courts have split on this question.
Compare Alabama Assn. of Realtors v. Department of
Health and Human Servs., 2021 WL 2221646, *2 (CADC,
June 2, 2021), with Tiger Lily, LLC v. United States Dept.
of Housing and Urban Development, 5 F. 4th 666, 669–670 
(CA6 2021). Given the split among the Circuits, it is at least
hard to say that the Government’s reading of the statute is
“demonstrably wrong.” See Coleman v. Paccar Inc., 424
U. S. 1301, 1304 (1976) (Rehnquist, J., in chambers). At
minimum, there are arguments on both sides.
 Certainly this Court did not resolve the question by denying applicants’ last emergency motion, whatever one Justice might have said in a concurrence. The scope of that
challenged moratorium, the balance of the equities, and the
public interest were all different. As is typical in this
Court’s emergency orders denying extraordinary relief, we
said almost nothing about our reasons for declining to act.
Second, the balance of equities strongly favors leaving
the stay in place. Applicants say they have lost “thousands
of dollars” in rental income. See Application 32. That injury is lessened by the moratorium order’s directive that
tenants have an obligation to make “as close to the full rent
payment” as possible. 86 Fed. Reg. 43245. And to compensate for the shortfall, Congress has appropriated more than
$46.5 billion to help pay rent and rental arrears. See §501,
134 Stat. 2070–2078 (appropriating $25 billion); American
Rescue Plan Act, 2021, Pub. L. 117–2, §3201(a)(1), 135 Stat.
54 (appropriating $21.5 billion more). It may, as applicants
say, take time to get that money—and that is an injury.
But compare that injury to the irreparable harm from vacating the stay. COVID–19 transmission rates have spiked
in recent weeks, reaching levels that the CDC puts as high
as last winter: 150,000 new cases per day. 

To date, the CDC estimates that 38,150,911 Americans
have been sickened. Ibid. 629,139 have died. Ibid. This
week, the CDC calculates average new daily hospital admissions at 12,209. See CDC, New Admissions of Patients
with Confirmed COVID–19, https://covid.cdc.gov/coviddata-tracker/#new-hospital-admissions. The number of
patients hospitalized with COVID–19 is up 13.3% from last
week. See CDC, Prevalent Hospitalization of Patients With
Confirmed COVID–19, https://covid.cdc.gov/covid-datatracker/#hospitalizations.
Look back at the order’s criteria for temporary eviction
relief. The CDC targets only those people who have nowhere else to live, in areas with dangerous levels of community transmission. These people may end up with relatives,
in shelters, or seeking beds in other congregant facilities
where the doubly contagious Delta variant threatens to
spread quickly. See CDC, Delta Variant: What We Know
About the Science, https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-
ncov/variants/delta-variant.html (Delta variant is “more
than 2x as contagious as previous variants” and may “cause more severe illness than previous strains in unvaccinated
persons”). Absent the current stay, the CDC projects a
strong “likelihood of mass evictions nationwide” with
public-health consequences that would be “difficult to reverse.” 86 Fed. Reg. 43247, 43252.
Third, the public interest is not favored by the spread of
disease or a court’s second-guessing of the CDC’s judgment.
The CDC has determined that “[a] surge in evictions could
lead to the immediate and significant movement of large
numbers of persons from lower density to higher density
housing. . . when the highly transmissible Delta variant is
driving COVID–19 cases at an unprecedented rate.” Id., at
43248. The CDC cites models showing up to a 30% increased risk of contracting COVID–19 for some evicted people and those who share housing with them after displacement. Ibid. The CDC invokes studies finding nationally
over 433,000 cases and over 10,000 deaths may be traced to
the lifting of state eviction moratoria. Ibid.
The public interest strongly favors respecting the CDC’s
judgment at this moment, when over 90% of counties are
experiencing high transmission rates. See CDC, COVD–19
Integrated County View, https://covid.cdc.gov/covid-datatracker/#county-view. That figure is the highest it has been
since at least last winter. See CDC, COVID–19 State Profile Report 372 (Aug. 20, 2021). It was in the single digits
when we considered the CDC’s previous moratorium order
and denied applicants’ earlier motion. See CDC, COVID–
19 State Profile Report 476 (June 25, 2021).
On applicants’ last trip to this Court, they argued that
the “downward trend in COVID–19 cases and the effectiveness of vaccines” left “no . . . public-health rationale for the
[CDC’s then-operative eviction] moratorium.” Application
in No. 20A169, p. 4. These predictions have proved tragically untrue. Today they show just how little we may presume to know about the course of this pandemic. 
Applicants raise contested legal questions about an important federal statute on which the lower courts are split
and on which this Court has never actually spoken. These
questions call for considered decisionmaking, informed by
full briefing and argument. Their answers impact the
health of millions. We should not set aside the CDC’s eviction moratorium in this summary proceeding. The criteria
for granting the emergency application are not met. I respectfully dissent. 

4.2.3 CDC Eviction Moratorium and amendments 4.2.3 CDC Eviction Moratorium and amendments

4.2.4 Required Readings 4.2.4 Required Readings

4.3 WEEK 12: Statutory Interpretation as Justice (Or, Law as Integrity) - Part II 4.3 WEEK 12: Statutory Interpretation as Justice (Or, Law as Integrity) - Part II

4.3.1 In the Matter of the Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Execution Protocol Cases, No. 20-5329 4.3.1 In the Matter of the Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Execution Protocol Cases, No. 20-5329

Opinion [Link]

United States Court of Appeals
FOR THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA CIRCUIT
Argued November 16, 2020 Decided November 18, 2020
No. 20-5329
IN RE: IN THE MATTER OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF PRISONS'
EXECUTION PROTOCOL CASES,
JAMES H. ROANE, JR., ET AL.,
APPELLANTS
v.
WILLIAM P. BARR, ATTORNEY GENERAL, ET AL.,
APPELLEES
Appeal from the United States District Court
for the District of Columbia
(No. 1:19-mc-00145)


Alexander C. Drylewski argued the cause for appellants.
With him on the briefs were Jonathan L. Marcus, Shawn
Nolan, Jonathan C. Aminoff, Paul F. Enzinna, Ginger D.
Anders, Jonathan S. Meltzer, Brendan Gants, Amy Lentz,
Matthew Lawry, Gerald W. King, Jr., Jeffrey Lyn Ertel, and
Evan Miller.
Melissa N. Patterson, Attorney, U.S. Department of
Justice, argued the cause for the appellees. With her on the
brief were Jeffrey Bossert Clark, Acting Assistant Attorney 

General, Sopan Joshi, Senior Counsel to the Assistant Attorney
General, and Amanda L. Mundell, Attorney.
Before: MILLETT, PILLARD and RAO, Circuit Judges.
Opinion for the Court filed PER CURIAM.
Opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part by
Circuit Judge PILLARD.
Opinion concurring in part, concurring in the judgment,
and dissenting in part filed by Circuit Judge RAO.


PER CURIAM: In July 2019, eight years after federal
executions were put on hold due to the government’s inability
to acquire one of the drugs for its then-existing lethal injection
protocol, the Department of Justice announced a revised
protocol for execution by lethal injection using a single drug,
pentobarbital. Plaintiffs, thirteen federal death row inmates,
promptly raised statutory and constitutional challenges to the
government’s revised protocol. In November 2019, the district
court preliminarily enjoined the four then-scheduled
executions while it (and, in turn, we) considered a pair of
baseline legal challenges to the government’s lethal injection
protocol. When we held that the 2019 Protocol is exempt from
notice and comment requirements under the Administrative
Procedure Act (APA) and that the Federal Death Penalty Act
(Death Penalty Act) does not require the federal government to
follow execution procedures set forth in state execution
protocols that are less formal than state statutes and regulations,
we vacated those injunctions and remanded for the district
court to consider the balance of Plaintiffs’ challenges. See In
re Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Execution Protocol Cases (In re
FBOP), 955 F.3d 106 (D.C. Cir. 2020). 

During the pendency of the litigation on those remaining
claims, the government scheduled executions to take place
within days or weeks of one another through the summer and
fall. At the behest of Plaintiffs with execution dates and
unresolved challenges, the district court issued a series of
injunctions barring the federal government from executing
inmates whose pending claims it held were likely to succeed.
Each of those injunctions was vacated by either this court or
the Supreme Court, and the government has since executed
seven inmates, six of whom were Plaintiffs in this case at the
time of their execution. In September, the district court
resolved the Plaintiffs’ remaining claims. On November 3,
2020, the district court denied the Plaintiffs’ motion to alter or
amend the judgment under Rule 59(e).
The Plaintiffs then sought expedited review in this court of
three of the district court’s rulings, and two Plaintiffs with
upcoming execution dates moved for stays of execution
pending appeal. We affirm the district court’s grant of
summary judgment to the government based on Plaintiffs’ new
challenges to the Death Penalty Act, but we reverse its
dismissal of the Plaintiffs’ Eighth Amendment challenge for
failure to state a claim. We also hold that the district court
should have ordered the 2019 Protocol to be set aside to the
extent that it permits the use of unprescribed pentobarbital in a
manner that violates the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act
(FDCA). But we affirm the district court’s denial of a
permanent injunction to remedy the FDCA violation.


I.


A.


In 1988, Congress reinstated the federal death penalty
without specifying how executions were to be implemented.
Five years later, in 1993, the Attorney General issued 
regulations to fill that gap. Those regulations provide that the
“method of execution” for a sentence of death is to be
“intravenous injection of a lethal substance or substances in a
quantity sufficient to cause death.” 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a)(4). The
regulations include no details regarding the specific substances
to be used or how those substances are to be chosen or
administered. In 1994, Congress enacted the Death Penalty
Act, which states that federal executions are to be implemented
“in the manner prescribed by the law of the State in which the
sentence is imposed.” 18 U.S.C. § 3596(a). The Death Penalty
Act and the Attorney General’s regulations remain the federal
law governing executions by the United States. See Manner of
Federal Executions, 854 Fed. Reg. 47,324, 47,325-26 (2020).
Between 2001 and 2003, the federal government carried
out its first three executions since the death penalty was
reinstated. See In re Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Execution
Protocol Cases (In re FBOP), 955 F.3d 106, 110 (D.C. Cir.
2020). The method of execution for each was lethal injection
using a combination of three substances—sodium thiopental,
pancuronium bromide, and potassium chloride. Id. In 2005,
three death row inmates filed suit in the District Court for the
District of Columbia alleging they were to be executed under a
protocol that violated the Constitution and the APA. See
Complaint at 30-36, Roane v. Gonzales, 05-cv-2337 (D.D.C.
Dec. 6, 2005); see also Amended Complaint at 28-32, Roane,
05-cv-2337 (D.D.C. July 10, 2006). The court granted motions
by the three original Plaintiffs and several Plaintiffs who
intervened for preliminary injunctions barring their executions.
See, e.g., Order at 1, Roane, 05-cv-2337 (D.D.C. June 30,
2006); Minute Order, Roane, 05-cv-2337 (D.D.C. Feb. 14,
2007); Order at 1, Roane, 05-cv-2337 (D.D.C. Feb. 21, 2007).
During the litigation, the government produced a 50-page
protocol, first adopted in 2004, detailing the procedures for
carrying out executions, including admitting witnesses to the 
execution, providing for the prisoner’s final meal, and
permitting statements, among many other things. In re FBOP,
955 F.3d at 110. In 2008, the government produced an
addendum to the 2004 Protocol specifying that the method of
execution would be by lethal injection using the same threedrug protocol the government used in the executions between
2001 and 2003. See id. That same year, the Supreme Court
rejected an Eighth Amendment challenge to Kentucky’s use of
the same three substances for execution by lethal injection. See
Baze v. Rees, 553 U.S. 35, 53-54 (2008). In 2011, however,
the government announced it was unable to procure sodium
thiopental, one of the drugs required to carry out an execution
under its existing protocol. At that point, at least two cases
involving method-of-execution challenges were pending in the
district court and two more were filed shortly thereafter. See
Roane, 05-cv-2337; Robinson v. Mukasey, 05-cv-2145
(D.D.C.); Bourgeois v. Dep’t of Justice, 12-cv-782 (D.D.C.);
Fulks v. Dep’t of Justice, 13-cv-938 (D.D.C.). All four were
put on hold pending the government’s issuance of a revised
protocol.
On July 25, 2019, eight years after announcing the
unavailability of sodium thiopental, the Department of Justice
announced its revised protocol, referred to in this litigation as
the 2019 Protocol. A two-page addendum to the 2019 Protocol
makes pentobarbital, a barbiturate, the sole drug to be used in
federal executions. See In re FBOP, 955 F.3d at 110. On the
same day that it announced the 2019 Protocol, the government
also announced scheduled execution dates in December 2019
and January 2020 for five inmates on death row.
In response to the government’s notification of its revised
protocol, the district court scheduled a status conference in the
four pending cases for August 15 of last year and consolidated
the cases five days later. See Minute Order, Roane, 05-cv-2337 
(D.D.C. Aug. 5, 2019). Because the execution date of one of
the Plaintiffs before the court, Alfred Bourgeois, had been
scheduled for January 13, 2020, the district court asked the
government at the scheduling conference if it was willing to
stay Bourgeois’s execution pending the resolution of his case.
See Status Hr’g Tr. 6, supra. The government stated that it did
not intend to stay the execution date, so the district court
proceeded to set an expedited schedule, requiring an amended
complaint by the end of March. Id. at 19; see Fed. R. Civ. P.
30(b)(6). On March 18, the parties jointly requested that the
court extend by 60 days the deadline for Plaintiffs’ amended
complaint because of the disruptions the COVID-19 outbreak
had caused in Plaintiffs’ efforts to complete pre-amendment
discovery. The court granted that request the next day and set
a briefing schedule for dispositive motions extending from July
to December. See Minute Order, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145
(D.D.C. Mar. 18, 2020).
In the meantime, Plaintiffs with execution dates in
December and January sought to enjoin their executions until
their pending claims could be resolved. Three of the inmates
with scheduled execution dates—Daniel Lee, Wesley Purkey,
and Dustin Honken—had intervened in the master case in the
months after the protocol was announced. Those three
Plaintiffs and Bourgeois all moved for preliminary injunctions,
which the district court granted in November 2019. See
Memorandum Opinion, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C.
Nov. 20, 2019), ECF No. 50. The court found that Plaintiffs
had shown a likelihood of success on their claim that the 2019
Protocol exceeded the government’s statutory authority under
the Death Penalty Act but it did not reach any of the Plaintiffs’
other claims. Id. at 13, 15. Both this court and the Supreme
Court denied the government’s motion to stay the district
court’s preliminary injunction. See Order, In re FBOP, No. 19-
5322 (D.C. Cir. Dec. 2, 2019); Barr v. Roane, 140 S. Ct. 353 
(2019) (mem.). On April 6, 2020, in a divided opinion, this
court vacated the district court’s injunction and reversed its
Death Penalty Act ruling on the merits. See In re FBOP, 955
F.3d 106. We denied Plaintiffs’ petition for rehearing en banc
on May 15, and the Supreme Court denied their petition for
writ of certiorari on June 29. See Bourgeois v. Barr, No.
19A1050, 2020 WL 3492763 (U.S. June 29, 2020) (mem.).
On June 15, with the preliminary injunction on the Death
Penalty Act claim vacated, but prior to briefing on the merits
of Plaintiffs’ other claims, the government set new execution
dates in July and August for four of the Plaintiffs in this case—
Lee, Purkey, Honken, and Keith Nelson. Four days later, those
same Plaintiffs moved for a preliminary injunction. See
Plaintiffs’ Motion for a Preliminary Injunction, In re FBOP,
No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. June 19, 2020), ECF No. 102. On July
13, the day the first of these four Plaintiffs, Lee, was scheduled
to be executed, the district court preliminary enjoined the
executions, concluding that Plaintiffs were likely to succeed on
the merits of their Eighth Amendment challenge to the 2019
Protocol. See Memorandum and Opinion, In re FBOP, No. 19-
mc-145, 2020 WL 3960928 (D.D.C. July 13, 2020). Later that
day, this court denied the government’s motion for a stay of the
injunction, concluding it had not demonstrated a likelihood of
success on its claim that the district court abused its discretion.
See Order, No. 20-5199 (D.C. Cir. July 13, 2020). We ordered
that the appeal be expedited and set a briefing schedule with a
final deadline of July 24. In the early morning hours of July
14, however, the Supreme Court vacated the district court’s
preliminary injunction, holding that the Plaintiffs had failed to
establish a likelihood of success on the merits of their Eighth
Amendment claim. Barr v. Lee, 140 S. Ct. 2590 (2020) (per
curiam). The government executed Lee that same day. 
The second of the four Plaintiffs with a scheduled
execution date, Purkey, was scheduled to be executed the next
day, July 15, and the third of the four Plaintiffs, Honken, was
scheduled to be executed on July 17. Plaintiffs thus requested
on July 15 that the district court issue a preliminary injunction
on the remaining grounds they had asserted in their June 19
motion. See Plaintiffs’ Emergency Notice Requesting Ruling
on Pending Motion, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. July
15, 2020), ECF No. 144. On July 15, prior to Purkey’s
execution, the district court issued another preliminary
injunction, finding that Plaintiffs were likely to succeed on the
merits of their claim that the 2019 Protocol violates the FDCA.
See Order, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. July 15, 2020),
ECF Nos. 145, 146. Late on July 15, this court denied the
government’s motion for a stay pending appeal, holding that
the government had not demonstrated a likelihood of success
on the merits of its claim that the 2019 Protocol comports with
the FDCA. See Order, In re FBOP, No. 20-5210 (D.C. Cir.
July 15, 2020). In the early morning hours of July 16, however,
the Supreme Court vacated the district court’s injunction
without addressing the merits of the FDCA claim or this court’s
order. See Barr v. Purkey, No. 20A10, 2020 WL 4006821
(U.S. July 16, 2020) (mem.). Purkey was executed later that
day. Honken was executed on July 17, after this court denied
his motion for a stay of execution pending appeal of the district
court’s denial of a preliminary injunction on several other
claims. See Order, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. July
16, 2020), ECF No. 166; In re FBOP, No. 5206 (D.C. Cir. July
17, 2020).
Alongside the litigation over the stays of the executions
that summer, proceedings on the merits continued. In
accordance with the district court’s briefing schedule, the
Plaintiffs filed an amended complaint on June 1, and the
government filed its dispositive motions on July 31. But 
Nelson—then the only Plaintiff left with a scheduled execution
date (August 28)—filed an emergency motion to expedite a
trial on the Eighth Amendment claim (on July 31) and for
summary judgment on the FDCA claim (on August 4). The
district court then changed course from its prior briefing
schedule, which did not require Plaintiffs to file any opposition
and cross motions until the end of September, and instead
required that by August 10 Plaintiffs respond to the
government’s dispositive motions and the government respond
to Nelson’s emergency motion for summary judgment on the
FDCA claim. On August 15, the district court granted the
government’s motion to dismiss the Eighth Amendment claim
in light of the Supreme Court’s July 15 decision, Barr v. Lee,
vacating the preliminary injunction the district court had earlier
issued on the Eighth Amendment claim. Order, In re FBOP,
No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Aug. 15, 2020), ECF No. 193.
On August 25, this court denied Nelson’s motion for a stay
of execution pending appeal of the district court’s dismissal,
concluding that the record before the court contained no
findings of fact that could distinguish Nelson’s request for
equitable relief from the request the Supreme Court rejected in
Lee. See Order, In re FBOP, No. 20-5252 (D.C. Cir. Aug. 25,
2020). On August 27, a day before Nelson’s execution, the
district court granted summary judgment to Nelson on the
FDCA claim, enjoining the government from executing him.
See Memorandum Opinion, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145
(D.D.C. Aug. 27, 2020), ECF No. 213. Later that same day
this court granted the government’s motion to vacate the
district court’s injunction, noting the court failed to include
findings that irreparable injury would result from the FDCA
violation. See Order, In re FBOP, No. 20-5260 (D.C. Cir. Aug.
27, 2020). On August 28, the district court denied Nelson’s
motion to clarify or amend its prior order. The government
executed Nelson later that same day. 
The district court’s August decision granting judgment on
the FDCA claim was limited to Nelson; on September 9 the
remaining Plaintiffs moved for summary judgment on the same
ground. Included among the Plaintiffs were Christopher
Andrew Vialva and William LeCroy, who the government had
announced on July 31 would be executed on September 22 and
24, respectively. In their September 9 motion, the Plaintiffs
argued that violations of the FDCA would subject them to
irreparable harm, noting that the rush of litigation before
Nelson’s execution had prevented him from making the same
showing. See Plaintiffs’ Motion for Partial Summary
Judgment and Permanent Injunction, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc145 (D.D.C. Sept. 9, 2020), ECF No. 236. The district court
held an evidentiary hearing on September 18 and 19 on the
FDCA claim.
On September 20, the district court issued an order
entering final judgment on the remaining claims in the case.
See Memorandum Opinion, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145
(D.D.C. Sept. 20, 2020), ECF No. 261. The court granted
summary judgment to the Plaintiffs on the FDCA claim, as it
had to Nelson in August, but denied a preliminary injunction,
holding that Plaintiffs failed to establish irreparable harm. The
court ruled in favor of the government on all other claims,
including a claim that the 2019 Protocol violated the Death
Penalty Act. It also vacated preliminary injunctions that it had
issued between 2005 and 2007, during challenges to the prior
three-drug protocol, that continued to bar the executions of
several Plaintiffs in this case. LeCroy was executed on
September 22 and Vialva was executed on September 24.
Four days later, on September 30, the government set
November 19 as the execution date for Orlando Hall, one of the
Plaintiffs whose execution the court had previously enjoined.
On October 16, it set December 10 as the execution date for 
Brandon Bernard. On November 4, the day after the district
court denied their motions to alter or amend its judgment on
their Eighth Amendment, FDCA, and Death Penalty Act
claims, plaintiffs filed this appeal. They moved to expedite
briefing and oral argument two days later, noting the upcoming
executions of Hall and Bernard. On November 10, Hall and
Bernard filed an emergency motion for stay of execution
pending appeal. We expedited briefing on both the merits
appeal and the stay motion and heard oral argument on
November 16.


B.


The Bureau of Prisons developed its 2019 Protocol
through review of state practices and in consultation with
medical professionals. See Administrative Record at PDF 6, In
re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Nov. 13, 2019), ECF No.
39-1. Like the federal government, at least 30 states previously
had lethal injection protocols in place that used three drugs:
sodium thiopental, “a fast-acting barbiturate sedative that
induces a deep, comalike unconsciousness when given in the
amounts used for lethal injection,” pancuronium bromide, “a
paralytic agent that inhibits all muscular-skeletal movements
and, by paralyzing the diaphragm, stops respiration,” and
potassium chloride, which “interferes with the electrical signals
that stimulate the contractions of the heart, inducing cardiac
arrest.” See Baze v. Rees, 553 U.S. 35, 44 (2008). When
sodium thiopental became unavailable, states began using
pentobarbital, another barbiturate, instead. See Glossip v.
Gross, 576 U.S. 863, 871 (2015). Some states use
pentobarbital as part of a three-drug protocol, but others use it
as a single-drug protocol. Administrative Record at PDF 6.
The Bureau of Prisons also decided to use pentobarbital
after locating “a viable source” for the drug. Id. at PDF 9. It 
elected a single-drug protocol because of the “complications
inherent in obtaining multiple drugs,” the superior
“efficien[cy]” of acquiring and storing a single drug, and the
“reduce[d] . . . risk of errors” in administration of a single drug.
Id. at PDF 7. The protocol provides for three injections—two
containing 2.5 grams of pentobarbital in 50 milliliters of diluent
and the third containing 60 milliliters of a saline flush. Id. at
PDF 1075. According to the Bureau, two medical experts
whom it asked to review its protocol concluded that it “would
produce a humane death.” Id. at PDF 8. The Supreme Court
rejected an as-applied challenge to Missouri’s one-drug
pentobarbital protocol last year. See Bucklew v. Precythe, 139
S. Ct. 1112 (2019). The Court held that the inmate at issue,
who had a medical condition he argued would prevent the drug
from working properly, failed to present a viable alternative to
the protocol, as required by its precedent. Id. at 1129-33; see
also id. at 1135-36 (Kavanaugh, J., concurring).
Plaintiffs in this case have presented evidence indicating
that use of pentobarbital in executions causes inmates to
experience “flash pulmonary edema,” a medical condition in
which fluid rapidly accumulates in the lungs, causing
respiratory distress and “sensations of drowning and
asphyxiation,” which in turn induce “extreme pain, terror and
panic” comparable to death by drowning. J.A. 346. Medical
experts cited by the Plaintiffs have concluded based on autopsy
reports that it is very likely inmates will experience such pain
and distress before they are rendered insensate. Plaintiffs also
point to many autopsies revealing froth or foam trapped in the
airways, which they say demonstrates that edema began while
the deceased was still attempting to draw breath. J.A. 346-48.
And one of the Plaintiffs’ experts found it is a “virtual medical
certainty that most, if not all, prisoners executed with a single
dose of pentobarbital . . . experienced ‘immediate, flash
pulmonary edema.’” J.A. 347. 
Plaintiffs have bolstered their claims with witness reports
from executions,J.A. 348, including those of Lee, Honken, and
Purkey, J.A. 122, as well as the results of an autopsy of Purkey,
concluding that all suggest those Plaintiffs experienced
symptoms of pulmonary edema. The government has not
contested that most individuals who are executed through the
lethal injection of pentobarbital experience flash pulmonary
edema but they have submitted competing expert testimony
suggesting that the condition occurs only after the inmate has
been rendered insensate. One of its experts has stated that
“[t]here is no way to determine based on autopsy findings how
quickly the pulmonary edema occurred.” J.A. 121.
Allegations regarding flash pulmonary edema were not, we
note, before the Supreme Court in Bucklew.


II.

A.


The Plaintiffs challenge the district court’s dismissal
under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 12(b)(6) of their Eighth
Amendment claims. Order at 5 n.1, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc145-TSC (D.D.C. Aug. 15, 2020), ECF No. 193; Order at 14–
15, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C. Sept. 20, 2020),
ECF No. 261. To survive a motion to dismiss under Rule
12(b)(6), the complaint must allege “sufficient factual matter,
accepted as true, to ‘state a claim to relief that is plausible on
its face.’” Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 678 (2009) (quoting
Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 570 (2007)). That
standard is met if the complaint’s factual allegations support a
“reasonable inference” that the defendant is liable for the
challenged conduct. Id. In evaluating the complaint, the court
must take as true all plausible factual allegations and
reasonable inferences drawn from them. Banneker Ventures,
LLC v. Graham, 798 F.3d 1119, 1129 (D.C. Cir. 2015).

The Eighth Amendment sets a “high bar” for challenges to
the government’s mode of implementing the death penalty.
Barr v. Lee, 140 S. Ct. 2590, 2591 (2020) (per curiam). So to
properly make out an Eighth Amendment claim that the
government’s chosen method of execution is “cruel and
unusual,” U.S. CONST. AMEND. VIII, plaintiffs first must allege
that the execution method is “sure or very likely to cause
serious illness and needless suffering,” and “give rise to
sufficiently imminent dangers.” Glossip v. Gross, 576 U.S.
863, 877 (2015) (formatting modified; quoting Baze v. Rees,
553 U.S. 35, 50 (2008) (opinion of Roberts, C.J.)).
Specifically, the complaint must allege either a “substantial
risk of serious harm” that is “objectively intolerable,” or a
“demonstrated risk of severe pain.” Id. at 877–878 (internal
quotation marks omitted).
In addition, the complaint must show that the risk of this
harm is “substantial when compared to the known and
available alternatives.” Glossip, 576 U.S. at 878 (quoting Baze,
553 U.S. at 61 (opinion of Roberts, C.J.)). The Supreme Court
has described this inquiry as comparative—it is necessary to
identify when pain caused by a method of execution is
“gratuitous” given other methods available to the government.
Bucklew v. Precythe, 139 S. Ct. 1112, 1126 (2019).
Finally, the complaint must “identify an alternative”
method that “is feasible, readily implemented, and in fact
significantly reduce[s] a substantial risk of severe pain.”
Glossip, 576 U.S. at 877 (internal quotation marks omitted)
(quoting Baze, 553 U.S. at 52 (opinion of Roberts, C.J.)). If
the complaint makes each of those showings, the government
cannot refuse to implement the plaintiffs’ suggested alternative
without a legitimate penological reason. Bucklew, 139 S. Ct.
at 1125.

Taking the factual allegations as true, the Plaintiffs’
amended complaint meets that strict test. The complaint and
incorporated declarations allege that, in the “vast majority, if
not all” executions using only pentobarbital, the large dosage
injected will cause flash pulmonary edema—the rapid
accumulation of fluid in the lungs. J.A. 345 ¶ 76, 347 ¶ 79.
More specifically, because of its high pH, pentobarbital is
corrosive. J.A. 345–346 ¶ 76. So when it makes physical
contact with the lungs, it dissolves natural barriers in the body,
causing bodily fluid to course into the airways. J.A. 346 ¶ 76.
As these fluids flood into the lungs, and as the individual
struggles to breathe, the edema creates a foam that fills and
blocks the airways. J.A. 346 ¶ 77. The body’s efforts to
dislodge the painful obstruction only compounds the
problem—the lungs’ effort to dislodge the foam merely causes
them to suck in even more fluid. J.A. 346 ¶ 77.
The complaint further alleges that the pulmonary edema
will occur “virtually instantaneously” upon administration of
the pentobarbital, J.A. 345 ¶ 76 (formatting modified), at a time
when the inmate is still “capable of feeling pain, terror, and
suffocation,” J.A. 347 ¶ 80. As a result, it is “extremely likely,”
to the point of “virtual medical certainty,” that “most, if not all,
prisoners will experience excruciating suffering, including
sensations of drowning and suffocation” during the lethal
injection process. J.A. 347 ¶ 80. That is so, the complaint
alleges, because barbiturates like pentobarbital “do not
guarantee lack of consciousness,” but instead can “produce[]
only unresponsiveness, not unconsciousness or lack of
awareness.” J.A. 345 ¶ 74. In that way, the lethal injection
procedure causes “extreme pain, terror and panic,” because
“[n]ot being able to breathe during drowning or asphyxiation is
one of the most powerful, excruciating feelings known” to
humans. J.A. 346 ¶ 78. While not necessary at the pleading
stage, the amended complaint plausibly substantiates its 
allegations with the declarations of multiple expert witnesses
and eyewitness testimony from executions that employed the
pentobarbital-only execution method. See, e.g., J.A. 345–350,
360–361.
The complaint adds that this extreme suffering could
easily be avoided by providing the inmate a pre-pentobarbital
dose of a pain-relieving anesthetic drug, such as, for example,
fentanyl, which is alleged to be readily available to the
government. J.A. 360–361 ¶ 114. According to the complaint,
the Bureau of Prisons itself has acknowledged that many
companies manufacture fentanyl in the United States and could
provide the drug for executions. J.A. 361 ¶ 114(a). In fact,
Plaintiffs allege that the Bureau of Prisons has located a
lawfully licensed compounding pharmacy that is both “able
and willing” to compound fentanyl for the Bureau as needed.
J.A. 361 ¶ 114(a).
Equally importantly, the complaint does not invoke a
novel or “untried and untested” mode of execution. Bucklew,
139 S. Ct. at 1130 (internal citations omitted). The
combination of drugs as part of lethal injection protocols has
been used by both states and the federal government, and is still
used in a number of jurisdictions. See, e.g., J.A. 384–388;
Glossip, 576 U.S. at 869. The two-drug protocol also fits
squarely within the plain text of the federal execution protocol,
which provides that the method of execution is the
“intravenous injection of a lethal substance or substances[.]”
28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a)(4). To be sure, Plaintiffs propose using
two drugs rather than the three drugs used in many capitalpunishment jurisdictions. But that change eases the logistics
of known protocols, and does so by adding a commonly used
and available pain reliever.

By pleading that the federal government’s execution
protocol involves a “virtual medical certainty” of severe and
torturous pain that is unnecessary to the death process and
could readily be avoided by administering a widely available
analgesic first, the Plaintiffs’ complaint properly and plausibly
states an Eighth Amendment claim. See Glossip, 576 U.S. at
877–878.
Whether Plaintiffs will ultimately be able to climb the
Eighth Amendment’s high constitutional mountain of proof is
not the question for today. See Bucklew, 139 S. Ct. at 1124
(noting that the Supreme Court “has yet to hold that a State’s
method of execution qualifies as cruel and unusual”). The only
issue before us it whether the Plaintiffs have plausibly alleged
the critical elements of a successful Eighth Amendment claim.
Plaintiffs’ complaint hurdles that bar.


B.


The district court’s dismissal of the complaint rested on
two critical legal errors.
First, the district court misread the Supreme Court’s per
curiam decision in Lee, 140 S. Ct. 2590, as holding that,
“absent particular medical circumstances, the use of
pentobarbital will withstand Eighth Amendment scrutiny, no
matter the evidence of excruciating pain.” Order at 5, In re
FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C. Aug. 15, 2020), ECF No.
193; see also Order at 2, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC
(D.D.C. Nov. 3, 2020), ECF No. 305. The district court, in
other words, ruled that whatever pain is caused by pulmonary
edema arising from pentobarbital injections is a type of pain
that is categorically permissible under the Eighth Amendment.
The court added that, under its reading of Lee, “no amount of
new evidence will suffice to prove that the pain pentobarbital
causes reaches unconstitutional levels.” Order at 4, In re 
FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C. Aug. 15, 2020), ECF No.
193; Order at 14, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C.
Sept. 20, 2020), ECF No. 261.
Lee did not hold that the Eighth Amendment turns its back
on needless and extreme suffering as long as it is caused by
flash pulmonary edema. For starters, Lee involved an entirely
different legal question. The Supreme Court’s decision there
arose not out of a motion to dismiss, but Lee’s motion for a
preliminary injunction, which is “an extraordinary remedy that
may only be awarded upon a clear showing that plaintiffs are
entitled to such relief.” Winter v. Nat. Res. Def. Council, 555
U.S. 7, 22 (2008). To obtain a preliminary injunction, Lee had
to show that he was “likely to succeed on the merits, that he
[was] likely to suffer irreparable harm in the absence of
preliminary relief, that the balance of equities tip[ped] in his
favor, and that an injunction [was] in the public interest.” Id.
at 20.
That is a decidedly far more searching inquiry than the
question of whether a complaint properly alleges a claim for
relief. There is nothing “extraordinary” about surviving a Rule
12(b)(6) motion to dismiss. Quite the opposite, the plaintiff
enjoys the benefit of having all plausible allegations and
reasonable inferences from those facts taken in favor of
sustaining the complaint. See Warth v. Seldin, 422 U.S. 490,
501 (1975); see Iqbal, 556 U.S. at 678. Nor must plaintiffs
show a likelihood of success at this stage. They simply must
show that their claim is plausible. Iqbal, 556 U.S. at 678.
That means that all we are deciding at this stage is whether
the complaint contains the necessary factual allegations to state
a legal claim for relief, and so to open the courthouse doors to
the Plaintiffs. That is a far distant inquiry from Lee’s request 
that a court take the extraordinary step of affirmatively
proscribing a party’s behavior before adjudicating its rights.
Second, and relatedly, the court erred in concluding that
Lee forevermore categorically exempted the federal
government’s execution protocol from Eighth Amendment
scrutiny even if it were found to unnecessarily and
unreasonably inflict an “excruciating” death. Order at 5, In re
FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C. Aug. 15, 2020), ECF No.
193. Indeed, the district court went so far as to say that the
Supreme Court in Lee “found no viable Eighth Amendment
challenge.” Order at 3, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC
(D.D.C. Nov. 3, 2020), ECF No. 305.
Not so. Nothing in the Supreme Court’s decision
purported to vastly overshoot the question of whether a stay of
execution should issue and entered a final ruling on the merits
of the case. Rather, all that the Supreme Court said in Lee was
that, under the demanding preliminary-injunction standard and
before any conclusive factual findings could be made in the
case, “competing expert testimony” over whether pulmonary
edema occurs before or after the inmate is rendered insensate
would not by itself support a “last-minute” stay of execution.
Lee, 140 S. Ct. at 2591. Nothing in that ruling addressed the
ability of a well-pleaded complaint to go forward for discovery
and fact finding in the normal course, and it certainly did not
sua sponte enter final judgment in the case. More to the point,
if the government’s pentobarbital protocol were constitutional
as a matter of law no matter what facts and science might show
and regardless of whether every element of an Eighth
Amendment violation were proven, there would have been no
need for the Court to even mention the government’s
competing evidence. 

The government points to Baze, Glossip, and Bucklew as
establishing the constitutionality of its protocol as a matter of
law. But none of these cases involved the federal government’s
execution scheme see Baze, 553 U.S. at 40–41 (opinion of
Roberts, C.J.) (Kentucky death-penalty protocol); Glossip, 576
U.S. at 872–873 (Oklahoma death-penalty protocol), and
therefore those cases do not predetermine the outcome here.
Bucklew was an as-applied challenge to Missouri’s deathpenalty protocol arguing that the inmate’s unique medical
condition rendered the use of pentobarbital cruel and unusual
even in the absence of a viable alternative form of execution.
139 S. Ct. at 1121.
To be sure, those cases collectively mark out the difficult
task ahead for Plaintiffs on the merits. And the government is
correct (Br. 21) that, if all that Plaintiffs can produce at
summary judgment is a “scientific controvers[y]” between
credible experts battling between “marginally safer
alternative[s],” their claim is likely to fail on the merits. See
Baze, 553 U.S. at 51 (opinion of Roberts, C.J.). But not one of
those cases altered the rules governing a motion to dismiss and,
in fact, each one allowed the complaints to proceed past the
pleading stage. See Bucklew, 139 S. Ct. at 1129 (granting
summary judgment for the government after discovery);
Glossip, 576 U.S. at 874 (rejecting claim after discovery and
evidentiary hearing); Baze, 553 U.S. at 46 (opinion of Roberts,
C.J.) (rejecting claim after a “7-day bench trial”). Applying
settled law, we do the same.
Contrary to the district court’s suggestion, at this early
procedural stage of litigation, the Plaintiffs do not need to
prove entirely uniform scientific consensus or that every
execution carried out using pentobarbital in the past was
unconstitutional. See Order at 7, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-
TSC (D.D.C. Nov. 3, 2020), ECF No. 305. Nor do they need 
to show a likelihood of success on the merits. They only need
to plausibly allege that the government’s execution protocol
will, without relevant penological justification, impose a
substantial risk of severe pain and suffering that is needless
given a readily available, administrable, and known alternative.
This complaint does that. The Supreme Court has not said
otherwise. The order of dismissal is reversed.


C.


Plaintiffs Hall and Bernard also request that their stay be
granted on the grounds that they are likely to succeed on the
merits of their Eighth Amendment claim. Plaintiffs argue that
the holding in Lee was limited only to last-minute stays of
execution. This court declined to enjoin a previous execution
based on the exact same Eighth Amendment claim Plaintiffs
put forward here. Order, In re FBOP, No. 20-5252 (D.C. Cir.
Aug. 25, 2020). Because Plaintiffs are unable to distinguish
that precedent, their request for a stay of execution based on
the Eighth Amendment claim is denied.


III.


A.


The district court granted the Plaintiffs partial summary
judgment on their claim that the government’s execution
protocol is contrary to law in violation of the Administrative
Procedure Act to the extent that it allows the dispensing and
injection of pentobarbital without the prescription required by
the FDCA, 21 U.S.C. § 353(b)(1)(B); see also Memorandum
Opinion at 32-33, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Sept.
20, 2020), ECF No. 261; Memorandum Opinion at 6-10, In re
FBOP, No. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Aug. 27, 2020), ECF No. 213.
At the same time, the district court denied Plaintiffs’ motion to
enjoin their executions pending the government’s compliance 
with the FDCA on the ground that they had not shown a
likelihood of suffering irreparable harm due to the absence of
a prescription. On appeal, the Plaintiffs argue that the court
erred in failing both to set aside the Protocol and to enjoin the
government from conducting Plaintiffs’ executions without
first complying with the FDCA. The government, for its part,
argues that the FDCA does not apply to the dispensing and
administration of drugs for lethal injection and that the
Plaintiffs lack a cause of action to enforce the FDCA. We agree
that the district court should have ordered the protocol set aside
only to the extent that it permits the dispensing and
administration of pentobarbital without a prescription. But we
deny the Plaintiffs’ request for an injunction and the
government’s arguments, without having filed a cross-appeal,
that the district court’s FDCA holding should be reversed.
There is no dispute that pentobarbital is a drug regulated
under the FDCA. See 21 U.S.C. § 321(g)(1). Nor is there any
dispute that pentobarbital is the type of drug that the FDCA
requires to be dispensed only through a prescription issued by
a licensed medical professional. 21 U.S.C. § 353(b)(1)(B); see
21 C.F.R. Part 1306.1 There likewise is no question that
prisoners are generally entitled to the protections of the
FDCA’s prescription requirement. See 21 C.F.R. § 1301.23
(exempting Bureau of Prisons officials from registration
requirement, while recognizing their obligations to comply
with regulations governing the issuance and filling of
prescriptions under 21 C.F.R. Part 1306).
1 A number of state laws protect their medical professionals
who write prescriptions for FDCA-covered drugs to be used as part
of an execution protocol. See, e.g., GA. CODE ANN. § 42-5-36(d)(2);
TENN. CODE ANN. § 10-7-504(h)(1); TEX. CRIM. PRO. CODE
§ 43.14(b).

The government nevertheless argues that when
pentobarbital is dispensed and administered to a prisoner as
part of a lethal injection, the FDCA falls away, invoking the
Supreme Court’s decision in Gonzales v. Oregon, 546 U.S. 243
(2006), and FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 529
U.S. 120, 133 (2000). The Supreme Court has never resolved
“the thorny question of the FDA’s jurisdiction” over the drugs
used in lethal injections. Heckler v. Chaney, 470 U.S. 821, 828
(1985). But binding precedent in this circuit has. See Cook v.
FDA, 733 F.3d 1 (D.C. Cir. 2013) (applying the FDCA’s
regulation of drug imports to a lethal injection drug); Chaney
v. Heckler, 718 F.2d 1174, 1179-1182 (D.C. Cir. 1983), rev’d
on other grounds, 470 U.S. 821 (1985); Beaty v. FDA, 853 F.
Supp. 2d 30, 42-43 (D.D.C. 2012) (holding that the Food and
Drug Administration’s failure to apply the FDCA to lethal
injection drugs “undermined the purpose of the [statute] and
acted in a manner contrary to the public health,” with the
consequence that “prisoners on death row have an unnecessary
risk that they will not be anesthetized properly prior to
execution”), aff’d in relevant part, 733 F.3d 1 (D.C. Cir. 2013).
That precedent binds this panel. See LaShawn A. v. Barry, 87
F.3d 1389, 1395 (D.C. Cir. 1996) (en banc).
The government also argues that the FDCA does not
provide the inmates a right of action. That may well be true.
But the Plaintiffs have sued under the APA, which entitles any
person “suffering legal wrong because of agency action” to
judicial review. 5 U.S.C. § 702. And binding circuit precedent
recognizes that the APA provides a cause of action to review
agency action in violation of the FDCA. See Cook, 733 F.3d
at 10-11; Purepac Pharm. Co. v. Thompson, 354 F.3d 877,
884–885 (D.C. Cir. 2004) (quoting Purepac Pharm. Co. v.
Thompson, 238 F. Supp. 2d 191, 212 (D.D.C. 2002)). The
government also argues that 21 U.S.C. § 337 allows only the
government to bring an enforcement proceeding. An APA suit 
to review agency action unlawfully taken against an individual
is not a civil enforcement action, and that provision does not
provide the type of comprehensive review scheme for those
adversely affected by agency action that would displace the
APA. See Cook, 733 F.3d at 10-11. See generally GuerreroLasprilla v. Barr, 140 S. Ct. 1062, 1069 (2020) (“Consider first
a familiar principle of statutory construction: the presumption
favoring judicial review of administrative action.” (citation and
internal quotation marks omitted)).
The Bureau of Prisons does not dispute that it fails to
obtain prescriptions for the pentobarbital used in executions,
nor does it deny that it does not intend to obtain prescriptions
for the upcoming executions. Because, under binding circuit
precedent, the FDCA applies when already-covered drugs like
pentobarbital are used for lethal injections, the execution
protocol as administered by the Federal Bureau of Prisons is
“not in accordance with law” to the extent that it allows the
dispensation and administration of pentobarbital without a
prescription and must be “set aside” in that respect. 5 U.S.C. §
706(2).


B.


The district court, however, was correct to deny the entry
of a permanent injunction. Success on an APA claim does not
automatically entitle the prevailing party to a permanent
injunction. Instead, the party must demonstrate that (i) “it has
suffered an irreparable injury,” (ii) “remedies available at law
* * * are inadequate to compensate for that injury,” (iii) the
balance of hardships weighs in favor of an injunction, and (iv)
“the public interest would not be disserved by a permanent
injunction.” Monsanto Co. v. Geertson Seed Farms, 561 U.S.
139, 156-157 (2010) (quoting eBay Inc. v. MercExchange,
L.L.C., 547 U.S. 388, 391 (2006)). To obtain an injunction, 
then, the prevailing party must demonstrate that it actually “has
suffered,” id., or is “likely to suffer irreparable harm,” Winter
v. Nat. Res. Def. Council, Inc., 555 U.S. 7, 20 (2008). The
district court specifically found, however, that “the evidence in
the record does not support Plaintiffs’ contention that they are
likely to suffer flash pulmonary edema while still conscious,”
Order at 39, In re FBOP, 1:19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C. Sept. 20,
2020), ECF No. 261. The Plaintiffs have not identified before
the district court or this court any other type of irreparable harm
that would likely be suffered due to the unprescribed use of
pentobarbital.


IV.


We hold that the district court did not err in granting
summary judgment for the government on Plaintiffs’ Death
Penalty Act claim.2 Plaintiffs had pointed to several alleged
discrepancies between the 2019 Protocol and state statutes
dictating different methods of execution or aspects of the
execution process. Memorandum Opinion at 27-28, In re
FBOP, 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Sept. 20, 2020), ECF No. 261. The
district court concluded that there was no conflict in this case,
either because the government had committed to complying
with the state statutes at issue or because no Plaintiff had
requested to be executed in accordance with them. Id. at 30-
2 The government maintains that this court lacks jurisdiction to
review the district court’s order granting summary judgment because
the district court had not, at the time of the notice of appeal, entered
final judgment on its Death Penalty Act ruling. The district court has
since entered partial final judgment on Plaintiffs’ Death Penalty Act
claim. Order, In re FBOP, No. 19-mc-145-TSC (D.D.C. Nov. 16,
2020), ECF No. 315. A Rule 54(b) judgment rendered after notice
of appeal is filed is jurisdictionally permissible under our precedents.
See, e.g., Outlaw v. Airtech Air Conditioning & Heating Inc., 412
F.3d 156 (D.C. Cir. 2005).

31. Upon a motion for reconsideration, the district court
affirmed that decision, pointing out that Hall’s request to be
executed after 6 p.m. in accordance with Texas law had been
granted so “Plaintiffs [had] failed to identify a statutory
violation.” Order at 9, In re FBOP, 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Nov.
3, 2020), ECF No. 305. We agree.
In this expedited process, we are particularly mindful to
decide no more than what is necessary to resolve the appeal.
The government here argues that the district court erred in
concluding that the Texas time-of-day provision is
incorporated under the Death Penalty Act because this
provision is not a “procedure[] that effectuate[s] the death.”
Appellee Br. 48 (quoting In re FBOP, 955 F.3d 106, 151 (D.C.
Cir. 2020) (Tatel, J., dissenting)). As we agree with the district
court that there is no live controversy, we find it unnecessary
here to engage in a line-drawing exercise about whether a
statute setting the time of execution is a procedure that
implements “the sentence in the manner prescribed by the law
of the State in which the sentence is imposed.” 18 U.S.C.
§ 3596(a).
Plaintiffs are correct that non-binding statements by a
defendant are generally insufficient to moot an otherwise active
controversy. See United States v. W. T. Grant Co., 345 U.S.
629, 633 (1953) (“Such a profession does not suffice to make
a case moot although it is one of the factors to be considered in
determining the appropriateness of granting an injunction
against the now-discontinued acts.”). But here we have not
only a governmental agreement to comply, but also the absence
of any concretely aggrieved plaintiff. Nonetheless, the
government has affirmed it will comply with the Texas statute
at issue and so Hall’s request to be executed after 6 p.m. has
been granted. J.A. 135. It does not appear that Bernard has
made the same request, but the government has indicated it will 
consider the request if made. In a case where no plaintiff has
asserted a present denial of a desired state procedure, the mere
possibility that the government may not comply with state
procedures, without more, is insufficient to establish a statutory
violation of the Death Penalty Act. Cf. United States v.
Mitchell, 971 F.3d 993, 999 (9th Cir. 2020) (“It is not enough
to show a ‘mere possibility’ that the Bureau of Prisons might
use protocols inconsistent with [state] procedures.” (citation
omitted)).


* * *
For the foregoing reasons, the judgment of the district
court is affirmed in part, reversed in part, and remanded for
further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
So ordered. 

 


PILLARD, Circuit Judge, concurring in part and dissenting
in part: The court correctly holds that, because the 2019
Protocol calls for the use of pentobarbital unaccompanied by
an FDCA-mandated prescription, it must be set aside as
contrary to law under the APA. That conclusion alone requires
a stay of the pending executions until the government complies.
It is the government’s prerogative to execute the Plaintiffs by a
method of its choosing. But if it elects a method subject to
statutory requirements, the government must then abide by
those requirements. The government could choose to execute
Plaintiffs by firing squad, for instance, assuming the method
remained permissible under the Eighth Amendment. But if a
federal statute required that members of a firing squad first be
certified marksmen, the government could not execute a death
row inmate until it ensured that the members of its firing squad
were so certified.
Even if equitable relief is not necessary to pause the
upcoming executions, however, it is my view that the district
court also erred in denying Plaintiffs an injunction preventing
the government from continuing to violate the FDCA. The
district court denied the injunction for want of irreparable
harm, and my colleagues affirm. Because I believe that error
is of continued importance, I dissent from Part III.B of the
opinion.
The FDCA is protective legislation. See POM Wonderful
LLC v. Coca-Cola Co., 573 U.S. 102, 115 (2014) (“[T]he
FDCA protects public health and safety.”). Its statutory
safeguards exist to ensure that drugs are correctly administered
and their potential adverse effects minimized, in light of current
medical knowledge and the circumstances of the individual.
See FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 529 U.S. 120,
134 (2000) (noting FDA’s mission includes “protect[ing] the
public health by ensuring that . . . drugs are safe and effective”
(citation omitted)). Its applicability does not depend on
specific vulnerabilities of the recipients of controlled 
substances. Rather, it categorically imposes safety procedures
to mitigate risk of bodily harm from the administration of
powerful medications with complex characteristics. Included
among the statute’s protections is its requirement that some
drugs be dispensed only with a prescription from a medical
professional. The government’s decision to ignore such
statutory protections subjects those affected to substantial and
unnecessary risks of bodily injury, illness, and suffering.
Unlike commercial harms, which are readily remedied by
damages, harms to the body have long been treated as
irreparable. Set aside for a moment the fact that the Plaintiffs
here are on death row and that the medication at issue is
intended to be used in lethal injections. A plan by the
government to inject anyone with therapeutic, non-lethal drugs
disbursed and administered in violation of the FDCA would
pose precisely the type of health risks that the FDCA is
intended to prevent. The fact that the government here
proposes to engage in this conduct in the context of executions
does not change the calculus—there remains the irreparable
harm that is inherent in the administration of barbiturates
without medical guidance. Certain risks against which the
FDCA’s requirements would ordinarily shield, like those to
future health, are not relevant once an inmate is executed. But
risks of potential physical degradation and a painful and
prolonged dying process could be minimized were the
government to follow the FDCA’s mandates.
The district court did not question the type of harm in this
case; after all, the Plaintiffs painted quite a clear picture of the
damage flash pulmonary edema can do to an inmate during
execution, and presented expert evidence that that damage is
done while an inmate is still sensate. What the district court
questioned was the likelihood of that harm. At one point in the
court’s order denying Plaintiffs their injunction, it faulted them
for failing to show “that they will suffer irreparable injury,” 
Memorandum Opinion at 35, In re FBOP, 19-mc-145 (D.D.C.
Sept. 20, 2020), ECF No. 261 (quoting Monsanto Co. v.
Geertson Seed Farms, 561 U.S. 139, 162 (2010)). Later it
suggested the problem was that they had not shown the harm
was sufficiently likely. But “[i]n the context of safety
regulations, risk is itself the harm prohibited by law. Exposure
to that harm thus is irreparable injury.” Nat’l Ass’n of
Farmworkers Orgs. v. Marshall, 628 F.2d 604, 613 n.39 (D.C.
Cir. 1980). Consider an official agency policy of sending truck
drivers out onto the roads without seatbelts, or of serving meats
to employees stored at a temperature below what federal
regulations require. In either of these cases the agency would
be subject to an injunction without a further evidentiary
showing of how likely it was that the drivers or diners were to
be injured. Where a legal mandate protecting bodily health and
safety is concerned, the law itself reflects the regulatory or
legislative judgment that the driver and the diner are likely to
suffer harm if that mandate is ignored.
I thus disagree that a certain showing of any one specific
risk is required before a court can enjoin the government from
continuing to disregard health- and safety-related mandates.
But assuming the Plaintiffs did have to show the risks they
expect to face from the government’s refusal to comply with
the FDCA, the record suggests the district court may have
erroneously equated the showing of irreparable harm sufficient
to enjoin a violation of the FDCA with the showing needed to
support injunctive relief on Eighth Amendment grounds.
Before the Supreme Court’s July decision in Barr v. Lee, 140
S. Ct. 2590 (2020), the district court found that Plaintiffs’
evidence on the complaint alone “overwhelmingly indicate[d]
that the 2019 Protocol is very likely to cause Plaintiffs extreme
pain and needless suffering during their executions.”
Memorandum Opinion at 9, In re FBOP, 19-mc-145 (D.D.C.
July 13, 2020), ECF No. 135. The court cited Plaintiffs’ 
experts’ declarations demonstrating “that the majority of
inmates executed via pentobarbital injection suffered flash
pulmonary edema during the procedure.” Id. at 9-10.
Recognizing the key issue as timing—whether the inmates
could feel the effects of flash pulmonary edema, as Plaintiffs
alleged, or whether they were insensate when it occurred, as
the government argued—the district court concluded the
Plaintiffs had the better of the evidence. Id. at 12. Only after
the Supreme Court vacated a preliminary injunction on
Plaintiffs’ Eighth Amendment claim did the district court find
that Plaintiffs had failed to show irreparable harm. The court
did initially enter an injunction on the FDCA violation, but it
failed in that order to discuss irreparable harm, and we
remanded its order on that ground that same day. The court
then held an evidentiary hearing on the issue of irreparable
harm and denied the injunction for want of a showing that
Plaintiffs were “likely” to suffer flash pulmonary edema.
Memorandum Opinion at 36, In re FBOP, 19-mc-145 (D.D.C.
Sept. 20, 2020), ECF No. 261. Even then, however, the court
“continue[d] to be concerned at the possibility that inmates will
suffer excruciating pain during their executions.” Id.
If the district court treated as interchangeable the
evidentiary requirements for an injunction under the
Constitution and the statute, that was legal error. According to
Supreme Court precedent, the Eighth Amendment sets a
constitutional floor on the pain and degradation to which a
death row inmate may be subjected during an execution; it
“does not guarantee a prisoner a painless death.” Bucklew v.
Precythe, 139 S. Ct. 1112, 1124 (2019). The purpose of the
statutory protections of the FDCA, in contrast, is to guard
patients from various risks that medical guidance and
supervision might eliminate. Thus, even where harms are not
unconstitutional under the Eighth Amendment, they may
nonetheless give rise to statutory violations under the FDCA 
entitling Plaintiffs to redress. On their Eighth Amendment
claim, Plaintiffs must demonstrate that their method of
execution involves a “substantial risk of severe pain.” Glossip
v. Gross, 576 U.S. 863, 882 (2015). This necessarily means
the Eighth Amendment permits at least some methods of
execution that impose a less-than-substantial risk of pain. But
no similar threshold applies under the FDCA. Thus, while the
evidence of flash pulmonary edema the Plaintiffs brought to
bear on their Eighth Amendment claim may also bear on their
FDCA claim, the statute guards against the risks of avoidable
pain at lower levels as well.
I believe that the risk of harm flowing from the FDCA
violation in this case readily meets the threshold for irreparable
injury. In any event, the record suggests that the district court
may have applied the threshold of expected harm required for
an Eighth Amendment injunction to deny the injunction under
the FDCA. Rather than affirming the denial of the FDCA
injunction, we should have clarified the distinction and
remanded to give the court an opportunity to reconsider
whether the record supports enjoining the FDCA violation.
The government further asserts that, even assuming
Plaintiffs have shown irreparable harm, the balance of equities
and public interest weigh against an injunction barring them
from executing additional Plaintiffs pending compliance with
the FDCA. The district court did not reach these equities, but
they merit comment as an important and recurring aspect of the
Plaintiffs’ method-of-execution challenges.
The public interest as the government sees it requires
adherence to the current execution schedule. Appellees Br. 39-
40. It is our responsibility as courts “to ensure that method-ofexecution challenges to lawfully issued sentences are resolved
fairly and expeditiously.” Barr v. Lee, 140 S. Ct. at 2591
(citation omitted). But Plaintiffs have thus far pressed their
concededly nonfrivolous claims with dispatch, and the
government has made no showing of delay that will result if
they comply with the FDCA.
The government suggests that Plaintiffs’ challenges “have
already been the subject of multiple rounds of litigation,”
Appellees Br. 7, but the “rounds of litigation” to which it refers
were the result of a series of individual Plaintiffs each seeking
to enjoin executions scheduled to take place before resolution
of the merits of their promptly and plausibly pleaded claims.
Plaintiffs sought those injunctions precisely so that they would
have an opportunity to litigate their claims. The particular
method of execution Plaintiffs would face—including the
extent to which it would be determined by state law—was only
quite recently determined, see In re FBOP, 955 F.3d 106, 110-
11 (D.C. Cir. 2020), and we recognized when we resolved
those claims under the Death Penalty Act and APA that,
“regardless of our disposition, several claims would remain
open on remand,” id. at 113. Three of those claims are now
before us. It is difficult to see what more Plaintiffs might have
done to obtain earlier rulings on the merits of their claims.
Time that the government and the courts have reasonably
required cannot weigh against Plaintiffs’ entitlement to a
permanent injunction. And, for its part, the government has not
introduced any evidence that it would be unable promptly to
obtain a prescription if it sought to do so.
The public interest that the sentences be promptly carried
out must be weighed against the public interest in adhering to
applicable legal requirements, including the FDCA’s controls
on drug administration. And the Plaintiffs have aligned
interests in avoiding the elevated risks of severe and gratuitous
pain from administration of pentobarbital absent the requisite
statutory safeguards. On this record, it would appear that 
Plaintiffs’ interest in avoiding those elevated risks outweighs
the government’s interest in proceeding with the executions as
scheduled without obtaining the required prescriptions.
For these reasons, I would have reversed and remanded the
district court’s decision to deny injunctive relief for the FDCA
violation.

 


RAO, Circuit Judge, concurring in part, concurring in the
judgment, and dissenting in part: The district court held that the
government’s decision to administer pentobarbital for lethal
injections without a prescription violates the Federal Food,
Drug & Cosmetic Act (“FDCA”) and so is contrary to law
under the Administrative Procedure Act (“APA”). The district
court also dismissed Plaintiffs’ Eighth Amendment claim for
failure to state a claim and granted summary judgment to the
government on Plaintiffs’ Federal Death Penalty Act (“Death
Penalty Act”) claim. I agree to vacate the district court’s
dismissal of the Eighth Amendment claim and affirm the grant
of summary judgment on the Death Penalty Act claim. My
colleagues conclude that binding circuit precedent mandates
the application of the FDCA to drugs administered for capital
punishment and order the district court to set aside the Protocol
under the APA until the government procures prescriptions for
the lethal injection drugs. I disagree that this conclusion is
required by our precedent. Moreover, application of the FDCA
to drugs used in lethal injections is inconsistent with the
statutory text and the Supreme Court’s decision in FDA v.
Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 529 U.S. 120 (2000). In
any event, Plaintiffs have no authority to challenge the Food
and Drug Administration’s decision not to enforce the FDCA
in this context. See Heckler v. Chaney, 470 U.S. 821, 837–38
(1985). Accordingly, I respectfully concur in part, concur in
the judgment, and dissent in part.

* * *


I agree that the district court correctly granted summary
judgment for the government on the Death Penalty Act claim.
I also concur in the judgment that the district court erred when
it dismissed Plaintiffs’ Eighth Amendment claim for failure to
state a claim, FED. R. CIV. P. 12(b)(6). Plaintiffs needed only to
plead factual allegations, accepted as true, sufficient to state a 
plausible claim that the government’s protocol violates the
Eighth Amendment. See Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 678
(2009); accord Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 555
(2007). To constitute a violation of the Eighth Amendment
based on the method of execution, the Supreme Court has held
a plaintiff must establish that the method creates “a
demonstrated risk of severe pain” and propose “an alternative
that is feasible, readily implemented, and in fact significantly
reduces a substantial risk of severe pain.” Glossip v. Gross, 576
U.S. 863, 877–78 (2015) (cleaned up).
Plaintiffs’ pleadings, taken as true, plausibly support the
claim that the use of pentobarbital poses a demonstrated risk of
severe pain. Yet after the Supreme Court held that Plaintiffs
were unlikely to succeed on the merits of this claim in the
context of preliminary injunctive relief, see Barr v. Lee, 140 S.
Ct. 2590 (2020) (per curiam), the district court took that as a
suggestion that the claim would fail and dismissed it. To be
sure, Plaintiffs face an exceptionally high bar to succeed on the
merits of their method-of-execution claim, as no such claim has
yet to succeed at the Supreme Court. See Bucklew v. Precythe,
139 S. Ct. 1112, 1124 (2019); see also Glossip, 576 U.S. at
877; Baze v. Rees, 553 U.S. 35 (2008). The Court has warned
against “transform[ing] courts into boards of inquiry charged
with determining ‘best practices’ for executions, with each
ruling supplanted by another round of litigation touting a new
and improved methodology.” Baze, 553 U.S. at 51. In the
current round of this litigation, it remains to be seen whether
Plaintiffs can prevail on the merits of their Eighth Amendment
claim, but the district court erred by dismissing the claim at the
pleading stage. Because little more need be said on this error, I
concur only in the judgment with respect to this issue.

* * *
I dissent with respect to Part III.A, which holds that the
2019 Protocol should be set aside to the extent that it permits
the use of pentobarbital for executions without a prescription.
While we are bound by previous decisions of our circuit, no
case conclusively holds that the FDCA regulates drugs when
used for lethal injection in the course of an otherwise lawful
execution. My colleagues rely on Cook v. FDA, 733 F.3d 1
(D.C. Cir. 2013); however, that case did not resolve the
question of whether the FDCA applies to lethal injection drugs.
Rather in Cook, the court accepted the FDA’s concession that
an imported lethal injection drug was an “unapproved new
drug,” and used that concession to conclude that the FDA was
required to refuse admission to any foreign drug that appeared
to violate FDCA provisions on misbranded and unapproved
new drugs. See id. at 11 (cleaned up). Thus, we merely assumed
the applicability of the FDCA to lethal injection drugs in the
context of the FDA’s enforcement obligations over foreign
drugs imported to the United States. An assumption cannot
bind us on this important question of statutory interpretation.1
See, e.g., Cooper Indus., Inc. v. Aviall Servs., Inc., 543 U.S.
157, 170 (2004) (“Questions which merely lurk in the record,
neither brought to the attention of the court nor ruled upon, are
1 Neither am I persuaded by the district court’s analysis of the
question in Cook’s underlying proceeding, Beaty, 853 F. Supp. 2d 30
(D.D.C. 2012). The district court’s holding that, by declining to
apply the FDCA to lethal injection drugs, the FDA had “undermined
the purpose of the [statute] and acted in a manner contrary to the
public health,” id. at 42, significantly expanded the agency’s
jurisdiction, but did not explain how application of the FDCA to
drugs obtained for lethal injection is consistent with the text of the
FDCA and Supreme Court precedent. 

not to be considered as having been so decided as to constitute
precedents.”) (quoting Webster v. Fall, 266 U.S. 507, 511
(1925)). Earlier in this litigation, this court concluded that the
applicability of the FDCA was a necessary premise of the Cook
decision. See In re Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Execution
Protocol Cases, No. 20-5206, slip op. at 3 (D.C. Cir. July 15,
2020). The district court had stayed Plaintiffs’ executions,
holding that they had demonstrated a likelihood of success on
the merits of their FDCA claims; we refused to allow one of
the executions to move forward, denying the government’s
motion for a stay pending appeal. Id. at 2. This court did not
explicitly hold that the FDCA applies to drugs used in lethal
injections. Instead, in the context of assessing whether the
government had established a likelihood of success on the
merits, we suggested that the government had not met the high
bar to establish that Brown & Williamson should prevent the
application of the FDCA. Id. at 3. The next day, the Supreme
Court vacated the district court’s injunction without comment.
Barr v. Purkey, No. 20A10, 2020 WL 4006821, at *1 (U.S.
July 16, 2020).
My colleagues also rely on this court’s holding in Chaney
v. Heckler for the proposition that the FDA has jurisdiction
over drugs used for lethal injection. 718 F.2d 1174, 1179–82
(D.C. Cir. 1983), rev’d, 470 U.S. at 838. Even if the Supreme
Court declined to resolve this question explicitly in Heckler,
470 U.S. at 828, our court’s jurisdictional finding was based on
the understanding that “Congress clearly intended that the
[FDCA’s] ‘coverage be as broad as its literal language
indicates,’” Chaney, 718 F.2d at 1179 (citation omitted). Our
literal and expansive reading of the FDA’s jurisdiction in
Chaney conflicts with the Supreme Court’s later decision in
Brown & Williamson, which rejected a broad assertion of
jurisdiction by the FDA over tobacco products and cautioned
courts to read statutes in the context of other enacted laws to 
ensure “a symmetrical and coherent regulatory scheme.”
Brown & Williamson, 529 U.S. at 133 (citation omitted). In
sum, none of our earlier decisions mandate that we interpret the
FDCA to require a prescription for the government’s use of
pentobarbital for lethal injections.
Therefore, I would proceed to address the statutory
question directly. The government vigorously contests the
applicability of the FDCA to drugs used in lethal injections, a
question with significant implications for the administration of
the death penalty by federal and state governments. The
government maintains that, when a drug’s intended use is to
effectuate capital punishment by the federal government or a
state, it is not subject to regulation under the FDCA. Appellees’
Br. 26 (citing Whether the FDA Has Jurisdiction over Articles
Intended for Use in Lawful Executions, slip op. O.L.C., 2019
WL 2235666 (May 3, 2019)). Squarely faced with a dispute
over the meaning of the statute, I would proceed to interpret
the text of the FDCA in a manner that comports with its
structure and history, other significant laws enacted by
Congress, and binding Supreme Court precedent. See Brown &
Williamson, 529 U.S. at 133.
First, the FDCA grants the FDA the authority to regulate
all “drugs” and “devices,” which include, among other things,
any “articles (other than food) intended to affect the structure
or any function of the body.” 21 U.S.C. § 321(g)(1)(C). While
the FDA’s authority is expansive, it is not without limit. The
Supreme Court has explained that we must understand this
broad authority in light of specific provisions of the FDCA, as
well as other statutory frameworks that might preclude
jurisdiction even when it would otherwise appear to be
included in the literal meaning of the FDCA. See Brown &
Williamson, 529 U.S. at 133 (“[T]he meaning of one statute
may be affected by other Acts, particularly where Congress has 
spoken subsequently and more specifically to the topic at
hand.”).
Here, applying the requirements of the FDCA to lethal
injection drugs does not cohere with the text and structure of
the whole statute. In particular, Plaintiffs seek to require the
government to obtain a prescription for the use of execution
drugs. Section 353 of the FDCA, which requires an oral or
written prescription for “[a] drug intended for use by man
which (A) because of its toxicity or other potentiality for
harmful effect, or the method of its use, or the collateral
measures necessary to its use, is not safe for use except under
the supervision of a practitioner licensed by law to administer
such drug; or (B) is limited by an approved application under
section 355 of this title to use under the professional
supervision of a practitioner licensed by law to administer such
drug.” 21 U.S.C. § 353(b)(1)(A)–(B) (emphasis added). This
language makes clear that the prescription requirement is
designed with the therapeutic benefit of the patient in mind.
The other relevant provisions identified by the district court—
premarket approval by the FDA and labeling requirements—
share this focus. Each of these provisions serves to protect the
public by ensuring that a product is safe for its intended
therapeutic use. Indeed, the Supreme Court has recognized that
the FDCA “generally requires the FDA to prevent the
marketing of any drug or device where the potential for
inflicting death or physical injury is not offset by the possibility
of therapeutic benefit.” Brown & Williamson, 529 U.S. at 134
(cleaned up); see also United States v. Rutherford, 442 U.S.
544, 555 (1979) (“[T]he Commissioner generally considers a
drug safe when the expected therapeutic gain justifies the risk
entailed by its use.”).
By contrast, drugs used for the purpose of lethal injection
have a certainty of inflicting death. There is no corresponding 
therapeutic benefit of a drug used to administer a lethal
injection in the context of capital punishment. To apply the
FDCA’s careful balancing of therapeutic risks and benefits to
execution drugs would distort the Act’s framework.
Moreover, such an expansive application of the FDCA
would run headlong into the numerous statutes Congress has
enacted providing for capital punishment. Since 1790,
Congress has authorized the death penalty for various
violations of federal law. See, e.g., An Act for the Punishment
of Certain Crimes § 33, 1 Stat. 112, 119 (Apr. 30, 1790); see
also Act of June 19, 1937, ch. 367, 50 Stat. 304, 304 (repealed
1984). Most recently, Congress enacted the Federal Death
Penalty Act of 1994, which reestablished the federal death
penalty and provides for the U.S. marshal to “supervise
implementation of the sentence in the manner prescribed by the
law of the State in which the sentence is imposed.” 18 U.S.C.
§ 3596(a). In 1994, as today, lethal injection is one of the most
common methods of execution and, in many States, the
exclusive method of execution. The 1994 Act unambiguously
assumes the continued availability of drugs necessary for
execution by lethal injection.
The general terms of the FDCA cannot be reconciled with
this separate and distinct scheme for capital punishment,
reenacted by Congress against a background of expanding use
of lethal injection by the States. See Brown & Williamson, 529
U.S. at 137 (finding relevant to the analysis that Congress had
“foreclosed the removal of tobacco products from the
market”). My colleagues’ interpretation of the FDCA creates a
significant and entirely novel impediment to this method of
capital punishment, not only for federal executions, but also for
State executions. Yet the Supreme Court has repeatedly upheld
lethal injection as a constitutional method of execution. See,
e.g., Baze v. Rees, 553 U.S. at 40–41 (explaining that the 
progress of states towards a more humane method of capital
punishment “has led to the use of lethal injection by every
jurisdiction that imposes the death penalty”).
Furthermore, the FDA’s longstanding policy of declining
jurisdiction over lethal injection drugs reinforces the propriety
of not extending the FDCA’s requirements here. See Brown &
Williamson, 529 U.S. at 146. The FDCA was enacted in 1938,
Act of June 25, 1938, ch. 675, 52 Stat. 1040, and lethal
injection has been used as a method of execution since the
1970s. From the first use of otherwise FDA-approved drugs in
capital punishment, the FDA has not attempted to exercise
jurisdiction over drugs or devices intended to carry out lawful
sentences of capital punishment.2 This commonsense approach
is consistent with the overarching purpose of the FDCA—to
ensure that drugs and devices in interstate commerce are safe
and effective for their intended uses. The intended use of a drug
or device in the capital punishment context is to end human
life. It is “implausible … that the FDA is required to exercise
its enforcement power to ensure that States only use drugs that
2 After Beaty entered an injunction requiring the FDA to block
foreign shipments of sodium thiopental, in 2015, the FDA blocked
Texas’s attempt to import the drug for use in capital punishment. See
Letter from Todd W. Cato, Director, Southwest Import District
Office at 1–2 (Apr. 20, 2017). The FDA expressly asserted
jurisdiction over lethal injection drugs for the first time, but its
decision was premised on the fact that Texas conceded that the
sodium thiopental was a “drug” within the meaning of the FDCA,
and that the “FDA is bound by the terms of the order issued” in
Beaty. Id. The government’s more recent, considered position is
reflected in the 2019 Office of Legal Counsel Memorandum,
Whether the FDA Has Jurisdiction over Articles Intended for Use in
Lawful Executions, slip op. O.L.C., 2019 WL 2235666 (May 3,
2019).

are ‘safe and effective’ for human execution.” Heckler, 470
U.S. at 827.
The district court here held that when “the government
argues that a lethal injection drug is legally and constitutionally
permissible because it will ensure a ‘humane’ death, it cannot
then disclaim a responsibility to comply with federal statutes
enacted to ensure that the drugs operate humanely.” J.A. 558.
This appears to conflate the general requirement that
executions comport with the Eighth Amendment with the
purpose of the FDCA to ensure that a product’s anticipated
therapeutic benefit outweighs its risk of harm. See Brown &
Williamson, 529 U.S. at 140. The fact that executions should
be carried out in a humane manner does not mean the FDCA
applies. I express no opinion on the policy arguments regarding
the purported advantages of requiring a prescription for lethal
injection drugs—I simply do not think the FDCA includes such
a requirement. Therefore Congress, rather than the courts, must
decide how to resolve such policy questions in the sensitive
area of capital punishment.
* * *
Even if the FDCA applied in this case, these Plaintiffs
cannot challenge the FDA’s nonenforcement decision. As the
Court held in Heckler, the “FDA’s decision not to
take … enforcement action[]” to prevent the use of drugs
intended for use in lethal injection is “not subject to judicial
review under the APA.” 470 U.S. at 837–38. The FDCA
specifically confers such enforcement authority on the
government. See 21 U.S.C. § 337(a) (“[A]ll such proceedings
for the enforcement, or to restrain violations, of this chapter
shall be by and in the name of the United States.”) (emphasis
added). This is not an enforcement proceeding, but it is an 
attempt by the Plaintiffs to restrain violations of the FDCA.
Section 337 gives that authority to the government.
Despite the absence of a private right of action in the
FDCA, the district court held that the APA provides a private
right of action for agency actions “not in accordance with law”
under 5 U.S.C. § 706(2)(A). Mem. Op., Roane v. Barr, No. 19-
mc-145, at *5 (D.D.C. Aug. 27, 2020), ECF No. 213.
Acknowledging that the FDCA does not contain a private right
of action, the district court relied on Chrysler Corp. v. Brown,
441 U.S. 281, 316–18 (1979), to find that the APA could
nonetheless supply what the statute lacked: a right to enforce
the FDCA’s premarketing, labeling, and prescription
requirements against the federal government. Mem. Op. at *5.
The district court’s holding appears to conflict with the
Supreme Court’s acknowledgement that an APA action is
precluded by federal statutory schemes that foreclose private
party enforcement. The APA confers a general cause of action
upon persons “adversely affected or aggrieved by agency
action within the meaning of a relevant statute,” 5 U.S.C.
§ 702, but withdraws that cause of action to the extent the
relevant statute “preclude[s] judicial review,” id. § 701(a)(1).
See Block v. Cmty. Nutrition Inst., 467 U.S. 340, 352–53 (1984)
(holding that Congress intended to preclude consumer
challenges to milk marketing orders and that such a holding
would not frustrate the statute’s objectives). “Whether and to
what extent a particular statute precludes judicial review” is by
necessity a fact specific inquiry that turns on the express
statutory language, structure, purpose, and history, and the
nature of the administrative action involved. Block, 467 U.S. at
345. It is not enough to assume, as the district court did, that
the APA can provide the right of action here. Such an
assumption is unwarranted under the FDCA, which places
enforcement authority exclusively with the government. Cf. 
Buckman Co. v. Plaintiffs’ Legal Comm., 531 U.S. 341, 349
n.4 (2001); Perez v. Nidek Co., 711 F.3d 1109, 1119 (9th Cir.
2013) (“Although citizens may petition the FDA to take
administrative action … private enforcement of the statute is
barred.”). Because enforcement of the FDCA is committed to
the government, private litigants cannot sue to enforce its
provisions.

4.3.2 Barr v. Lee, 591 U.S. __ (Jul. 14, 2020) (per curiam) 4.3.2 Barr v. Lee, 591 U.S. __ (Jul. 14, 2020) (per curiam)

Opinion [Link]


SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________
No. 20A8
_________________
WILLIAM P. BARR, ATTORNEY GENERAL, ET AL. v.
DANIEL LEWIS LEE, ET AL.


ON APPLICATION FOR STAY OR VACATUR


[July 14, 2020]


PER CURIAM.
The application for stay or vacatur presented to THE
CHIEF JUSTICE and by him referred to the Court is granted.
The District Court’s July 13, 2020 order granting a preliminary injunction is vacated.
The plaintiffs in this case are all federal prisoners who
have been sentenced to death for murdering children. The
plaintiffs committed their crimes decades ago and have long
exhausted all avenues for direct and collateral review. The
first of their executions was scheduled to take place this afternoon, with others to follow this week and next month.
To carry out these sentences, the Federal Government
plans to use a single drug—pentobarbital sodium—that “is
widely conceded to be able to render a person fully insensate” and “does not carry the risks” of pain that some have
associated with other lethal injection protocols. Zagorski v.
Parker, 586 U. S. ___, ___ (2018) (Sotomayor, J., dissenting
from denial of application for stay and denial of certiorari)
(slip op., at 2).
Hours before the first execution was set to take place, the
District Court preliminarily enjoined all four executions on
the ground that the use of pentobarbital likely constitutes
cruel and unusual punishment prohibited by the Eighth
Amendment. Vacatur of that injunction is appropriate because, among other reasons, the plaintiffs have not established that they are likely to succeed on the merits of their 
Eighth Amendment claim. That claim faces an exceedingly
high bar. “This Court has yet to hold that a State’s method
of execution qualifies as cruel and unusual.” Bucklew v.
Precythe, 587 U. S. ___, ___ (2019) (slip op., at 12). For good
reason—“[f]ar from seeking to superadd terror, pain, or disgrace to their executions, the States have often sought more
nearly the opposite,” developing new methods, such as lethal injection, thought to be less painful and more humane
than traditional methods, like hanging, that have been uniformly regarded as constitutional for centuries. Ibid. The
Federal Government followed this trend by selecting a lethal injection protocol—single-dose pentobarbital—that
has become a mainstay of state executions. Pentobarbital:
• Has been adopted by five of the small number of
States that currently implement the death penalty.
• Has been used to carry out over 100 executions, without incident.
• Has been repeatedly invoked by prisoners as a less
painful and risky alternative to the lethal injection
protocols of other jurisdictions.
• Was upheld by this Court last year, as applied to a
prisoner with a unique medical condition that could
only have increased any baseline risk of pain associated with pentobarbital as a general matter. See
Bucklew, 587 U. S. ___.
• Has been upheld by numerous Courts of Appeals
against Eighth Amendment challenges similar to
the one presented here. See, e.g., Whitaker v. Collier, 862 F. 3d 490 (CA5 2017); Zink v. Lombardi,
783 F. 3d 1089 (CA8 2015); Gissendaner v. Commissioner, 779 F. 3d 1275 (CA11 2015).

Against this backdrop, the plaintiffs cite new expert declarations suggesting that pentobarbital causes prisoners to
experience “flash pulmonary edema,” a form of respiratory
distress that temporarily produces the sensation of drowning or asphyxiation. But the Government has produced
competing expert testimony of its own, indicating that any
pulmonary edema occurs only after the prisoner has died or
been rendered fully insensate. The plaintiffs in this case
have not made the showing required to justify last-minute
intervention by a Federal Court. “Last-minute stays” like
that issued this morning “should be the extreme exception,
not the norm.” Bucklew, 587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 30).
It is our responsibility “to ensure that method-of-execution
challenges to lawfully issued sentences are resolved fairly
and expeditiously,” so that “the question of capital punishment” can remain with “the people and their representatives, not the courts, to resolve.” Id., at ___–___ (slip op., at
29–30). In keeping with that responsibility, we vacate the
District Court’s preliminary injunction so that the plaintiffs’ executions may proceed as planned.


It is so ordered.



BREYER, J., dissenting
SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________
No. 20A8
_________________
WILLIAM P. BARR, ATTORNEY GENERAL, ET AL. v.
DANIEL LEWIS LEE, ET AL.


ON APPLICATION FOR STAY OR VACATUR


[July 14, 2020]


JUSTICE BREYER, with whom JUSTICE GINSBURG joins,
dissenting.
Today, for the first time in 17 years, the Federal Government will execute an inmate, Daniel Lewis Lee. I have previously described how various features of the death penalty
as currently administered show that it may well violate the
Constitution. See Glossip v. Gross, 576 U. S. 863, 908–946
(2015) (dissenting opinion). The Federal Government’s decision to resume executions renders the question of the
death penalty’s constitutionality yet more pressing.
Given the finality and seriousness of a death sentence, it
is particularly important to ensure that the individuals sentenced to death are guilty, that they received full and fair
procedures, and that they do not spend excessively long periods of time on death row. Courts must also ensure that
executions take place through means that are not inhumane.
This case illustrates at least some of the problems the
death penalty raises in light of the Constitution’s prohibition against “cruel and unusual punishmen[t].” Amdt. 8.
Mr. Lee was sentenced to death in 1999 and has now spent
over 20 years on death row. Such lengthy delays inflict severe psychological suffering on inmates and undermine the
penological rationale for the death penalty. See Glossip,
576 U. S., at 923–935 (BREYER, J., dissenting). Moreover,
the death penalty is often imposed arbitrarily. Id., at 915–
923. Mr. Lee’s co-defendant in his capital case was sentenced to life imprisonment despite committing the same
crime. Amended Judgment in Lee v. United States, No. 20–
2351 (CA 8), pp. 3–4 (July 12, 2020) (Kelly, J., dissenting
from denial of stay of execution); id., at 5–7 (explaining that
Mr. Lee’s execution “raises real concerns about the arbitrary application of the death penalty”).
Moreover, there are significant questions regarding the
constitutionality of the method the Federal Government
will use to execute him. The Government announced on
July 25, 2019, that it planned to resume federal executions,
after nearly two decades, pursuant to a new single-drug
protocol using pentobarbital. See Press Release, Dept. of
Justice, Federal Government to Resume Capital Punishment After Nearly Two Decade Lapse, https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/federal-government-resume-capital-punishment-after-nearly-two-decade-lapse. In an opinion
preliminarily enjoining the execution of Mr. Lee and three
other plaintiffs, the U. S. District Court for the District of
Columbia explained that the “scientific evidence before [it]
overwhelmingly indicates that the [Government’s] 2019
Protocol is very likely to cause Plaintiffs extreme pain and
needless suffering during their executions.” Memorandum
Opinion in No. 19–mc–145, In the Matter of the Federal Bureau of Prison’s Execution Protocol Cases, Doc. 135, pp. 9,
11 (July 13, 2020). That court also explained that Mr. Lee
and the other plaintiffs had “identified two available and
readily implementable alternative methods of execution
that would significantly reduce the risk of serious pain.”
Id., at 18.
In short, the resumption of federal executions promises
to provide examples that illustrate the difficulties of administering the death penalty consistent with the Constitution.
As I have previously written, the solution may be for this
Court to directly examine the question whether the death
penalty violates the Constitution. See Glossip v. Gross, 576 
U. S., at 946 (dissenting opinion). 

 



SOTOMAYOR, J., dissenting


SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________
No. 20A8
_________________
WILLIAM P. BARR, ATTORNEY GENERAL, ET AL. v.
DANIEL LEWIS LEE, ET AL.


ON APPLICATION FOR STAY OR VACATUR


[July 14, 2020]


JUSTICE SOTOMAYOR, with whom JUSTICE GINSBURG and
JUSTICE KAGAN join, dissenting.
The Court hastily disposes of respondents’ Eighth
Amendment challenge to the use of pentobarbital in the
Federal Government’s single-drug execution protocol. In
doing so, the Court accepts the Government’s artificial
claim of urgency to truncate ordinary procedures of judicial
review. This sets a dangerous precedent. The Government
is poised to carry out the first federal executions in nearly
two decades. Yet because of the Court’s rush to dispose of
this litigation in an emergency posture, there will be no
meaningful judicial review of the grave, fact-heavy challenges respondents bring to the way in which the Government plans to execute them.

I


Respondents’ original complaint in this case dates back
to 2005. Since then, the Government has modified its execution protocol in significant part, most recently in July
2019 when it replaced the three-drug protocol with a single
drug: pentobarbital sodium. App. to Application for Stay or
Vacatur 5a. In light of this change, respondents alleged
that the Government’s planned use of pentobarbital could
result in needless pain and suffering in violation of the
Eighth Amendment. Among other things, respondents
proffered expert evidence that the majority of those injected 
with pentobarbital suffer flash pulmonary edema, which
can lead to a sensation akin to drowning and “‘extreme
pain, terror, and panic.’” Id., at 10a. Respondents first focused their litigation efforts on the claim that the 2019 protocol exceeds statutory authority, although they also alleged that the protocol violated the Administrative
Procedure Act, the Controlled Substances Act, the Food,
Drug, and Cosmetic Act, and the Constitution. The Court
of Appeals issued a final ruling on the statutory-authority
claim in April 2020, expressly declining to rule on respondents’ remaining claims on the ground that they were “‘neither addressed by the district court nor fully briefed.’” Id.,
at 7a. This Court denied review two weeks ago.
On June 15, 2020, the Government announced respondents’ new execution dates. Four days later, respondents
filed a joint motion for a preliminary injunction on their remaining claims and filed a motion for expedited discovery
the following day. The parties submitted hundreds of pages
of briefing and exhibits over two weeks. The District Court
decided this record-heavy motion within two weeks, and
during a time when two sister courts independently stayed
two of the executions. The District Court evaluated respondents’ Eighth Amendment challenge and stayed their
executions to permit full consideration by the District Court
and the Court of Appeals of their claims. The Court of Appeals denied the Government’s motion for a stay, noting
that respondents’ claims involve “novel and difficult constitutional questions” that require the benefit of “further factual and legal development.” The court sua sponte set an
expedited briefing schedule to resolve the appeal. Mere
hours later, however, this Court now grants the Government’s last-minute application to vacate the stay, allowing
death-sentenced inmates to be executed before any court
can properly consider whether their executions are unconstitutionally cruel and unusual. 

II

That outcome is hard to square with this Court’s denial
of a similar request by the Government seven months ago
in this very litigation. See Barr v. Roane, 589 U. S. ___
(2019). That order prohibited the Government to proceed
with executions before the Court of Appeals could address
respondents’ different, but equally serious statutory challenge to the federal execution protocol. And in a separate
statement, three Members of this Court contemplated that
respondents here would not be executed before “the merits
of their Administrative Procedure Act [APA] claim [are] adjudicated.” Id., at ___ (statement of ALITO, J., respecting
denial of stay or vacatur) (slip op., at 2). They maintained
that “in light of what is at stake, it would be preferable for
the District Court’s decision to be reviewed on the merits by
the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit
before the executions are carried out.” Ibid.
These statements now ring hollow. By overriding the
lower court’s stay, this Court forecloses any review of respondents’ APA claims and bypasses the appellate court’s
review of a novel challenge to the federal execution protocol.
It does so despite the fact that, whatever may have been
true on the records presented in previous cases, see, e.g.,
Zagorski v. Parker, 586 U. S. ___ (2018), the parties here
introduced conflicting expert evidence about the likelihood
that pentobarbital causes pain and suffering before rendering a person insensate, which no factfinder has adjudicated.

III

Once again, the Court has chosen to grant an emergency
application from the Government for extraordinary relief.
Wolf v. Cook County, 589 U. S. ___, ___ (2020) (SOTOMAYOR,
J., dissenting from grant of stay) (slip op., at 5). The dangers of that practice are particularly severe here, where the
grant of the Government’s emergency application inflicts
the most irreparable of harms without the deliberation such 
an action warrants. See id., at ___ (slip op., at 6) (entertaining last-minute stay applications from the Government
“upend[s] the normal appellate process” and “force[s] the
Court to consider important statutory and constitutional
questions that have not been ventilated fully in the lower
courts, on abbreviated timetables and without oral argument”).


* * *


Today’s decision illustrates just how grave the consequences of such accelerated decisionmaking can be. The
Court forever deprives respondents of their ability to press
a constitutional challenge to their lethal injections, and prevents lower courts from reviewing that challenge. All of
that is at sharp odds with this Court’s own ruling mere
months earlier. In its hurry to resolve the Government’s
emergency motions, I fear the Court has overlooked not
only its prior ruling, but also its role in safeguarding robust
federal judicial review. I respectfully dissent.

4.3.3 Roane et al. v. Barr, no. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Nov. 19, 2019) 4.3.3 Roane et al. v. Barr, no. 19-mc-145 (D.D.C. Nov. 19, 2019)

Opinion [Link]

In the Matter of the 
Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Execution 
Protocol Cases, 

LEAD CASE: Roane et al. v. Barr 


THIS DOCUMENT RELATES TO: 

Bourgeois v. U.S. Dep’t of Justice, et al., 
12-cv-0782

Lee v. Barr, 19-cv-2559


Purkey v. Barr, et al., 19-cv-03214

 

MEMORANDUM OPINION


On July 25th of this year, the U.S. Department of Justice (“DOJ”) announced plans to
execute five people. See Press Release, Dep’t of Justice, Federal Government to Resume Capital
Punishment After Nearly Two Decade Lapse (July 25, 2019), https://www.justice.gov/opa/
pr/federal-government-resume-capital-punishment-after-nearly-two-decade-lapse. The DOJ
intends to execute Daniel Lewis Lee on December 9, 2019; Lezmond Mitchell on December 11,
2019; Wesley Ira Purkey on December 13, 2019; Alfred Bourgeois on January 13, 2020; and
Dustin Lee Honken on January 15, 2020. Id. To implement these executions, the Federal
Bureau of Prisons (“BOP”) adopted a new execution protocol: the “2019 Protocol.” Id; (ECF No.
39-1 (“Administrative R.”) at 1021–1075).
Four of the five individuals with execution dates1 (collectively, “Plaintiffs”), have filed
complaints against the DOJ and BOP (collectively, “Defendants”), alleging that the 2019
 1 Mitchell has not filed a complaint in this court.


Protocol is unlawful and unconstitutional on numerous grounds.2 See Purkey v. Barr, 19-cv03214 (D.D.C.), Doc. # 1 (Oct. 25, 2019); Lee v. Barr, 1:19-cv-02559 (D.D.C.), Doc. #1 (Aug.
23, 2019); Bourgeois v. U.S. Dep’t of Justice, et al., 1:12-cv-00782 (D.D.C.), Doc. # 1 (May 5,
2012); ECF. No. 38 (“Honken Compl.”). The court consolidated the cases and ordered Plaintiffs
to complete the necessary 30(b)(6) depositions on or before February 29, 2020 and to amend
their complaints on or before March 31, 2020. (See ECF No. 1 (“Consolidation Order”); Min.
Entry, Aug. 15, 2019.) Because Plaintiffs are scheduled to be executed before their claims can
be fully litigated, they have asked this court, pursuant to Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 65 and
Local Rule 65.1, to preliminarily enjoin the DOJ and BOP from executing them while they
litigate their claims. (ECF No. 34 (“Purkey Mot. for Prelim. Inj.”); ECF No. 29 (“Honken Mot.
for Prelim. Inj.”); ECF No. 13 (“Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj.”); ECF No. 2 (“Bourgeois Mot. for
Prelim. Inj.”)) Having reviewed the parties’ filings, the record, and the relevant case law, and for
the reasons set forth below, the court hereby GRANTS Plaintiffs’ Motions for Preliminary
Injunction.


I. BACKGROUND


Beginning in 1937, Congress required federal executions to be conducted in the manner
prescribed by the state of conviction. See 50 Stat. § 304 (former 18 U.S.C. 542 (1937)),
recodified as 62 Stat. § 837 (former 18 U.S.C. 3566). After the Supreme Court instituted a de

2 Bourgeois’ complaint was filed in 2012 and relates to a separate execution protocol. See
Bourgeois v. U.S. Dep’t of Justice, et al., 1:12-cv-00782 (D.D.C.), Doc. # 1 (May 5, 2012). In
addition, his Motion for Preliminary Injunction (ECF. No. 2 (“Bourgeois Mot. for Prelim. Inj.”))
does not articulate his bases for a preliminary injunction, but instead argues that a preliminary
injunction is warranted because the plaintiffs in the Roane litigation were granted a preliminary
injunction. Despite the shortcomings of Bourgeois’ briefing, this court has determined that he
meets the requirements of a preliminary injunction, as do the three other plaintiffs in the
consolidated case, whose motions are fully briefed.

facto moratorium on the death penalty in Furman v. Georgia, 408 U.S. 238, 239–40 (1972), and
then lifted it in Gregg v. Georgia, 428 U.S. 153, 187 (1976), Congress reinstated the death
penalty for certain federal crimes but did not specify a procedure for implementation. See AntiDrug Abuse Act of 1988, Pub. L. 100–690, § 7001, 102 Stat. 4181 (enacted Nov. 18, 1988).
Four years later, under the direction of then-Attorney General William Barr, the DOJ published a
proposed rule to establish a procedure for implementing executions. Implementation of Death
Sentences in Federal Cases, 57 Fed. Reg. 56536 (proposed Nov. 30, 1992). The proposed rule
noted that the repeal of the 1937 statute “left a need for procedures for obtaining and executing
death orders.” Id. The final rule, issued in 1993, provided a uniform method and place of
execution. See 58 Fed. Reg. 4898 (1993), codified at 28 C.F.R. pt. 26 (setting method of
execution as “intravenous injection of a lethal substance.”)
But a year later, Congress reinstated the traditional approach of following state practices
through passage of the Federal Death Penalty Act (“FDPA”). See Pub. L. No. 103–322, 108
Stat. 1796 (1994), codified at 18 U.S.C. §§ 3591–3599. The FDPA establishes that the U.S.
Marshal “shall supervise implementation of the sentence in the manner prescribed by the law of
the State in which the sentence is imposed.” Id. § 3596(a). The FDPA provides no exceptions to
this rule and does not contemplate the establishment of a separate federal execution procedure.
Plaintiffs’ cases are governed by the FDPA because when the death penalty portions of the
ADAA were repealed in 2006, the FDPA was “effectively render[ed] . . . applicable to all federal
death-eligible offenses.” United States v. Barrett, 496 F.3d 1079, 1106 (10th Cir. 2007).
Given the conflict between the FDPA’s state-by-state approach and the uniform federal
approach adopted by DOJ’s 1993 rule (28 C.F.R. pt. 26), the DOJ and BOP supported proposed
legislation to amend the FDPA to allow them to carry out executions under their own procedures.

One bill, for example, would have amended § 3596(a) to provide that the death sentence “shall
be implemented pursuant to regulations prescribed by the Attorney General.” H.R. 2359, 104th
Cong. § 1 (1995). In his written testimony supporting the bill, Assistant Attorney General
Andrew Fois wrote that “H.R. 2359 would allow Federal executions to be carried out . . .
pursuant to uniform Federal regulations” and that “amending 18 U.S.C. § 3596 [would] allow for
the implementation of Federal death sentences pursuant to Federal regulations promulgated by
the Attorney General.” Written Testimony on H.R. 2359 Before the Subcomm. on Crime of the
H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 104th Cong. 1 (1995) (Statement of Andrew Fois, Assistant Att’y
Gen. of the United States). None of the proposed amendments were enacted, and the FDPA
continues to require the federal government to carry out executions in the manner prescribed by
the states of conviction.
In 2005, three individuals facing death sentences sued, alleging that their executions were
to be administered under an unlawful and unconstitutional execution protocol. Roane v.
Gonzales, 1:05-cv-02337 (D.D.C.), Doc. #1 ¶ 2. The court preliminarily enjoined their
executions. Roane, Doc. #5. Three other individuals on death row intervened, and the court
enjoined their executions. See Roane, Doc. #23, 27, 36, 38, 67, 68. A seventh individual on
death row subsequently intervened and had his execution enjoined as well. See id. Doc. #333.
During this litigation, the government produced a 50-page document (“2004 Main Protocol”)
outlining BOP execution procedures. Roane, Doc. #179–3. The 2004 Main Protocol cites 28
C.F.R. pt. 26 for authority and does not mention the FDPA. See id. at 1. The government then
produced two three-page addenda to the 2004 Main Protocol. See Roane, Doc. #177-1
(Addendum to Protocol, Aug. 1, 2008) (the “2008 Addendum”); Roane, Doc. #177-3
(Addendum to Protocol, July 1, 2007) (“2007 Addendum”). In 2011 the DOJ announced that the

BOP did not have the drugs needed to implement the 2008 Addendum. See Letter from Office of
Attorney General to National Association of Attorneys General, (Mar. 4, 2011),
https://files.deathpenaltyinfo.org/legacy/documents/2011.03.04.Holder.Letter.pdf. The
government told the court that the BOP “has decided to modify its lethal injection protocol but
the protocol revisions have not yet been finalized.” Roane, Doc. #288 at 2. In response, the
court stayed the Roane litigation.
No further action was taken in the cases for seven years, until July of this year, when
DOJ announced a new addendum to the execution protocol (“2019 Addendum”) (Administrative
R. at 870–871), that replaces the three-drug protocol of the 2008 Addendum with a single drug:
pentobarbital sodium. See id at ¶ C. In addition to the 2019 Addendum, the BOP adopted a new
protocol to replace the 2004 Main Protocol (the 2019 Main Protocol). (Administrative R. at
1021–1075.)
The court held a status conference in the Roane action on August 15, 2019. (See Min.
Entry, Aug. 15, 2019). In addition to the Roane plaintiffs, the court heard from counsel for three
other death-row inmates, including Bourgeois, all of whom cited the need for additional
discovery on the new protocol. (See ECF No. 12 (“Status Hr’g Tr.”)). The government
indicated that it was unwilling to stay the executions, and the court bifurcated discovery and
ordered Plaintiffs to complete 30(b)(6) depositions by February 28, 2020 and to file amended
complaints by March 31, 2020. (See Min. Entry, Aug. 15, 2019.)
Lee filed a complaint challenging the 2019 Addendum on August 23, 2019 (see Lee v.
Barr, 1:19-cv-02559 (D.D.C.), Doc. 1), and a motion for a preliminary injunction on September
27, 2019, (Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj.). On August 29, 2019 Bourgeois moved to preliminarily
enjoin his execution. (Bourgeois Mot. for Prelim. Inj.) Honken filed an unopposed motion to

intervene in Lee v. Barr, which was granted. (ECF No. 26. (“Honken Mot. to Intervene”).) He
then filed a motion for a preliminary injunction on November 5, 2019. (Honken Mot. for Prelim.
Inj.) Purkey filed a complaint and a motion for preliminary injunction under a separate case
number, 1:19-cv-03214, which was consolidated with Roane. Thus, the court now has before it
four fully briefed motions to preliminarily enjoin the DOJ and BOP from executing Lee, Purkey,
Bourgeois, and Honken.


II. ANALYSIS


A preliminary injunction is an “extraordinary remedy” that is “never awarded as of
right.” Winter v. Nat. Res. Def. Council, Inc., 555 U.S. 7, 24 (2008) (citing Munaf v. Geren, 553
U.S. 674, 689–90 (2008)). Courts consider four factors on a motion for a preliminary injunction:
(1) the likelihood of plaintiff’s success on the merits, (2) the threat of irreparable harm to the
plaintiff absent an injunction, (3) the balance of equities, and (4) the public interest. Id. at 20
(citations omitted); John Doe Co. v. Consumer Fin. Prot. Bureau, 849 F.3d 1129, 1131 (D.C.
Cir. 2017). The D.C. Circuit has traditionally evaluated claims for injunctive relief on a sliding
scale, such that “a strong showing on one factor could make up for a weaker showing on
another.” Sherley v. Sebelius, 644 F.3d 388, 392 (D.C. Cir. 2011). It has been suggested,
however, that a movant’s showing regarding success on the merits “is an independent, freestanding requirement for a preliminary injunction.” Id. at 393 (quoting Davis v. Pension Ben.
Guar. Corp., 571 F.3d 1288, 1296 (D.C. Cir. 2009) (Kavanaugh, J., concurring)). Here,
Plaintiffs’ claims independently satisfy the merits requirement.
A. Likelihood of Success on the Merits
Plaintiffs allege, inter alia, that the 2019 Protocol exceeds statutory authority and
therefore under the Administrative Procedure Act (“APA”), it must be set aside. Under the APA,

a reviewing court “shall . . . hold unlawful and set aside agency action, findings, and conclusions
found to be . . . in excess of statutory jurisdiction, authority, or limitations, or short of statutory
right.” 5 U.S.C. § 706(2)(C). Plaintiffs argue that the 2019 Protocol exceeds statutory authority
by establishing a single procedure for all federal executions rather than using the FDPA’s stateprescribed procedure. (Purkey Mot. for Prelim. Inj. at 16; Honken Mot. for Prelim. Inj. at 34–35;
Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj. at 5–6, 17). Given that the FDPA expressly requires the federal
government to implement executions in the manner prescribed by the state of conviction, this
court finds Plaintiffs have shown a likelihood of success on the merits as to this claim.
Defendants argue that the 2019 Protocol “is not contrary to the FDPA” because the
authority given to DOJ and BOP through § 3596(a) of the FDPA “necessarily includes the
authority to specify . . . procedures for carrying out the death sentence.” (ECF No. 16 (“Defs.
Mot. in Opp. To Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj.”) at 34.) Section 3596(a) states:
When the [death] sentence is to be implemented, the Attorney
General shall release the person sentenced to death to the custody of
a United States marshal, who shall supervise implementation of the
sentence in the manner prescribed by the law of the State in which
the sentence is imposed. If the law of the State does not provide for
implementation of a sentence of death, the court shall designate
another State, the law of which does provide for the implementation
of a sentence of death, and the sentence shall be implemented in the
latter State in the manner prescribed by such law.
18 U.S.C. § 3596(a) (emphasis added). Because a United States Marshal is to
“supervise” the process, it does appear that at least some authority is granted to the Marshal. But
it goes too far to say that such authority necessarily includes the authority to decide procedures
without reference to state policy. The statute expressly provides that “the implementation of the
sentence” shall be done “in the manner” prescribed by state law. Id. Thus, as between states and
federal agencies, the FDPA gives decision-making authority regarding “implementation” to the

former. Accordingly, the 2019 Protocol’s uniform procedure approach very likely exceeds the
authority provided by the FDPA.
Defendants contest the meaning of the words “implementation” and “manner.” As they
interpret § 3596(a), Congress only gave the states the authority to decide the “method” of
execution, e.g., whether to use lethal injection or an alternative, not the authority to decide
additional procedural details such as the substance to be injected or the safeguards taken during
the injection. The court finds this reading implausible. First, the statute does not refer to the
“method” of execution, a word with particular meaning in the death penalty context. See id.
Instead, it requires that the “implementation” of a death sentence be done in the “manner”
prescribed by the state of conviction. Id. “Manner” means “a mode of procedure or way of
acting.” Manner, MERRIAM-WEBSTER’S COLLEGIATE DICTIONARY 756 (11th ed. 2014.) The
statute’s use of the word “manner” thus includes not just execution method but also execution
procedure. To adopt Defendants’ interpretation of “manner” would ignore its plain meaning. As
one district court concluded, “the implementation of the death sentence [under the FDPA]
involves a process which includes more than just the method of execution utilized.” United
States v. Hammer, 121 F. Supp. 2d 794, 798 (M.D. Pa. 2000). 3
 3 Defendants cite three cases to suggest that “manner” means “method”: Higgs v. United States,
711 F. Supp. 2d 479, 556 (D. Md. 2010); United States v. Bourgeois, 423 F.3d 501 (5th Cir.
2005); and United States v. Fell, No. 5:0-cr-12-01, 2018 WL 7270622 (D. Vt. Aug. 7 2018).
Higgs interpreted the FDPA to require the federal government to follow a state’s chosen method
of execution but not to follow any other state procedure. 711 F. Supp. 2d at 556. This
interpretation, however, was stated in dicta and is not supported by persuasive reasoning. Id.
Bourgeois did not reach the question of what the words “implementation” and “manner” mean in
18 U.S.C. § 3596(a). 423 F.3d 501 (5th Cir. 2005). Instead, it evaluated only whether the
sentence violated Texas law. Id. at 509. The opinion appeared to assume that § 3596(a) only
requires the federal government to follow the state-prescribed method of execution, but it
provided no basis for that assumption. Id.at 509. In Fell, the district court held that the creation
of a federal death chamber does not violate the FDPA. Fell, slip op., at 4. This holding affirms
the notion that the federal government has some authority in execution procedure (such as the

Moreover, legislative efforts to amend the FDPA further support this court’s
interpretation of the terms “manner” and “implementation.” As noted above, in 1995, the year
after the FDPA became law, the DOJ supported bills amending the statute to allow the DOJ and
BOP to create a uniform method of execution, indicating that the FDPA as drafted did not permit
federal authorities to establish a uniform procedure. The amendments were never enacted.
Defendants argue that reading the FDPA as requiring adherence to more than the state’s
prescribed method of execution leads to absurd results. (See, e.g., Defs. Mot. in Opp. to Purkey
Mot. for Prelim. Inj. at 28.) They contend that if the state’s choice of drug is to be followed, the
federal government would have to “stock all possible lethal agents used by the States.” Id. But
the FDPA contemplates and provides for this very situation: it permits the United States Marshal
to allow the assistance of a state or local official and to use state and local facilities. 18 U.S.C.
§ 3596(a). Moreover, the practice of following state procedure and using state facilities has a
long history in the United States. Before the modern death penalty, the relevant statute provided
that the:
manner of inflicting the punishment of death shall be the manner
prescribed by the laws of the State within which the sentence is
imposed. The United States marshal charged with the execution of
the sentence may use available State or local facilities and the
services of an appropriate State or local official . . .
50 Stat. § 304 (former 18 U.S.C. 542 (1937)), recodified as 62 Stat. § 837 (former 18 U.S.C.
3566) (1948). The federal government carried out executions in accordance with this statute for
decades, including those of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg in New York’s Sing Sing prison, and
Victor Feguer in the Iowa State Penitentiary. See Feguer v. United States, 302 F.2d 214, 216

place of execution), but it does not conflict with the proposition that the FDPA requires the
federal government to follow state procedure as to more than simply the method of execution.

(8th Cir. 1962) (noting sentence of death by hanging imposed pursuant to § 3566 and Iowa law);
Rosenberg v. Carroll, 99 F. Supp. 630, 632 (S.D.N.Y. 1951) (applying § 3566 to uphold state
law confinement prior to execution). Thus, far from creating absurd results, requiring the federal
government to follow more than just the state’s method of execution is consistent with other
sections of the statute and with historical practices. For all these reasons, this court finds that the
FDPA does not authorize the creation of a single implementation procedure for federal
executions.
Defendants argue that the 2019 Protocol derives authority from 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a),
which provides that executions are to be carried out at the time and place designated by the
Director of the BOP, at a federal penal or correctional institution, and by injection of a lethal
substance or substances under the direction of the U.S. Marshal. (Defs. Mot. in Opp. to Lee Mot.
for Prelim. Inj. at 31.) However, this argument is undercut by the fact that, as with the 2019
Protocol itself, 28 C.F.R. Pt. 26 also conflicts with the FDPA. As noted above, 28 C.F.R. Pt. 26
was promulgated in 1993 (before the FDPA was enacted) to implement the Anti-Drug Abuse Act
of 1988, 21 U.S.C. § 848(e) (the “ADAA”), which does not specify how federal executions are
to be carried out. 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a) filled that gap by providing an implementation procedure.
But when Congress passed its own requirements for the implementation procedure in the FDPA,
those requirements conflicted with 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a).
Defendants concede that “where a regulation contradicts a statute, the latter prevails.”
(Defs. Mot. in Opp. to Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj. at 31.) They argue instead that the regulation
does not conflict with the FDPA as applied to Plaintiffs because lethal injection (the method
required by 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a)(4)) is either permitted or required in the Plaintiffs’ states of

conviction (Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, and Indiana4
). (ECF No. 37 (“Defs. Mot. in Opp. to
Purkey Mot. for Prelim. Inj.”) at 26–27; ECF No. 36 (“Defs. Mot. in Opp. to Honken Mot. for
Prelim. Inj.”) at 19–20; Defs. Mot. in Opp. to Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj at 31–32.)5 Two of those
states—Texas and Missouri—use a single dose of pentobarbital for executions. (Administrative
R. at 99, 104.)
But this overlap does not, in and of itself, reconcile 28 C.F.R. pt. 26 with the FDPA. 28
C.F.R. Pt. 26 remains inconsistent with the FDPA because it establishes a single federal
procedure, while the FDPA requires state-prescribed procedures. In addition, 28 C.F.R. §
26.3(a)(2) requires use of a federal facility, while the FDPA permits the use of state facilities.
Compare 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a)(2) with 18 U.S.C. § 3597. There are also inconsistencies between
the FDPA’s required state procedures and the 2019 Protocol. For example, states of conviction
establish specific and varied safeguards on how the intravenous catheter is to be inserted.6
 The
2019 Protocol, however, provides only that the method for insertion of the IV is to be selected
based on the training, experience, or recommendation of execution personnel. (Administrative
R. at 872.) Thus, the fact that the states of conviction and 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a) all prescribe lethal
injection as the method of execution is not enough to establish that the regulation is valid as
applied to Plaintiffs.
 4 Honken was convicted in Iowa, which does not have a death penalty. The FDPA requires a
court to designate a death penalty state for any individual convicted in a state without the death
penalty, and the court designated Indiana. (Honken Mot. for Prelim. Inj. at 37.)
5 Defendants do not assert this argument as to Bourgeois (likely because he did not raise 28
C.F.R. Part 26 in his motions), but does include Texas’ execution protocol—which requires
lethal injection—in the Administrative Record. (Administrative R. at 83-91.)
6 See, e.g., Administrative R. at 90-91 (Texas); Administrative R. at 70-71 (Missouri); Honken
Mot. for Prelim. Inj. Ex. 6 at 16–17 (Indiana).

Defendants further argue that even if 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a) did not conflict with the FDPA
by requiring lethal injection, the DOJ would still adopt lethal injection as its method of execution
for these Plaintiffs. (See e.g., Defs. Mot. in Opp. to Lee Mot. for Prelim. Inj at 32–33.) On this
basis, they ask the court to sever section 26.3(a)(4)—which establishes lethal injection as the
federal method—and affirm the rest of 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a). Id. Defendants cite Am. Petroleum
Inst. V. EPA, 862 F.3d 50 (D.C. Cir. 2017), for the proposition that the court “will sever and
affirm a portion of an administrative regulation” if it can say “without any substantial doubt that
the agency would have adopted the severed portion on its own.” Id. at 71 (emphasis added). The
court declines to take this approach for several reasons. First, it is premised on the strained
reading of the FDPA that this court has already rejected. Moreover, the court cannot say
“without any substantial doubt” that DOJ “would have adopted the severed portion on its own.”
Id. Even were the court to engage in such speculation, it seems plausible that if 28 C.F.R. §
26.3(a) instructed the BOP to follow state procedure, rather than to implement lethal injection,
that BOP would in fact adopt whatever specific procedures were required by each state. Finally,
even if the court severed the language in 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a) that conflicts with the FDPA,
another problem would arise: that is the very language that purportedly authorizes the creation of
a single federal procedure. If the court severs it, then 28 C.F.R. § 26.3(a) would no longer
contain the support for a single federal procedure that Defendants claim it does.
More importantly, Defendants’ arguments regarding the regulation’s applicability to
these Plaintiffs take us far afield from the task at hand. The arguments do not control the court’s
inquiry of whether the 2019 Protocol exceeds statutory authority. Based on the reasoning set
forth above, this court finds that insofar as the 2019 Protocol creates a single implementation
procedure it is not authorized by the FDPA. This court further finds that because 28 C.F.R. §

26.3 directly conflicts with the FDPA, it does not provide the necessary authority for the 2019
Protocol’s uniform procedure. There is no statute that gives the BOP or DOJ the authority to
establish a single implementation procedure for all federal executions. To the contrary,
Congress, through the FDPA, expressly reserved those decisions for the states of conviction.
Thus, Plaintiffs have established a likelihood of success on the merits of their claim that the 2019
Protocol exceeds statutory authority. Given this finding, the court need not reach Plaintiffs’
other claims.
B. Irreparable Harm
To constitute irreparable harm, “the harm must be certain and great, actual and not
theoretical, and so imminent that there is a clear and present need for equitable relief to prevent
irreparable harm,” and it “must be beyond remediation.” League of Women Voters of U.S. v.
Newby, 838 F. 3d 1, 7–8 (D.C. Cir. 2016) (citing Chaplaincy of Full Gospel Churches v.
England, 454 F.3d 290, 297 (D.C. Cir. 2006)) (internal quotation marks and brackets omitted).
Here, absent a preliminary injunction, Plaintiffs would be unable to pursue their claims,
including the claim that the 2019 Protocol lacks statutory authority, and would therefore be
executed under a procedure that may well be unlawful. This harm is manifestly irreparable.
Other courts in this Circuit have found irreparable harm in similar circumstances. See,
e.g., Damus v. Nielsen, 313 F. Supp. 3d 317, 342 (D.D.C. 2018) (finding irreparable injury where
plaintiffs faced detention under challenged regulations); Stellar IT Sols., Inc. v. U.S.C.I.S., Civ.
A. No. 18-2015 (RC), 2018 WL 6047413, at *11 (D.D.C. Nov. 19, 2018) (finding irreparable
injury where plaintiff would be forced to leave the country under challenged regulations); FBME
Bank Ltd. v. Lew, 125 F. Supp. 3d 109, 126–27 (D.D.C. 2015) (finding irreparable injury where
challenged regulations would threaten company’s existence); N. Mariana Islands v. United

States, 686 F. Supp. 2d 7, 19 (D.D.C. 2009) (finding irreparable injury when challenged
regulations would limit guest workers).
Plaintiffs have clearly shown that, absent injunctive relief, they will suffer the irreparable
harm of being executed under a potentially unlawful procedure before their claims can be fully
adjudicated. Given this showing, the court need not reach the various other irreparable harms
that Plaintiffs allege.
C. Balance of Equities
Defendants assert that if the court preliminarily enjoins the 2019 Protocol they will suffer
the harm of a delayed execution date. (See, e.g., Def. Mot. in Opp. to Purkey Mot. for Prelim.
Inj. at 43.) While the government does have a legitimate interest in the finality of criminal
proceedings, the eight years that it waited to establish a new protocol undermines its arguments
regarding the urgency and weight of that interest. Other courts have found “little potential for
injury” as a result of a delayed execution date. See, e.g., Harris v. Johnson, 323 F. Supp. 2d 797,
809 (S.D. Tex. 2004). This court agrees that the potential harm to the government caused by a
delayed execution is not substantial.
D. Public Interest
The public interest is not served by executing individuals before they have had the
opportunity to avail themselves of legitimate procedures to challenge the legality of their
executions. On the other hand, “[t]he public interest is served when administrative agencies
comply with their obligations under the APA.” N. Mariana Islands, 686 F. Supp. 2d at 21.
Accordingly, this court finds that the public interest is served by preliminarily enjoining the
execution of the four Plaintiffs because it will allow them to determine whether administrative
agencies acted within their delegated authority, and to ensure that they do so in the future.


III. CONCLUSION


This court finds that at least one of Plaintiffs’ claims has a likelihood of success on the
merits and that absent a preliminary injunction, they will suffer irreparable harm. It further finds
that the likely harm that Plaintiffs would suffer if this court does not grant injunctive relief far
outweighs any potential harm to the Defendants. Finally, because the public is not served by
short-circuiting legitimate judicial process, and is greatly served by attempting to ensure that the
most serious punishment is imposed lawfully, this court finds that it is in the public interest to
issue a preliminary injunction. Accordingly, each of Plaintiffs’ motions for preliminary
injunctions is hereby GRANTED.

4.3.4 Statute: FDCA (Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act) 4.3.4 Statute: FDCA (Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act)

FDCA (Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act), 21 U.S.C. § 321(g)(1)(C) [Link]

FDCA (Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act), 21 U.S.C. §353(b)(1)(A)–(B) [Link]

4.3.5 Statute: FDPA (Federal Death Penalty Act) 4.3.5 Statute: FDPA (Federal Death Penalty Act)

FDPA (Federal Death Penalty Act), 18 U.S.C. §3596(a) [Link]

29 CFR § 26.3(a) [Link]

g

4.3.6 Required Readings 4.3.6 Required Readings