*462Justice Scalia

delivered the opinion of the Court.

These cases present the following questions: (1) Whether § 109(b)(1) of the Clean Air Act (CAA) delegates legislative power to the Administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). (2) Whether the Administrator may consider the costs of implementation in setting national ambient air quality standards (NAAQS) under § 109(b)(1). (3) Whether the Court of Appeals had jurisdiction to review the EPA’s interpretation of Part D of Title I of the CAA, 42 U. S. C. §§ 7501-7515, with respect to implementing the revised ozone NAAQS. (4) If so, whether the EPA’s interpretation of that part was permissible.

I

. Section 109(a) of the CAA, as added, 84 Stat. 1679, and amended, 42 U. S. C. § 7409(a), requires the Administrator of the EPA to promulgate NAAQS for each air pollutant for which “air quality criteria” have been issued under § 108, 42 U. S. C. § 7408. Once a NAAQS has been promulgated, the Administrator must review the standard (and the criteria *463on which it is based) “at five-year intervals” and make “such revisions ... as may be appropriate.” CAA § 109(d)(1), 42 U. S. C. § 7409(d)(1). These cases arose when, on July 18, 1997, the Administrator revised the NAAQS for particulate matter and ozone. See NAAQS for Particulate Matter, 62 Fed. Reg. 38652 (codified in 40 CFR §50.7 (1999)); NAAQS for Ozone, id., at 38856 (codified in 40 CFR §§50.9, 50.10 (1999)). American Trucking Associations, Inc., and its corespondents in No. 99-1257 — which include, in addition to other private companies, the States of Michigan, Ohio, and West Virginia — challenged the new standards in the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, pursuant to 42 U. S. C. § 7607(b)(1).

The District of Columbia Circuit accepted some of the challenges and rejected others. It agreed with the No. 99-1257 respondents (hereinafter respondents) that § 109(b)(1) delegated legislative power to the Administrator in contravention of the United States Constitution, Art. I, § 1, because it found that the EPA had interpreted the statute to provide no “intelligible principle” to guide the agency’s exercise of authority. American Trucking Assns., Inc. v. EPA, 175 F. 3d 1027, 1034 (1999). The court thought, however, that the EPA could perhaps avoid the unconstitutional delegation by adopting a restrictive construction of § 109(b)(1), so instead of declaring the section unconstitutional the court remanded the NAAQS to the agency. Id., at 1038. (On this delegation point, Judge Tatel dissented, finding the statute constitutional as written. Id., at 1057.) On the second issue that the Court of Appeals addressed, it unanimously rejected respondents’ argument that the court should depart from the rule of Lead Industries Assn., Inc. v. EPA, 647 F. 2d 1130, 1148 (CADC 1980), that the EPA may not consider the cost of implementing a NAAQS in setting the initial standard. It also rejected respondents’ argument that the implementation provisions for ozone found in Part D, Sub-part 2, of Title I of the CAA, 42 U. S. C. §§ 7511-7511f, were *464so tied to the existing ozone standard that the EPA lacked the power to revise the standard. The court held that although Subpart 2 constrained the agency’s method of implementing the new standard, 175 F. 3d, at 1050, it did not prevent the EPA from revising the standard and designating areas of the country as “nonattainment areas,” see 42 U. S. C. § 7407(d)(1), by reference to it, 175 F. 3d, at 1047-1048. On the EPA’s petition for rehearing, the panel adhered to its position on these points, and unanimously rejected the EPA’s new argument that the court lacked jurisdiction to reach the implementation question because there had been no “final” implementation action. American Trucking Assns., Inc. v. EPA, 195 F. 3d 4 (CADC 1999). The Court of Appeals denied the EPA’s suggestion for rehearing en banc, with five judges dissenting. Id., at 13.

The Administrator and the EPA petitioned this Court for review of the first, third, and fourth questions described in the first paragraph of this opinion. Respondents conditionally cross-petitioned for review of the second question. We granted certiorari on both petitions, 529 U. S. 1129 (2000); 530 U. S. 1202 (2000), and scheduled the cases for argument in tandem. We have now consolidated the cases for purposes of decision.

II

In Lead Industries Assn., Inc. v. EPA, supra, at 1148, the District of Columbia Circuit held that “economic considerations [may] play no part in the promulgation of ambient air quality standards under Section 109” of the CAA. In the present cases, the court adhered to that holding, 175 F. 3d, at 1040-1041, as it had done on many other occasions. See, e. g., American Lung Assn. v. EPA, 134 F. 3d 388, 389 (1998); NRDC v. Administrator, EPA, 902 F. 2d 962, 973 (1990), vacated in part on other grounds, NRDC v. EPA, 921 F. 2d 326 (CADC 1991); American Petroleum Institute v. Costle, 665 F. 2d 1176, 1185 (1981). Respondents argue that these *465decisions are incorrect. We disagree; and since the first step in assessing whether a statute delegates legislative power is to determine what authority the statute confers, we address that issue of interpretation first and reach respondents’ constitutional arguments in Part III, infra.

Section 109(b)(1) instructs the EPA to set primary ambient air quality standards “the attainment and maintenance of which ... are requisite to protect the public health” with “an adequate margin of safety.” 42 U. S. C. § 7409(b)(1). Were it not for the hundreds of pages of briefing respondents have submitted on the issue, one would have thought it fairly clear that this text does not permit the EPA to consider costs in setting the standards. The language, as one scholar has noted, “is absolute.” D. Currie, Air Pollution: Federal Law and Analysis 4-15 (1981). The EPA, “based on” the information about health effects contained in the technical “criteria” documents compiled under § 108(a)(2), 42 U. S. C. § 7408(a)(2), is to identify the maximum airborne concentration of a pollutant that the public health can tolerate, decrease the concentration to provide an “adequate” margin of safety, and set the standard at that level. Nowhere are the costs of achieving such a standard made part of that initial calculation.

Against this most natural of readings, respondents make a lengthy, spirited, but ultimately unsuccessful attack. They begin with the object of § 109(b)(l)’s focus, the “public health.” When the term first appeared in federal clean air legislation — in the Act of July 14, 1955 (1955 Act), 69 Stat. 322, which expressed “recognition of the dangers to the public health” from air pollution — its ordinary meaning was “[t]he health of the community.” Webster’s New International Dictionary 2005 (2d ed. 1950). Respondents argue, however, that § 109(b)(1), as added by the Clean Air Amendments of 1970,84 Stat. 1676, meant to use the term’s secondary meaning: “[t]he ways and means of conserving the health *466of the members of a community, as by preventive medicine, organized care of the sick, etc.” Ibid. Words that can have more than one meaning are given content, however, by their surroundings, FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 529 U. S. 120, 182-183 (2000); Jones v. United States, 527 U. S. 373, 389 (1999), and in the context of § 109(b)(1) this second definition makes no sense. Congress could not have meant to instruct the Administrator to set NAAQS at a level “requisite to protect” “the art and science dealing with the protection and improvement of community health.” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 1836 (1981). We therefore revert to the primary definition of the term: the health of the public.

Even so, respondents argue, many more factors than air pollution affect public health. In particular, the economic cost of implementing a very stringent standard might produce health losses sufficient to offset the health gains achieved in cleaning the air — for example, by closing down whole industries and thereby impoverishing the workers and consumers dependent upon those industries. That is unquestionably true, and Congress was unquestionably aware of it. Thus, Congress had commissioned in the Air Quality Act of 1967 (1967 Act) “a detailed estimate of the cost of carrying out the provisions of this Act; a comprehensive study of the cost of program implementation by affected units of government; and a comprehensive study of the economic impact of air quality standards on the Nations industries, communities, and other contributing sources of pollution.” §2, 81 Stat. 505. The 1970 Congress, armed with the results of this study, see The Cost of Clean Air, S. Doc. No. 91-40 (1969) (publishing the results of the study), not only anticipated that compliance costs could injure the public health, but provided for that precise exigency. Section 110(f)(1) of the CAA permitted the Administrator to waive the compliance deadline for stationary sources if, inter *467alia, sufficient control measures were simply unavailable and “the continued operation of such sources is essential... to the public health or welfare.” 84 Stat. 1683 (emphasis added). Other provisions explicitly permitted or required economic costs to be taken into account in implementing the air quality standards. Section 111(b)(1)(B), for example, commanded the Administrator to set “standards of performance” for certain new sources of emissions that as specified in § 111(a)(1) were to “reflec[t] the degree of emission limitation achievable through the application of the best system of emission reduction which (taking into account the cost of achieving such reduction) the Administrator determines has been adequately demonstrated.” Section 202(a)(2) prescribed that emissions standards for automobiles could take effect only “after such period as the Administrator finds necessary to permit the development and application of the requisite technology, giving appropriate consideration to the cost of compliance within such period.” 84 Stat. 1690. See also § 202(b)(5)(C) (similar limitation for interim standards); § 211(c)(2) (similar limitation for fuel additives); § 231(b) (similar limitation for implementation of aircraft emission standards). Subsequent amendments to the CAA have added many more provisions directing, in explicit language, that the Administrator consider costs in performing various duties. See, e. g., 42 U. S. C. § 7545(k)(1) (reformulate gasoline to “require the greatest reduction in emissions ... taking into consideration the cost of achieving such emissions reductions”); § 7547(a)(3) (emission reduction for nonroad vehicles to be set “giving appropriate consideration to the cost” of the standards). We have therefore refused to find implicit in ambiguous sections of the CAA an authorization to consider costs that has elsewhere, and so often, been expressly granted. See Union Elec. Co. v. EPA, 427 U. S. 246, 257, and n. 5 (1976). Cf. General Motors Corp. v. United States, 496 U. S. 530, 538, 541 (1990) *468(refusing to infer in certain provisions of the CAA deadlines and enforcement limitations that had been expressly imposed elsewhere).

Accordingly, to prevail in their present challenge, respondents must show a textual commitment of authority to the EPA to consider costs in setting NAAQS under § 109(b)(1). And because § 109(b)(1) and the NAAQS for which it provides are the engine that drives nearly all of Title I of the CAA, 42 U. S. C. §§7401-7515, that textual commitment must be a clear one. Congress, we have held, does not alter the fundamental details of a regulatory scheme in vague terms or ancillary provisions — it does not, one might say, hide elephants in mouseholes. See MCI Telecommunications Corp. v. American Telephone & Telegraph Co., 512 U. S. 218, 231 (1994); FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., supra, at 159-160. Respondents’ textual arguments ultimately founder upon this principle.

Their first claim is that §109(b)(l)’s terms “adequate margin” and “requisite” leave room to pad health effects with cost concerns. Just as we found it “highly unlikely that Congress would leave the determination of whether an industry will be entirely, or even substantially, rate-regulated to agency discretion — and even more unlikely that it would achieve that through such a subtle device as permission to ‘modify’ rate-filing requirements,” MCI Telecommunications Corp. v. American Telephone & Telegraph Co., supra, at 231, so also we find it implausible that Congress would give to the EPA through these modest words the power to determine whether implementation costs should moderate national air quality standards. Accord, Christensen v. Harris County, 529 U. S. 576, 590, n. (2000) (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment) (“The implausibility of Congress’s leaving a highly significant issue unaddressed (and thus ‘delegating’ its resolution to the administering agency) is assuredly one of the factors *469to be considered in determining whether there is ambiguity” (emphasis deleted)).1

The same defect inheres in respondents’ next two arguments: that while the Administrator’s judgment about what is requisite to protect the public health must be “based on [the] criteria” documents developed under § 108(a)(2), see § 109(b)(1), it need not be based solely on those criteria; and that those criteria themselves, while they must include “effects on public health or welfare which may be expected from the presence of such pollutant in the ambient air,” are not necessarily limited to those effects. Even if we were to concede those premises, we still would not conclude' that one of the unenumerated factors that the agency can consider in developing and applying the criteria is cost of implementation. That factor is both so indirectly related to public health and so full of potential for canceling the conclusions drawn from direct health effects that it would surely have been expressly mentioned in §§ 108 and 109 had Congress meant it to be considered. Yet while those provisions describe in detail how the health effects of pollutants in the ambient air are to be calculated and given effect, see § 108(a)(2), they say not a word about costs.

Respondents point, finally, to a number of provisions in the CAA that do require attainment cost data to be generated. Section 108(b)(1), for example, instructs the Administrator to “issue to the States,” simultaneously with the criteria documents, “information on air pollution control techniques, which information shall include data relating to the cost of installation and operation.” 42 U. S. C. § 7408(b)(1). And *470§ 109(d)(2)(C)(iv) requires the Clean Air Scientific Advisory Committee to “advise the Administrator of any adverse public health, welfare, social, economic, or energy effects which may result from various strategies for attainment and maintenance” of NAAQS.2 42 U. S. C. § 7409(d)(2)(C)(iv). Respondents argue that these provisions make no sense unless costs are to be considered in setting the NAAQS. That is not so. These provisions enable the Administrator to assist the States in carrying out their statutory role as primary implementers of the NAAQS. It is to the States that the CAA assigns initial and primary responsibility for deciding what emissions reductions will be required from which sources. See 42 U. S. C. §§ 7407(a), 7410 (giving States the duty of developing implementation plans). It would be impossible to perform that task intelligently without considering which abatement technologies are most efficient, and most economically feasible — which is why we have said that “the most important forum for consideration of claims of economic and technological infeasibility is before the state agency formulating the implementation plan,” Union Elec. Co. v. EPA, 427 U. S., at 266. Thus, federal clean air legislation has, from the very beginning, directed federal agencies to develop and transmit implementation data, including cost data, to the States. See 1955 Act, *471§2(b), 69 Stat. 322; Clean Air Act of 1963, amending §§3(a), (b) of the CAA, 77 Stat. 394; 1967 Act, §§ 103(a)-(d), 104, 107(c), 81 Stat. 486-488. That Congress chose to carry forward this research program to assist States in choosing the means through which they would implement the standards is perfectly sensible, and has no bearing upon whether cost considerations are to be taken into account in formulating the standards.3

It should be clear from what we have said that the canon requiring texts to be so construed as to avoid serious constitutional problems has no application here. No matter how severe the constitutional doubt, courts may choose only between reasonably available interpretations of a text. See, e. g., Miller v. French, 530 U. S. 327, 341 (2000); Pennsylvania Dept. of Corrections v. Yeskey, 524 U. S. 206, 212 (1998). The text of § 109(b), interpreted in its statutory and historical context and with appreciation for its importance to the CAA as a whole, unambiguously bars cost considerations from the NAAQS-setting process, and thus ends the matter for us as well as the EPA.4 We therefore affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals on this point.

*472III

Section 109(b)(1) of the CAA instructs the EPA to set “ambient air quality standards the attainment and maintenance of which in the judgment of the Administrator, based on [the] criteria [documents of § 108] and allowing an adequate margin of safety, are requisite to protect the public health.” 42 U. S. C. § 7409(b)(1). The Court of Appeals held that this section as interpreted by the Administrator did not provide an “intelligible principle” to guide the EPA’s exercise of authority in setting NAAQS. “[The] EPA,” it said, “lack[ed] any determinate criteria for drawing lines. It has failed to state intelligibly how much is too much.” 175 F. 3d, at 1034. The court hence found that the EPA’s interpretation (but not the statute itself) violated the non-delegation doctrine. Id., at 1038. We disagree.

In a delegation challenge, the constitutional question is whether the statute has delegated legislative power to the agency. Article I, § 1, of the Constitution vests “[a]ll legislative Powers herein granted ... in a Congress of the United States.” This text permits no delegation of those powers, Loving v. United States, 517 U. S. 748, 771 (1996); see id., at 776-777 (Scalia, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment), and so we repeatedly have said that when Congress confers decisionmaking authority upon agencies Congress must “lay down by legislative act an intelligible principle to which the person or body authorized to [act] is directed to conform.” J. W. Hampton, Jr., & Co. v. United States, 276 U. S. 394, 409 (1928). We have never suggested that an agency can cure an unlawful delegation of legislative power by adopting in its discretion a limiting construction of the statute. Both Fahey v. Mallonee, 332 U. S. 245, 252-253 (1947), and Lichter v. United States, 334 U. S. 742, 783 (1948), mention agency regulations in the course of their nondelegation discussions, but Lichter did so because a subsequent Congress had incorporated the regulations into a revised version of the statute, ibid., and Fahey because the custom*473ary practices in the area, implicitly incorporated into the statute, were reflected in the regulations, 832 U. S., at 250. The idea that an agency can cure an unconstitutionally stand-ardless delegation of power by declining to exercise some of that power seems to us internally contradictory. The very choice of which portion of the power to exercise — that is to say, the prescription of the standard that Congress had omitted — would itself be an exercise of the forbidden legislative authority. Whether the statute delegates legislative power is a question for the courts, and an agency’s voluntary self-denial has no bearing upon the answer.

We agree with the Solicitor General that the text of § 109(b)(1) of the CAA at a minimum requires that “[flor a discrete set of pollutants and based on published air quality criteria that reflect the latest scientific knowledge, [the] EPA must establish uniform national standards at a level that is requisite to protect public health from the adverse effects of the pollutant in the ambient air.” Tr. of Oral Arg. ih-No. 99-1257, p. 5. Requisite, in turn, “mean[s] sufficient, but not more than necessary.” Id., at 7. These limits on the EPA’s discretion are strikingly similar to the ones we approved in Touby v. United States, 500 U. S. 160 (1991), which permitted the Attorney General to designate a drug as a controlled substance for purposes of criminal drug enforcement if doing so was “ ‘necessary to avoid an imminent hazard to the public safety.’” Id., at 163. They also resemble the Occupational Safety and Health Act of 1970 provision requiring the agency to “ ‘set the standard which most adequately assures, to the extent feasible, on the basis of the best available evidence, that no employee will suffer any impairment of health’ ” — which the Court upheld in Industrial Union Deyt., AFL-GIO v. American Petroleum Institute, 448 U. S. 607, 646 (1980), and which even then-JuSTlCE Rehnquist, who alone in that case thought the statute violated the nondelegation doctrine, see id., at 671 (opinion concurring in judgment), would have upheld if, like the statute *474here, it did not permit economic costs to be considered. See American Textile Mfrs. Institute, Inc. v. Donovan, 452 U. S. 490, 545 (1981) (Rehnquist, J., dissenting).

The scope of discretion § 109(b)(1) allows is in fact well within the outer limits of our nondelegation precedents. In the. history of the Court we have found the requisite “intelligible principle” lacking in only two statutes, one of which provided literally no guidance for the exercise of discretion, and the other of which conferred authority to regulate the entire economy on the basis of no more precise a standard than stimulating the economy by assuring “fair competition.” See Panama Refining Co. v. Ryan, 293 U. S. 388 (1935); A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U. S. 495 (1935). We have, on the other hand, upheld the validity of § 11(b)(2) of the Public Utility Holding Company Act of 1935, 49 Stat. 821, which gave the Securities and Exchange Commission authority to modify the structure of holding company systems so as to ensure that they are not “unduly or unnecessarily complicate^]” and do not “unfairly or inequitably distribute voting power among security holders.” American Power & Light Co. v. SEC, 329 U. S. 90, 104 (1946). We have approved the wartime conferral of agency power to fix the prices of commodities at a level that “ ‘will be generally fair and equitable and will effectuate the [in some respects conflicting] purposes of th[e] Act.’” Yakus v. United States, 321 U. S. 414, 420, 423-426 (1944). And we have found an “intelligible principle” in various statutes authorizing regulation in the “public interest,” See, e. g., National Broadcasting Co. v. United States, 319 U. S. 190, 225-226 (1943) (Federal Communications Commission’s power to regulate airwaves); New York Central Securities Corp. v. United States, 287 U. S. 12, 24-25 (1932) (Interstate Commerce Commission’s power to approve railroad consolidations). In short, we have “almost never felt qualified to second-guess Congress regarding the permissible degree of policy judgment that can be left to those executing or apply*475ing the law.” Mistretta v. United States, 488 U. S. 361, 416 (1989) (Scalia, J., dissenting); see id., at 373 (majority opinion).

It is true enough that the degree of agency discretion that is acceptable varies according to the scope of the power eon-gressionally conferred. See Loving v. United States, 517 U. S., at 772-773; United States v. Mazurie, 419 U. S. 544, 556-557 (1975). While Congress need not provide any direction to the EPA regarding the manner in which it is to define “country elevators,” which are to be exempt from new-stationary-source regulations governing grain elevators, see 42 U. S. C. §7411(i), it must provide substantial guidance on setting air standards that affect the entire national economy. But even in sweeping regulatory schemes we have never demanded, as the Court of Appeals did here, that statutes provide a “determinate criterion” for saying “how much [of the regulated harm] is too much.” 175 F. 3d, at 1034. In Touby, for example, we did not require the statute to decree how “imminent” was too imminent, or how “necessary” was necessary enough, or even — most relevant here — how “hazardous” was too hazardous. 500 U. S., at 165-167. Similarly, the statute at issue in Lichter authorized agencies to recoup “excess profits” paid under wartime Government contracts, yet we did not insist that Congress specify how much profit was too much. 334 U. S., at 783-786. It is therefore not conclusive for delegation purposes that, as respondents argue, ozone and particulate matter are “nonthreshold” pollutants that inflict a continuum of adverse health effects at any airborne concentration greater than zero, and hence require the EPA to make judgments of degree. “[A] certain degree of discretion, and thus of lawmaking, inheres in most executive or judicial action.” Mistretta v. United States, supra, at 417 (Scalia, J., dissenting) (emphasis deleted); see 488 U. S., at 378-379 (majority opinion). Section 109(b)(1) of the CAA, which to repeat we interpret as requiring the EPA to set air quality standards at the level that is “requi*476site” — that is, not lower or higher than is necessary — to protect the public health with an adequate margin of safety, fits comfortably within the scope of discretion permitted by our precedent.

We therefore reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals remanding for reinterpretation that would avoid a supposed delegation of legislative power. It will remain for the Court of Appeals — on the remand that we direct for other reasons — to dispose of any other preserved challenge to the NAAQS under the judicial-review provisions contained in 42 U. S. C. § 7607(d)(9).

IV

The final two issues on which we granted certiorari concern the EPA’s authority to implement the revised ozone NAAQS in areas whose ozone levels currently exceed the maximum level permitted by that standard. The CAA designates such areas “nonattainment,” § 107(d)(1), 42 U. S. C. § 7407(d)(1); see also Pub. L. 105-178, §6103, 112 Stat. 465 (setting timeline for new ozone designations), and it exposes them to additional restrictions over and above the implementation requirements imposed generally by §110 of the CAA. These additional restrictions are found in the five substantive subparts of Part D of Title I, 42 U. S. C. §§7501-7515. Subpart 1, §§7501-7509a, contains general nonattainment regulations that pertain to every pollutant for which a NAAQS exists. Subparts 2 through 5, §§ 7511— 7514a, contain rules tailored to specific individual pollutants. Subpart 2, added by the Clean Air Act Amendments of 1990, §103, 104 Stat. 2423, addresses ozone. 42 U. S. C. §§ 7511— 75111 The dispute before us here, in a nutshell, is whether Subpart 1 alone (as the agency determined), or rather Sub-part 2 or some combination of Subparts 1 and 2, controls the implementation of the revised ozone NAAQS in non-attainment areas.

*477A

The Administrator first urges, however, that we vacate the judgment of the Court of Appeals on this issue because it lacked jurisdiction to review the EPA’s implementation policy. Section 307(b)(1) of the CAA, 42 U. S. C. § 7607(b)(1), gives the court jurisdiction over “any . . . nationally applicable regulations promulgated, or final action taken, by the Administrator,” but the EPA argues that its implementation policy was not agency “action,” was not “final” action, and is not ripe for review. We reject each of these three contentions.

At the same time the EPA proposed the revised ozone NAAQS in 1996, it also proposed an “interim implementation policy” for the NAAQS, see 61 Fed. Reg. 65752 (1996), that was to govern until the details of implementation could be put in final form through specific “rulemaking actions.” The preamble to this proposed policy declared that “the interim implementation policy . . . represent^] EPA’s preliminary views on these issues and, while it may include various statements that States must take certain actions, these statements are made pursuant to EPA’s preliminary interpretations, and thus do not bind the States and public as a matter of law.” Ibid. If the EPA had done no more, we perhaps could accept its current claim that its action was not final. However, after the agency had accepted comments on its proposed policy, and on the same day that the final ozone NAAQS was promulgated, the White House published in the Federal Register what it titled a “Memorandum for the Administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency” that prescribed implementation procedures for the EPA to follow. 62 Fed. Reg. 38421 (1997). (For purposes of our analysis we shall assume that this memorandum was not itself action by the EPA.) The EPA supplemented this memorandum with an explanation of the implementation procedures, which it published in the explanatory preamble to its final ozone *478NAAQS under the heading, “Final decision on the primary standard.” Id., at 38873. “In light of comments received regarding the interpretation proposed in the Interim Implementation Policy,” the EPA announced, it had “reconsidered that interpretation” and settled on a new one. Ibid. The provisions of “subpart 1 of part D of Title I of the Act” will immediately “apply to the implementation of the new 8-hour [ozone] standards.” Ibid.; see also id., at 38885 (new standard to be implemented “simultaneously [with the old standard] . . . under the provisions of . . . subpart 1”). Moreover, the provisions of subpart 2 “will [also] continue to apply as a matter of law for so long as an area is not attaining the [old] 1-hour standard.” Id., at 38873. Once the area reaches attainment for the old standard, however, “the provisions of subpart 2 will have been achieved and those provisions will no longer apply.” Ibid.; see also id., at 38884-38885.

We have little trouble concluding that this constitutes final agency action subject to review under §307. The bite in the phrase “final action” (which bears the same meaning in § 307(b)(1) that it does under the Administrative Procedure Act (APA), 5 U. S. C. § 704, see Harrison v. PPG Industries, Inc., 446 U. S. 578, 586 (1980)), is not in the word “action,” which is meant to cover comprehensively every manner in which an agency may exercise its power. See FTC v. Standard Oil Co. of Cal., 449 U. S. 232, 238, n. 7 (1980). It is rather in the word “final,” which requires that the action under review “mark the consummation of the agency’s de-cisionmaking process.” Bennett v. Spear, 520 U. S. 154, 177-178 (1997). Only if the “EPA has rendered its last word on the matter” in question, Harrison v. PPG Industries, Inc., supra, at 586, is its action “final” and thus reviewable. That standard is satisfied here. The EPA’s “decision-making process,” which began with the 1996 proposal and continued with the reception of public comments, concluded *479when the agency, “in light of [these comments],” and in conjunction with a corresponding directive from the White House, adopted the interpretation of Part D at issue here. Since that interpretation issued, the EPA has refused in subsequent rulemakings to reconsider it, explaining to disappointed commenters that its earlier decision was conclusive. See 63 Fed. Reg. 31014, 31018-31019 (1998). Though the agency has not dressed its decision with the conventional procedural accoutrements of finality, its own behavior thus belies the claim that its interpretation is not final.

The decision is also ripe for our review. “Ripeness ‘requires] us to evaluate both the fitness of the issues for judicial decision and the hardship to the parties of withholding court consideration.’ ” Texas v. United States, 523 U. S. 296, 300-301 (1998) (quoting Abbott Laboratories v. Gardner, 387 U. S. 136, 149 (1967)). The question before us here is purely one of statutory interpretation that would not “benefit from further factual development of the issues presented.” Ohio Forestry Assn., Inc. v. Sierra Club, 523 U. S. 726, 733 (1998). Nor will our review “inappropriately interfere with further administrative action,” ibid., since the EPA has concluded its consideration of the implementation issue. Finally, as for hardship to the parties: The respondent States must — on pain of forfeiting to the EPA control over implementation of the NAAQS — promptly undertake the lengthy and expensive task of developing state implementation plans (SIP’s) that will attain the new, more stringent standard within five years. See 42 U. S. C. §§7410, 7502. Whether or not this would suffice in an ordinary ease brought under the review provisions of the APA, see 5 U. S. C. § 704, we have characterized the special judicial-review provision of the CAA, 42 U. S. C. § 7607(b), as one of those statutes that specifically provides for “preenforcement” review, see Ohio Forestry Assn., Inc. v. Sierra Club, supra, at 737. Such statutes, we have said, permit “judicial review directly, even before the *480concrete effects normally required for APA review are felt.” Lujan v. National Wildlife Federation, 497 U. S. 871, 891 (1990). The effects at issue here surely meet that lower standard.

Beyond all this, the implementation issue was fairly included within the challenges to the final ozone rule that were properly before the Court of Appeals. Respondents argued below that the EPA could not revise the ozone standard, because to do so would trigger the use of Subpart 1, which had been supplanted (for ozone) by the specific rules of Sub-part 2. Brief for Industry Petitioners and Intervenors in No. 97-1441 (and consolidated cases) (CADC), pp. 82-84. The EPA responded that Subpart 2 did not supplant but simply supplemented Subpart 1, so that the latter section still “applies to all nonattainment areas for all NAAQS, . . . including nonattainment areas for any revised ozone standard.” Final Brief for EPA in No. 97-1441 (and consolidated cases) (CADC), pp. 67-68. The agency later reiterated that Subpart 2 “does not supplant implementation provisions for revised ozone standards. This interpretation fully harmonizes Subpart 2 with EPA’s clear authority to revise any NAAQS.” Id., at 71. In other words, the EPA was arguing that the revised standard could be issued, despite its apparent incompatibility with portions of S'ubpart 2, because it would be implemented under Subpart 1 rather than Subpart 2. The District of Columbia Circuit ultimately agreed that Subpart 2 could be harmonized with the EPA’s authority to promulgate revised NAAQS, but not because Subpart 2 is entirely inapplicable — which is one of EPA’s assignments of error. It is unreasonable to contend, as the EPA now does, that the Court of Appeals was obligated to reach the agency’s preferred result, but forbidden to assess the reasons the EPA had given for reaching that result. The implementation issue was fairly included within respondents’ challenge to the ozone rule, which all parties agree is final agency action ripe for review.

*481B

Our approach to the merits of the parties’ dispute is the familiar one of Chevron U. S. A. Inc. v. Natural Resources Defense Council, Inc., 467 U. S. 837 (1984). If the statute resolves the question whether Subpart 1 or Subpart 2 (or some combination of the two) shall apply to revised ozone NAAQS, then “that is the end of the matter.” Id., at 842-843. But if the statute is “silent or ambiguous” with respect to the issue, then we must defer to a “reasonable interpretation made by the administrator of an agency.” Id., at 844. We cannot agree with the Court of Appeals that Sub-part 2 clearly controls the implementation of revised ozone NAAQS, see 175 F. 3d, at 1048-1050, because we find the statute to some extent ambiguous. We conclude, however, that the agency’s interpretation goes beyond the limits of what is ambiguous and contradicts what in our view is quite clear. We therefore hold the implementation policy unlawful. See AT&T Corp. v. low a Utilities Bd., 525 U. S. 366, 392 (1999).

The text of Subpart 1 at first seems to point the way to a clear answer to the question, which Subpart controls? Two sections of Subpart 1, 7502(a)(1)(C) and 7502(a)(2)(D), contain switching provisions stating that if the classification of ozone nonattainment areas is “specifically provided [for] under other provisions of [Part D],” then those provisions will control instead of Subpart l’s. Thus, it is true but incomplete to note, as the Administrator does, that the substantive language of Subpart 1 is broad enough to apply to revised ozone standards. See, e. g., § 7502(a)(1)(A) (instructing the Administrator to classify nonattainment areas according to “any revised standard, including a revision of any standard in effect on November 15, 1990”); § 7502(a)(2)(A) (setting attainment deadlines). To determine whether that language does apply one must resolve the further textual issue whether some other provision, namely Subpart 2, provides for the classification of ozone nonattainment areas. If *482it does, then according to the switching provisions of Sub-part 1 it will control.

So, does Subpart 2 provide for classifying nonattainment ozone areas under the revised standard? It unquestionably does. The backbone of the subpart is Table 1, printed in § 7511(a)(1) and reproduced in the margin here,5 which defines five categories of ozone nonattainment areas and prescribes attainment deadlines for each. Section 7511(a)(1) funnels all nonattainment areas into the table for classification, declaring that “[e]ach area designated nonattainment for ozone . . . shall be classified at the time of such designation, under table 1, by operation of law.” And once an area has been classified, “the primary standard attainment date for ozone shall be as expeditiously as practicable but not later than the date provided in table 1.” The EPA argues that this text is not as clear or comprehensive as it seems, because the title of § 7511(a) reads “Classification and attainment dates for 1989 nonattainment areas,” which suggests that Subpart 2 applies only to areas that were in nonattainment in 1989, and not to areas later designated non-*483attainment under a revised ozone standard. The suggestion must be rejected, however, because § 7511(b)(1) specifically provides for the classification of areas that were in attainment in 1989 but have subsequently slipped into nonattainment. It thus makes clear that Subpart 2 is not limited solely to 1989 nonattainment areas. This eliminates the interpretive role of the title, which may only “she[d] light on some ambiguous word or phrase in the statute itself,” Carter v. United States, 530 U. S. 255, 267 (2000) (internal quotation marks omitted) (quoting Pennsylvania Dept. of Corrections v. Yeskey, 524 U. S., at 212, in turn quoting Trainmen v. Baltimore & Ohio R. Co., 331 U. S. 519, 528-529 (1947)).

It may well be, as the EPA argues — and as the concurring opinion below on denial of rehearing pointed out, see 195 F. 3d, at 11-12 — that some provisions of Subpart 2 are ill fitted to implementation of the revised standard. Using the old 1-hour averages of ozone levels, for example, as Sub-part 2 requires, see § 7511(a)(1); 44 Fed. Reg. 8202 (1979), would produce at best an inexact estimate of the new 8-hour averages, see 40 CFR §50.10, and App. I (1999). Also, to the extent that the new ozone standard is stricter than the old one, see Reply Brief for Petitioners in No. 99-1257, p. 17 (“the stricter 8-hour NAAQS”); 62 Fed. Reg. 38856, 38858 (1997) (8-hour standard of 0.09 ppm rather than 0.08 ppm would have “generally represented] the continuation of the [old] level of protection”), the classification system of Subpart 2 contains a gap, because it fails to classify areas whose ozone levels are greater than the new standard (and thus nonattaining) but less than the approximation of the old standard codified by Table 1. And finally, Subpart 2’s method for calculating attainment dates — which is simply to count forward a certain number of years from November 15, 1990 (the date the 1990 CAA Amendments took force), depending on how far out of attainment the area started — seems to make no sense for areas that are first classified under a new standard after November 15, 1990. *484If, for example, areas were classified in the year 2000, many of the deadlines would already have expired at the time of classification.

These gaps in Subpart 2's scheme prevent us from concluding that Congress clearly intended Subpart 2 to be the exclusive, permanent means of enforcing a revised ozone standard in nonattainment areas. The statute is in our view ambiguous concerning the manner in which Subpart 1 and Subpart 2 interact with regard to revised ozone standards, and we would defer to the EPA’s reasonable resolution of that ambiguity. See FDA v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 529 U. S., at 132; INS v. Aguirre-Aguirre, 526 U. S. 415, 424 (1999). We cannot defer, however, to the interpretation the EPA has given.

Whatever effect may be accorded the gaps in Subpart 2 as implying some limited applicability of Subpart 1, they cannot be thought to render Subpart 2’s carefully designed restrictions on EPA discretion utterly nugatory once a new standard has been promulgated, as the EPA has concluded. The principal distinction between Subpart 1 and Subpart 2 is that the latter eliminates regulatory discretion that the former allowed. While Subpart 1 permits the EPA to establish classifications for nonattainment areas, Subpart 2 classifies areas as a matter of law based on a table. Compare § 7502(a)(1) with § 7511(a)(1) (Table 1). Whereas the EPA has discretion under Subpart 1 to extend attainment dates for as long as 12 years, under Subpart 2 it may grant no more than 2 years’ extension. Compare §§ 7502(a)(2)(A) and (C) with § 7511(a)(5). Whereas Subpart 1 gives the EPA considerable discretion to shape nonattainment programs, Subpart 2 prescribes large parts of them by law. Compare §§ 7502(c) and (d) with § 7511a. Yet according to the EPA, Subpart 2 was simply Congress’s “approach to the implementation of the [old] 1-hour” standard, and so there was no reason that “the new standard could not simultaneously be implemented under . . . subpart 1.” 62 Fed. Reg. *48538856, 38885 (1997); see also id., at 38873 (“[T]he provisions of subpart 1 . . . would apply to the implementation of the new 8-hour ozone standards”). To use a few apparent gaps in Subpart 2 to render its textually explicit applicability to nonattainment areas under the new standard utterly inoperative is to go over the edge of reasonable interpretation. The EPA may not construe the statute in a way that completely nullifies textually applicable provisions meant to limit its discretion.

The EPA’s interpretation making Subpart 2 abruptly obsolete is all the more astonishing because Subpart 2 was obviously written to govern implementation for some time. Some of the elements required to be included in SIP’s under Subpart 2 were not to take effect until many years after the passage of the CAA. See § 7511a(e)(3) (restrictions on “electric utility and industrial and commercial boilerfs]” to be “effective 8 years after November 15,1990”); §7511a(c)(5)(A) (vehicle monitoring program to “[b]egi[n] 6 years after November 15, 1990”); §7511a(g)(l) (emissions milestone requirements to be applied “6 years after November 15, 1990, and at intervals of every 3 years thereafter”). A plan reaching so far into the future was not enacted to be abandoned the next time the EPA reviewed the ozone standard — which Congress knew could happen at any time, since the technical staff papers had already been completed in late 1989. See 58 Fed. Reg. 13008, 13010 (1993); see also 42 U. S. C. § 7409(d)(1) (NAAQS must be reviewed and, if appropriate, revised at least once every five years). Yet nothing in the EPA’s interpretation would have prevented the agency from aborting Subpart 2 the day after it was enacted. Even now, if the EPA’s interpretation were correct, some areas of the country could be required to meet the new, more stringent ozone standard in at most the same time that Sub-part 2 had allowed them to meet the old standard. Compare § 7502(a)(2) (Subpart 1 attainment dates) with § 7511(a) (Sub-part 2 attainment dates). Los Angeles, for instance, “would *486be required to attain the revised NAAQS under Subpart 1 no later than the same year that marks the outer time limit for attaining Subpart 2’s one-hour ozone standard.” Brief for Petitioners in No. 99-1257, p. 49. An interpretation of Subpart 2 so at odds with its structure and manifest purpose cannot be sustained.

We therefore find the EPA’s implementation policy to be unlawful, though not in the precise respect determined by the Court of Appeals. After our remand, and the Court of Appeals’ final disposition of these cases, it is left to the EPA to develop a reasonable interpretation of the nonattainment implementation provisions insofar as they apply to revised ozone NAAQS.

* * *

To summarize our holdings in these unusually complex cases: (1) The EPA may not consider implementation costs in setting primary and secondary NAAQS under § 109(b) of the CAA. (2) Section 109(b)(1) does not delegate legislative power to the EPA in contravention of Art. I, § 1, of the Constitution. (3) The Court of Appeals had jurisdiction to review the EPA’s interpretation of Part D of Title I of the CAA, relating to the implementation of the revised ozone NAAQS. (4) The EPA’s interpretation of that Part is unreasonable.

The judgment of the Court of Appeals is affirmed in part and reversed in part, and the cases are remanded for proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Justice Thomas,

concurring.

I agree with the majority that §109’s directive to the agency is no less an “intelligible principle” than a host of other directives that we have approved. Ante, at 474-476. I also agree that the Court of Appeals’ remand to the agency to make its own corrective interpretation does not accord with our understanding of the delegation issue. Ante, at 472-473. I write separately, however, to express my con*487cern that there may nevertheless be a genuine constitutional problem with § 109, a problem which the parties did not address.

The parties to these cases who briefed the constitutional issue wrangled over constitutional doctrine with barely a nod to the text of the Constitution. Although this Court since 1928 has treated the “intelligible principle” requirement as the only constitutional limit on congressional grants of power to administrative agencies, see J W. Hampton, Jr., & Co. v. United States, 276 U. S. 394, 409 (1928), the Constitution does not speak of “intelligible principles.” Rather, it speaks in much simpler terms: “All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress.” U. S. Const., Art. 1, § 1 (emphasis added). I am not convinced that the intelligible principle doctrine serves to prevent all cessions of legislative power. I believe that there are cases in which the principle is intelligible and yet the significance of the delegated decision is simply too great for the decision to be called anything other than “legislative.”

As it is, none of the parties to these cases has examined the text of the Constitution or asked us to reconsider our precedents on cessions of legislative power. On a future day, however, I would be willing to address the question whether our delegation jurisprudence has strayed too far from our Founders’ understanding of separation of powers.

Justice Stevens,

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

Section 109(b)(1) delegates to the Administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) the authority to promulgate national ambient air quality standards (NAAQS). In Part III of its opinion, ante, at 472-476, the Court convincingly explains why the Court of Appeals erred when it concluded that § 109 effected “an unconstitutional delegation of legislative power.” American Trucking Assns., Inc. v. EPA, 175 F. 3d 1027, 1033 (CADC 1999) (per curiam). *488I wholeheartedly endorse the Court’s result and endorse its explanation of its reasons, albeit with the following caveat.

The Court has two choices. We could choose to articulate our ultimate disposition of this issue by frankly acknowledging that the power delegated to the EPA is “legislative” but nevertheless conclude that the delegation is constitutional because adequately limited by the terms of the authorizing statute. Alternatively, we could pretend, as the Court does, that the authority delegated to the EPA is somehow not “legislative power.” Despite the fact that there is language in our opinions that supports the Court’s articulation of our holding,1 I am persuaded that it would be both wiser and more faithful to what we have actually done in delegation cases to admit that agency rulemaking authority is “legislative power.”2

The proper characterization of governmental power should generally depend on the nature of the power, not on the identity of the person exercising it. See Black’s Law Dictionary 899 (6th ed. 1990) (defining “legislation” as, inter alia, “[formulation of rule[s] for the future”); 1 K. Davis & R. Pierce, Administrative Law Treatise §2.3, p. 37 (3d ed. 1994) (“If legislative power means the power to make rules of conduct that bind everyone based on resolution of major policy issues, scores of agencies exercise legislative power routinely by *489promulgating what are candidly called ‘legislative rules’”). If the NAAQS that the EPA promulgated had been prescribed by Congress, everyone would agree that those rules would be the product of an exercise of “legislative power.” The same characterization is appropriate when an agency exercises rulemaking authority pursuant to a permissible delegation from Congress.

My view is not only more faithful to normal English usage, but is also fully consistent with the text of the Constitution. In Article I, the Framers vested “All legislative Powers” in the Congress, Art. I, § 1, just as in Article II they vested the “executive Power” in the President, Art. II, § 1. Those provisions do not purport to limit the authority of either recipient of power to delegate authority to others. See Bowsher v. Synar, 478 U. S. 714, 752 (1986) (Stevens, J., concurring in judgment) (“Despite the statement in Article I of the Constitution that ‘All legislative powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States,’ it is far from novel to acknowledge that independent agencies do indeed exercise legislative powers”); INS v. Chadha, 462 U. S. 919, 985-986 (1983) (White, J., dissenting) (“[Ljegisla-tive power can be exercised by independent agencies and Executive departments ...”); 1 Davis & Pierce, Administrative Law Treatise § 2.6, at 66 (“The Court was probably mistaken from the outset in interpreting Article I’s grant of power to Congress as an implicit limit on Congress’ authority to delegate legislative power”). Surely the authority granted to members of the Cabinet and federal law enforcement agents is properly characterized as “Executive” even though not exercised by the President. Cf. Morrison v. Olson, 487 U. S. 654, 705-706 (1988) (Scalia, J., dissenting) (arguing that the independent counsel exercised “executive power” unconstrained by the President).

It seems clear that an executive agency’s exercise of rule-making authority pursuant to a valid delegation from Congress is “legislative.” As long as the delegation provides a *490sufficiently intelligible principle, there is nothing inherently unconstitutional about it. Accordingly, while I join Parts I, II, and IV of the Court’s opinion, and agree with almost everything said in Part III, I would hold that when Congress enacted § 109, it effected a constitutional delegation of legislative power to the EPA.

Justice Breyer,

concurring in part and concurring in the judgment.

I join Parts I, III, and IV of the Court’s opinion. I also agree with the Court’s determination in Part II that the Clean Air Act does not permit the Environmental Pi’otection Agency to consider the economic costs of implementation when setting national ambient air quality standards under § 109(b)(1) of the Act. But I would not rest this conclusion solely upon § 109’s language or upon a presumption, such as the Court’s presumption that any authority the Act grants the EPA to consider costs must flow from a “textual commitment” that is “clear.” Ante, at 468. In order better to achieve regulatory goals — for example, to allocate resources so that they save more lives or produce a cleaner environment — regulators must often take account of all of a proposed regulation’s adverse effects, at least where those adverse effects clearly threaten serious and disproportionate public harm. Hence, I believe that, other things being equal, we should read silences or ambiguities in the language of regulatory statutes as permitting, not forbidding, this type of rational regulation.

In these cases, however, other things are not equal. Here, legislative history, along with the statute’s structure, indicates that § 109’s language reflects a congressional decision not to delegate to the agency the legal authority to consider economic costs of compliance.

For one thing, the legislative history shows that Congress intended the statute to be “technology forcing.” Senator Edmund Muskie, the primary sponsor of the 1970 amend*491ments to the Act, introduced them by saying that Congress’ primary responsibility in drafting the Act was not “to be limited by what is or appears to be technologically or economically feasible,” but “to establish what the public interest requires to protect the health of persons,” even if that means that “industries will be asked to do what seems to be impossible at the present time” 116 Cong. Rec. 32901-32902 (1970), 1 Legislative History of the Clean Air Amendments of 1970 (Committee Print compiled for the Senate Committee on Public Works by the Library of Congress), Ser. No. 93-18, p. 227 (1974) (hereinafter Leg. Hist.) (emphasis added).

The Senate directly focused upon the technical feasibility and cost of implementing the Act’s mandates. And it made clear that it intended the Administrator to develop air quality standards set independently of either. The Senate Report for the 1970 amendments explains:

“In the Committee discussions, considerable concern was expressed regarding the use of the concept of technical feasibility as the basis of ambient air standards. The Committee determined that 1) the health of people is more important than the question of whether the early achievement of ambient air quality standards protective of health is technically feasible; and, 2) the growth of pollution load in many areas, even with application of available technology, would still be deleterious to public health. ...

“Therefore, the Committee determined that existing sources of pollutants either should meet the standard of the law or be closed down_” S. Rep. No. 91-1196, pp. 2-3 (1970), 1 Leg. Hist. 402-403 (emphasis added).

Indeed, this Court, after reviewing the entire legislative history, concluded that the 1970 amendments were “expressly designed to force regulated sources to develop pollution control devices that-might at the time appear to be economically or technologically infeasible.” Union Elec. Co. *492v. EPA, 427 U. S. 246, 257 (1976) (emphasis added). And the Court added that the 1970 amendments were intended to be a “drastic remedy to ... a serious and otherwise uncheckable problem.” Id., at 256. Subsequent legislative history confirms that the technology-forcing goals of the 1970 amendments are still paramount in today’s Act. See Clean Air Conference Report (1977): Statement of Intent; Clarification of Select Provisions, 123 Cong. Rec. 27070 (1977) (stating, regarding the 1977 amendments to the Act, that “this year’s legislation retains and even strengthens the technology forcing . . . goals of the 1970 Act”); S. Rep. No. 101-228, p. 5 (1989) (stating that the 1990 amendments to the Act require ambient air quality standards to be set at “the level that ‘protects the public health’ with an ‘adequate margin of safety,’ without regard to the economic or technical feasibility of attainment” (emphasis added)).

To read this legislative history as meaning what it says does not impute to Congress an irrational intent. Technology-forcing hopes can prove realistic. Those persons, for example, who opposed the. 1970 Act’s insistence on a 90% reduction in auto emission pollutants, on the ground of excessive cost, saw the development of catalytic converter technology that helped achieve substantial reductions without the economic catastrophe that some had feared. See §6(a) of the Clean Air Act Amendments of 1970, amending §§ 202(b)(1)(A), (B), 84 Stat. 1690 (codified at 42 U.S.C. §§ 7521(b)(1)(A), (B)) (requiring a 90% reduction in emissions); 1 Leg. Hist. 238, 240 (statement of Sen. Griffin) (arguing that the emissions standards could “force [the automobile] industry out of existence” because costs “would not be taken into account”); see generally Reitze, Mobile Source Air Pollution Control, 6 Env. Law. 309,326-327 (2000) (discussing the development of the catalytic converter).

At the same time, the statute’s technology-forcing objective makes regulatory efforts to determine the costs of implementation both less important and more difficult. It *493means that the relevant economic costs are speculative, for they include the cost of unknown future technologies. It also means that efforts to take costs into account can breed time-consuming and potentially unresolvable arguments about the accuracy and significance of cost estimates. Congress could have thought such efforts not worth the delays and uncertainties that would accompany them. In any event, that is what the statute’s history seems to say. See Union Elec., supra, at 256-259. And the matter is one for Congress to decide.

Moreover, the Act does not, on this reading, wholly ignore cost and feasibility. As the majority points out, ante, at 466-467, the Act allows regulators to take those concerns into account when they determine how to implement ambient air quality standards. Thus, States may consider economic costs when they select the particular control devices used to meet the standards, and industries experiencing difficulty in reducing their emissions can seek an exemption or variance from the state implementation plan. See Union Elec., supra, at 266 (“[T]he most important forum for consideration of claims of economic and technological infeasibility is before the state agency formulating the implementation plan”).

The Act also permits the EPA, within certain limits, to consider costs when it sets deadlines by which areas must attain the ambient air quality standards. 42 U. S. C. § 7502(a)(2)(A) (providing that “the Administrator may extend the attainment date ... for a period no greater than 10 years from the date of designation as nonattainment, considering the severity of nonattainment and the availability and feasibility of pollution control measures”); § 7502(a)(2)(C) (permitting the Administrator to grant up to two additional 1-year extensions); cf. §§ 7511(a)(1), (5) (setting more rigid attainment deadlines for areas in nonattainment of the ozone standard, but permitting the Administrator to grant up to two 1-year extensions). And Congress can change those statutory limits if necessary. Given the ambient air quality *494standards' substantial effects on States, cities, industries, and their suppliers and customers, Congress will hear from those whom compliance deadlines affect adversely, and Congress can consider whether legislative change is warranted. See, e. g., Steel Industry Compliance Extension Act of 1981, 95 Stat. 139 (codified at 42 U. S. C. § 7413(e) (1988 ed.)) (repealed 1990) (granting the Administrator discretion to extend the ambient air quality standard attainment date set in the 1977 Act by up to three years for steelmaking facilities).

Finally, contrary to the suggestion of the Court of Appeals and of some parties, this interpretation of §109 does not require the EPA to eliminate every health risk, however slight, at any economic cost, however great, to the point of “hurtling” industry over “the brink of ruin,” or even forcing “deindustrialization.” American Trucking Assns., Inc. v. EPA, 175 F. 3d 1027, 1037, 1038, n. 4 (CADC 1999); see also Brief for Cross-Petitioners in No. 99-1426, p. 25. The statute, by its express terms, does not compel the elimination of all risk; and it grants the Administrator sufficient flexibility to avoid setting ambient air quality standards ruinous to industry.

Section 109(b)(1) directs the Administrator to set standards that are “requisite to protect the public health” with “an adequate margin of safety.” But these words do not describe a world that is free of all risk — an impossible and undesirable objective. See Industrial Union Dept., AFL-CIO v. American Petroleum Institute, 448 U. S. 607, 642 (1980) (plurality opinion) (the word “safe” does not mean “risk-free”). Nor are the words “requisite” and “public health” to be understood independent of context. We consider football equipment “safe” even if its use entails a level of risk that would make drinking water “unsafe” for consumption. And what counts as “requisite” to protecting the public health will similarly vary with background circumstances, such as the public’s ordinary tolerance of the particular health risk in the particular context at issue. The Administrator can *495consider such background circumstances when “deciding] what risks are acceptable in the world in which we live.” Natural Resources Defense Council, Inc. v. EPA, 824 F. 2d 1146, 1165 (CADC 1987).

The statute also permits the Administrator to take account of comparative health risks. That is to say, she may consider whether a proposed rule promotes safety overall. A rule likely to cause more harm to health than it prevents is not a rule that is “requisite to protect the public health.” For example, as the Court of Appeals held and the parties do not contest, the Administrator has the authority to determine to what extent possible health risks stemming from reductions in tropospheric ozone (which, it is claimed, helps prevent cataracts and skin cancer) should be taken into account in setting the ambient air quality standard for ozone. See 175 F. 3d, at 1050-1053 (remanding for the Administrator to make that determination).

The statute ultimately specifies that the standard set must be “requisite to protect the public health” “in the judgment of the Administrator,” § 109(b)(1), 84 Stat. 1680 (emphasis added), a phrase that grants the Administrator considerable discretionary standard-setting authority.

The statute’s words, then, authorize the Administrator to consider the severity of a pollutant’s potential adverse health effects, the number of those likely to be affected, the distribution of the adverse effects, and the uncertainties surrounding each estimate. Cf. Sunstein, Is the Clean Air Act Unconstitutional?, 98 Mich. L. Rev. 303, 364 (1999). They permit the Administrator to take account of comparative health consequences. They allow her to take account of context when determining the acceptability of small risks to health. And they give her considerable discretion when she does so.

This discretion would seem sufficient to avoid the extreme results that some of the industry parties fear. After all, the EPA, in setting standards that “protect the public health” *496with “an adequate margin of safety,” retains discretionary authority to avoid regulating risks that it reasonably concludes are trivial in context. . Nor need regulation lead to deindustrialization. Preindustrial society was not a very healthy society; hence a standard demanding the return of the Stone Age would not prove “requisite to protect the public health.”

Although I rely more heavily than does the Court upon legislative history and alternative sources of statutory flexibility, I reach the same ultimate conclusion. Section 109 does not delegate to the EPA authority to base the national ambient air quality standards, in whole or in part, upon the economic costs of compliance.

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

Justice ALITO, concurring in the judgment.

The Constitution confers on Congress certain "legislative [p]owers," Art. I, § 1, and does not permit Congress to delegate them to another branch of the Government. See Whitman v. American Trucking Assns. , Inc., 531 U.S. 457, 472, 121 S.Ct. 903, 149 L.Ed.2d 1 (2001). Nevertheless, since 1935, the Court has uniformly rejected nondelegation arguments and has upheld provisions that authorized agencies to *2131adopt important rules pursuant to extraordinarily capacious standards. See ibid .

If a majority of this Court were willing to reconsider the approach we have taken for the past 84 years, I would support that effort. But because a majority is not willing to do that, it would be freakish to single out the provision at issue here for special treatment.

Because I cannot say that the statute lacks a discernable standard that is adequate under the approach this Court has taken for many years, I vote to affirm.

Justice GORSUCH, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE and Justice THOMAS join, dissenting.

The Constitution promises that only the people's elected representatives may adopt new federal laws restricting liberty. Yet the statute before us scrambles that design. It purports to endow the nation's chief prosecutor with the power to write his own criminal code governing the lives of a half-million citizens. Yes, those affected are some of the least popular among us. But if a single executive branch official can write laws restricting the liberty of this group of persons, what does that mean for the next?

Today, a plurality of an eight-member Court endorses this extraconstitutional arrangement but resolves nothing. Working from an understanding of the Constitution at war with its text and history, the plurality reimagines the terms of the statute before us and insists there is nothing wrong with Congress handing off so much power to the Attorney General. But Justice ALITO supplies the fifth vote for today's judgment and he does not join either the plurality's constitutional or statutory analysis, indicating instead that he remains willing, in a future case with a full Court, to revisit these matters. Respectfully, I would not wait.

I

For individuals convicted of sex offenses after Congress adopted the Sex Offender Registration and Notification Act (SORNA) in 2006, the statute offers detailed instructions. It requires them "to provide state governments with (and to update) information, such as names and current addresses, for inclusion on state and federal sex offender registries."1 The law divides offenders into three tiers based on the seriousness of their crimes: Some must register for 15 years, others for 25 years, and still others for life.2 The statute proceeds to set registration deadlines: Offenders sentenced to prison must register before they're released, while others must register within three business days after sentencing.3 The statute explains when and how offenders must update their registrations.4 And the statute specifies particular penalties for failing to comply with its commands.5 On and on the statute goes for more than 20 pages of the U.S. Code.

But what about those convicted of sex offenses before the Act's adoption? At the time of SORNA's enactment, the nation's population of sex offenders exceeded 500,000, and Congress concluded that something had to be done about these "pre-Act" offenders too. But it seems Congress couldn't agree what that should be. The treatment of pre-Act offenders proved a "controversial issue with major policy significance *2132and practical ramifications for states."6 Among other things, applying SORNA immediately to this group threatened to impose unpopular and costly burdens on States and localities by forcing them to adopt or overhaul their own sex offender registration schemes.7 So Congress simply passed the problem to the Attorney General. For all half-million pre-Act offenders, the law says only this, in 34 U.S.C. § 20913(d) :

"The Attorney General shall have the authority to specify the applicability of the requirements of this subchapter to sex offenders convicted before the enactment of this chapter ... and to prescribe rules for the registration of any such sex offender."

Yes, that's it. The breadth of the authority Congress granted to the Attorney General in these few words can only be described as vast. As the Department of Justice itself has acknowledged, SORNA "does not require the Attorney General" to impose registration requirements on pre-Act offenders "within a certain time frame or by a date certain; it does not require him to act at all."8 If the Attorney General does choose to act, he can require all pre-Act offenders to register, or he can "require some but not all to register."9 For those he requires to register, the Attorney General may impose "some but not all of [SORNA's] registration requirements," as he pleases.10 And he is free to change his mind on any of these matters "at any given time or over the course of different [political] administrations."11 Congress thus gave the Attorney General free rein to write the rules for virtually the entire existing sex offender population in this country-a situation that promised to persist for years or decades until pre-Act offenders passed away or fulfilled the terms of their registration obligations and post-Act offenders came to predominate.

Unsurprisingly, different Attorneys General have exercised their discretion in different ways.12 For six months after SORNA's enactment, Attorney General Gonzales left past offenders alone. Then the pendulum swung the other direction when the Department of Justice issued an interim rule requiring pre-Act offenders to follow all the same rules as post-Act offenders.13 A year later, Attorney General Mukasey issued more new guidelines, this time directing the States to register some but not all past offenders.14 Three years after that, Attorney General Holder required the States to register only those pre-Act offenders convicted of a new felony after SORNA's enactment.15 Various Attorneys General have also taken different positions on whether pre-Act offenders might be entitled to credit for time spent in the community before SORNA was enacted.16

*2133These unbounded policy choices have profound consequences for the people they affect. Take our case. Before SORNA's enactment, Herman Gundy pleaded guilty in 2005 to a sexual offense. After his release from prison five years later, he was arrested again, this time for failing to register as a sex offender according to the rules the Attorney General had then prescribed for pre-Act offenders. As a result, Mr. Gundy faced an additional 10-year prison term-10 years more than if the Attorney General had, in his discretion, chosen to write the rules differently.

II

A

Our founding document begins by declaring that "We the People ... ordain and establish this Constitution." At the time, that was a radical claim, an assertion that sovereignty belongs not to a person or institution or class but to the whole of the people. From that premise, the Constitution proceeded to vest the authority to exercise different aspects of the people's sovereign power in distinct entities. In Article I, the Constitution entrusted all of the federal government's legislative power to Congress. In Article II, it assigned the executive power to the President. And in Article III, it gave independent judges the task of applying the laws to cases and controversies.

To the framers, each of these vested powers had a distinct content. When it came to the legislative power, the framers understood it to mean the power to adopt generally applicable rules of conduct governing future actions by private persons-the power to "prescrib[e] the rules by which the duties and rights of every citizen are to be regulated,"17 or the power to "prescribe general rules for the government of society."18

The framers understood, too, that it would frustrate "the system of government ordained by the Constitution" if Congress could merely announce vague aspirations and then assign others the responsibility of adopting legislation to realize its goals.19 Through the Constitution, after all, the people had vested the power to prescribe rules limiting their liberties in Congress alone. No one, not even Congress, had the right to alter that arrangement. As Chief Justice Marshall explained, Congress may not "delegate ... powers which are strictly and exclusively legislative."20 Or as John Locke, one of the thinkers who most influenced the framers' understanding of the separation of powers, described it:

"The legislative cannot transfer the power of making laws to any other hands; for it being but a delegated power from the people, they who have it cannot pass it over to others. The people alone can appoint the form of the commonwealth, which is by constituting the legislative, and appointing in whose hands that shall be. And when the people have said we will submit to rules, and be governed by laws made by such men, and in such forms, nobody else can say other men shall make laws for them; nor can the people be bound by any laws but such as *2134are enacted by those whom they have chosen and authorised to make laws for them."21

Why did the framers insist on this particular arrangement? They believed the new federal government's most dangerous power was the power to enact laws restricting the people's liberty.22 An "excess of law-making" was, in their words, one of "the diseases to which our governments are most liable."23 To address that tendency, the framers went to great lengths to make lawmaking difficult. In Article I, by far the longest part of the Constitution, the framers insisted that any proposed law must win the approval of two Houses of Congress-elected at different times, by different constituencies, and for different terms in office-and either secure the President's approval or obtain enough support to override his veto. Some occasionally complain about Article I's detailed and arduous processes for new legislation, but to the framers these were bulwarks of liberty.

Nor was the point only to limit the government's capacity to restrict the people's freedoms. Article I's detailed processes for new laws were also designed to promote deliberation. "The oftener the measure is brought under examination," Hamilton explained, "the greater the diversity in the situations of those who are to examine it," and "the less must be the danger of those errors which flow from want of due deliberation, or of those missteps which proceed from the contagion of some common passion or interest."24

Other purposes animated the framers' design as well. Because men are not angels25 and majorities can threaten minority rights, the framers insisted on a legislature composed of different bodies subject to different electorates as a means of ensuring that any new law would have to secure the approval of a supermajority of the people's representatives. This, in turn, assured minorities that their votes would often decide the fate of proposed legislation. Indeed, some even thought a Bill of Rights would prove unnecessary in light of the Constitution's design; in their view, sound structures forcing "[a]mbition [to] ... counteract ambition" would do more than written promises to guard unpopular minorities from the tyranny of the majority.26 Restricting the task of legislating to one branch characterized by difficult and deliberative processes was also designed to promote fair notice and the rule of law, ensuring the people would be subject to a relatively stable and predictable set of rules.27 And by directing that legislating be done only by elected representatives in a public process, the Constitution sought to ensure that the lines of accountability would be clear: The sovereign people would know, without ambiguity, whom to hold accountable for the laws they would have to follow.28

If Congress could pass off its legislative power to the executive branch, the "[v]esting *2135[c]lauses, and indeed the entire structure of the Constitution," would "make no sense."29 Without the involvement of representatives from across the country or the demands of bicameralism and presentment, legislation would risk becoming nothing more than the will of the current President. And if laws could be simply declared by a single person, they would not be few in number, the product of widespread social consensus, likely to protect minority interests, or apt to provide stability and fair notice.30 Accountability would suffer too. Legislators might seek to take credit for addressing a pressing social problem by sending it to the executive for resolution, while at the same time blaming the executive for the problems that attend whatever measures he chooses to pursue. In turn, the executive might point to Congress as the source of the problem. These opportunities for finger-pointing might prove temptingly advantageous for the politicians involved, but they would also threaten to " 'disguise ... responsibility for ... the decisions.' "31

The framers warned us against permitting consequences like these. As Madison explained, " '[t]here can be no liberty where the legislative and executive powers are united in the same person, or body of magistrates.' "32 The framers knew, too, that the job of keeping the legislative power confined to the legislative branch couldn't be trusted to self-policing by Congress; often enough, legislators will face rational incentives to pass problems to the executive branch. Besides, enforcing the separation of powers isn't about protecting institutional prerogatives or governmental turf. It's about respecting the people's sovereign choice to vest the legislative power in Congress alone. And it's about safeguarding a structure designed to protect their liberties, minority rights, fair notice, and the rule of law. So when a case or controversy comes within the judicial competence, the Constitution does not permit judges to look the other way; we must call foul when the constitutional lines are crossed. Indeed, the framers afforded us independence from the political branches in large part to encourage exactly this kind of "fortitude ... to do [our] duty as faithful guardians of the Constitution."33

B

Accepting, then, that we have an obligation to decide whether Congress has unconstitutionally divested itself of its legislative responsibilities, the question follows: What's the test? Madison acknowledged that "no skill in the science of government has yet been able to discriminate and define, with sufficient certainty, its three great provinces-the legislative, executive, and judiciary."34 Chief Justice Marshall agreed that policing the separation of powers "is a subject of delicate and difficult inquiry."35 Still, the framers took this responsibility seriously *2136and offered us important guiding principles.

First, we know that as long as Congress makes the policy decisions when regulating private conduct, it may authorize another branch to "fill up the details." In Wayman v. Southard , this Court upheld a statute that instructed the federal courts to borrow state-court procedural rules but allowed them to make certain "alterations and additions." Writing for the Court, Chief Justice Marshall distinguished between those "important subjects, which must be entirely regulated by the legislature itself," and "those of less interest, in which a general provision may be made, and power given to those who are to act ... to fill up the details."36 The Court upheld the statute before it because Congress had announced the controlling general policy when it ordered federal courts to follow state procedures, and the residual authority to make "alterations and additions" did no more than permit courts to fill up the details.

Later cases built on Chief Justice Marshall's understanding. In In re Kollock , for example, the Court upheld a statute that assigned the Commissioner of Internal Revenue the responsibility to design tax stamps for margarine packages.37 Later still, and using the same logic, the Court sustained other and far more consequential statutes, like a law authorizing the Secretary of Agriculture to adopt rules regulating the "use and occupancy" of public forests to protect them from "destruction" and "depredations."38 Through all these cases, small or large, runs the theme that Congress must set forth standards "sufficiently definite and precise to enable Congress, the courts, and the public to ascertain" whether Congress's guidance has been followed.39

Second, once Congress prescribes the rule governing private conduct, it may make the application of that rule depend on executive fact-finding. Here, too, the power extended to the executive may prove highly consequential. During the Napoleonic Wars, for example, Britain and France each tried to block the United States from trading with the other. Congress responded with a statute instructing that, if the President found that either Great Britain or France stopped interfering with American trade, a trade embargo would be imposed against the other country. In Cargo of Brig Aurora v. United States , this Court explained that it could "see no sufficient reason, why the legislature should not exercise its discretion [to impose an embargo] either expressly or conditionally , as their judgment should direct."40 Half a century later, Congress likewise made the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge depend on a finding by the Secretary of War that the bridge wouldn't interfere with navigation of the East River. The Court held that Congress "did not abdicate any of its authority" but "simply declared that, upon a certain fact being established, the bridge should be deemed a lawful structure, and employed the secretary of war as an agent to ascertain *2137that fact."41

Third, Congress may assign the executive and judicial branches certain non-legislative responsibilities. While the Constitution vests all federal legislative power in Congress alone, Congress's legislative authority sometimes overlaps with authority the Constitution separately vests in another branch.42 So, for example, when a congressional statute confers wide discretion to the executive, no separation-of-powers problem may arise if "the discretion is to be exercised over matters already within the scope of executive power."43 Though the case was decided on different grounds, the foreign-affairs-related statute in Cargo of the Brig Aurora may be an example of this kind of permissible lawmaking, given that many foreign affairs powers are constitutionally vested in the president under Article II. Wayman itself might be explained by the same principle as applied to the judiciary: Even in the absence of any statute, courts have the power under Article III "to regulate their practice."44

C

Before the 1930s, federal statutes granting authority to the executive were comparatively modest and usually easily upheld. But then the federal government began to grow explosively. And with the proliferation of new executive programs came new questions about the scope of congressional delegations. Twice the Court responded by striking down statutes for violating the separation of powers.

In A. L. A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States , the Court considered a statute that transferred to the President the power "to approve 'codes of fair competition' " for slaughterhouses and other industries.45 But Congress offered no meaningful guidance. It did not, for example, reference any pre-existing common law of fair competition that might have supplied guidance on the policy questions, as it arguably had done earlier with the Sherman Act.46 And it did not announce rules contingent on executive fact-finding. Nor was this assigned power one that anyone thought might inhere in the executive power. Proceeding without the need to convince a majority of legislators, the President adopted a lengthy fair competition code written by a group of (possibly self-serving) New York poultry butchers.

Included in the code was a rule that often made it a federal crime for butchers to allow customers to select which individual chickens they wished to buy. Kosher butchers such as the Schechters had a hard time following these rules. Yet the government apparently singled out the *2138Schechters as a test case; inspectors repeatedly visited them and, at times, apparently behaved abusively toward their customers. When the Schechters finally kicked the inspectors out, they were greeted with a criminal indictment running to dozens of counts. After a trial in which the Schechters were found guilty of selling one allegedly "unfit" chicken and other miscellaneous counts,47 this Court agreed to hear the case and struck down the law as a violation of the separation of powers. If Congress could permit the President to write a new code of fair competition all his own, Justice Cardozo explained, then "anything that Congress may do within the limits of the commerce clause for the betterment of business [could] be done by the President ... by calling it a code. This is delegation running riot."48

The same year, in Panama Refining Co. v. Ryan , the Court struck down a statute that authorized the President to decide whether and how to prohibit the interstate transportation of " 'hot oil,' " petroleum produced or withdrawn from storage in excess of state-set quotas. As in Schechter Poultry , the law provided no notice to regulated parties about what the President might wind up prohibiting, leading the Court to observe that Congress "ha[d] declared no policy, ha[d] established no standard, ha[d] laid down no rule."49 The Court explained that the statute did not call for the executive to "ascertai[n] the existence of facts to which legislation is directed."50 Nor did it ask the executive to " 'fill up the details' " "within the framework of the policy which the legislature has sufficiently defined."51 "If [the statute] were held valid," the Court continued, "it would be idle to pretend that anything would be left of limitations upon the power of the Congress to delegate its law-making function."52

After Schechter Poultry and Panama Refining , Congress responded by writing a second wave of New Deal legislation more "[c]arefully crafted" to avoid the kind of problems that sank these early statutes.53 And since that time the Court hasn't held another statute to violate the separation of powers in the same way. Of course, no one thinks that the Court's quiescence can be attributed to an unwavering new tradition of more scrupulously drawn statutes. Some lament that the real cause may have to do with a mistaken "case of death by association" because Schechter Poultry and Panama Refining happened to be handed down during the same era as certain of the Court's now-discredited substantive due process decisions.54 But maybe the most likely explanation of all lies in the story of the evolving "intelligible principle" doctrine.

This Court first used that phrase in 1928 in J. W. Hampton, Jr., & Co. v. United States , where it remarked that a statute "lay[ing] down by legislative act an intelligible principle to which the [executive official]

*2139is directed to conform" satisfies the separation of powers.55 No one at the time thought the phrase meant to effect some revolution in this Court's understanding of the Constitution. While the exact line between policy and details, lawmaking and fact-finding, and legislative and non-legislative functions had sometimes invited reasonable debate, everyone agreed these were the relevant inquiries. And when Chief Justice Taft wrote of an "intelligible principle," it seems plain enough that he sought only to explain the operation of these traditional tests; he gave no hint of a wish to overrule or revise them. Tellingly, too, he wrote the phrase seven years before Schechter Poultry and Panama Refining , and it did nothing to alter the analysis in those cases, let alone prevent those challenges from succeeding by lopsided votes.

There's a good argument, as well, that the statute in J. W. Hampton passed muster under the traditional tests. To boost American competitiveness in international trade, the legislation directed the President to " 'investigat[e]' " the relative costs of production for American companies and their foreign counterparts and impose tariffs or duties that would " 'equalize' " those costs.56 It also offered guidance on how to determine costs of production, listing several relevant factors and establishing a process for interested parties to submit evidence.57 The President's fact-finding responsibility may have required intricate calculations, but it could be argued that Congress had made all the relevant policy decisions, and the Court's reference to an "intelligible principle" was just another way to describe the traditional rule that Congress may leave the executive the responsibility to find facts and fill up details.58

Still, it's undeniable that the "intelligible principle" remark eventually began to take on a life of its own. We sometimes chide people for treating judicial opinions as if they were statutes, divorcing a passing comment from its context, ignoring all that came before and after, and treating an isolated phrase as if it were controlling.59 But that seems to be exactly what happened here. For two decades, no one thought to invoke the "intelligible principle" comment as a basis to uphold a statute that would have failed more traditional separation-of-powers tests. In fact, the phrase sat more or less silently entombed until the late 1940s. Only then did lawyers begin digging it up in earnest and arguing to this Court that it had somehow displaced (sub silentio of course) all prior teachings in this area.60

This mutated version of the "intelligible principle" remark has no basis in the original meaning of the Constitution, in history, or even in the decision from which it was plucked. Judges and scholars representing a wide and diverse range of views have condemned it as resting on "misunderst[ood]

*2140historical foundations."61 They have explained, too, that it has been abused to permit delegations of legislative power that on any other conceivable account should be held unconstitutional. Indeed, where some have claimed to see "intelligible principles" many "less discerning readers [have been able only to] find gibberish."62 Even Justice Douglas, one of the fathers of the administrative state, came to criticize excessive congressional delegations in the period when the intelligible principle "test" began to take hold.63

Still, the scope of the problem can be overstated. At least some of the results the Court has reached under the banner of the abused "intelligible principle" doctrine may be consistent with more traditional teachings. Some delegations have, at least arguably, implicated the president's inherent Article II authority. The Court has held, for example, that Congress may authorize the President to prescribe aggravating factors that permit a military court-martial to impose the death penalty on a member of the Armed Forces convicted of murder-a decision that may implicate in part the President's independent commander-in-chief authority.64 Others of these cases may have involved laws that specified rules governing private conduct but conditioned the application of those rules on fact-finding-a practice that is, as we've seen, also long associated with the executive function.65

*2141More recently, too, we've sought to tame misunderstandings of the intelligible principle "test." In Touby v. United States , the Court considered a provision of the Controlled Substances Act that allowed the Attorney General to add a substance to a list of prohibited drugs temporarily if he determined that doing so was " 'necessary to avoid an imminent hazard to the public safety.' "66 Notably, Congress required the Attorney General, before acting, to consider the drug's " 'history and current pattern of abuse,' " the " 'scope, duration, and significance of [that] abuse,' " and " '[w]hat, if any, risk there is to the public health.' "67 In approving the statute, the Court stressed all these constraints on the Attorney General's discretion and, in doing so, seemed to indicate that the statute supplied an "intelligible principle" because it assigned an essentially fact-finding responsibility to the executive. Whether or not one agrees with its characterization of the statute, in proceeding as it did Touby may have at least begun to point us back in the direction of the right questions. To determine whether a statute provides an intelligible principle, we must ask: Does the statute assign to the executive only the responsibility to make factual findings? Does it set forth the facts that the executive must consider and the criteria against which to measure them? And most importantly, did Congress, and not the Executive Branch, make the policy judgments? Only then can we fairly say that a statute contains the kind of intelligible principle the Constitution demands.

While it's been some time since the Court last held that a statute improperly delegated the legislative power to another branch-thanks in no small measure to the intelligible principle misadventure-the Court has hardly abandoned the business of policing improper legislative delegations. When one legal doctrine becomes unavailable to do its intended work, the hydraulic pressures of our constitutional system sometimes shift the responsibility to different doctrines.68 And that's exactly what's happened here. We still regularly rein in Congress's efforts to delegate legislative power; we just call what we're doing by different names.

Consider, for example, the "major questions" doctrine. Under our precedents, an agency can fill in statutory gaps where "statutory circumstances" indicate that Congress meant to grant it such powers.69 But we don't follow that rule when the "statutory gap" concerns "a question of deep 'economic and political significance' that is central to the statutory scheme."70 So we've rejected agency demands that we defer to their attempts to rewrite rules for billions of dollars in healthcare tax credits,71 to assume control over millions of small greenhouse gas sources,72 and to ban *2142cigarettes.73 Although it is nominally a canon of statutory construction, we apply the major questions doctrine in service of the constitutional rule that Congress may not divest itself of its legislative power by transferring that power to an executive agency.

Consider, too, this Court's cases addressing vagueness. "A vague law," this Court has observed, "impermissibly delegates basic policy matters to policemen, judges, and juries for resolution on an ad hoc and subjective basis."74 And we have explained that our doctrine prohibiting vague laws is an outgrowth and "corollary of the separation of powers."75 It's easy to see, too, how most any challenge to a legislative delegation can be reframed as a vagueness complaint: A statute that does not contain "sufficiently definite and precise" standards "to enable Congress, the courts, and the public to ascertain" whether Congress's guidance has been followed at once presents a delegation problem and provides impermissibly vague guidance to affected citizens.76 And it seems little coincidence that our void-for-vagueness cases became much more common soon after the Court began relaxing its approach to legislative delegations. Before 1940, the Court decided only a handful of vagueness challenges to federal statutes. Since then, the phrase "void for vagueness" has appeared in our cases well over 100 times.

Nor have we abandoned enforcing other sides of the separation-of-powers triangle between the legislative, executive, and judiciary. We have not hesitated to prevent Congress from "confer[ring] the Government's 'judicial Power' on entities outside Article III."77 We've forbidden the executive from encroaching on legislative functions by wielding a line-item veto.78 We've prevented Congress from delegating its collective legislative power to a single House.79 And we've policed legislative efforts to control executive branch officials.80 These cases show that, when the separation of powers is at stake, we don't just throw up our hands. In all these areas, we recognize that abdication is "not part of the constitutional design."81 And abdication here would be no more appropriate. To leave this aspect of the constitutional structure alone undefended would serve only to accelerate the flight of power from the legislative to the executive branch, turning the latter into a vortex of authority that was constitutionally reserved for the people's representatives in order to protect their liberties.

*2143III

A

Returning to SORNA with this understanding of our charge in hand, problems quickly emerge. Start with this one: It's hard to see how SORNA leaves the Attorney General with only details to fill up. Of course, what qualifies as a detail can sometimes be difficult to discern and, as we've seen, this Court has upheld statutes that allow federal agencies to resolve even highly consequential details so long as Congress prescribes the rule governing private conduct. But it's hard to see how the statute before us could be described as leaving the Attorney General with only details to dispatch. As the government itself admitted in Reynolds , SORNA leaves the Attorney General free to impose on 500,000 pre-Act offenders all of the statute's requirements, some of them, or none of them. The Attorney General may choose which pre-Act offenders to subject to the Act. And he is free to change his mind at any point or over the course of different political administrations. In the end, there isn't a single policy decision concerning pre-Act offenders on which Congress even tried to speak, and not a single other case where we have upheld executive authority over matters like these on the ground they constitute mere "details." This much appears to have been deliberate, too. Because members of Congress could not reach consensus on the treatment of pre-Act offenders, it seems this was one of those situations where they found it expedient to hand off the job to the executive and direct there the blame for any later problems that might emerge.

Nor can SORNA be described as an example of conditional legislation subject to executive fact-finding. To be sure, Congress could have easily written this law in that way. It might have required all pre-Act offenders to register, but then given the Attorney General the authority to make case-by-case exceptions for offenders who do not present an " 'imminent hazard to the public safety' " comparable to that posed by newly released post-Act offenders.82 It could have set criteria to inform that determination, too, asking the executive to investigate, say, whether an offender's risk of recidivism correlates with the time since his last offense, or whether multiple lesser offenses indicate higher or lower risks than a single greater offense.

But SORNA did none of this. Instead, it gave the Attorney General unfettered discretion to decide which requirements to impose on which pre-Act offenders. The Attorney General's own edicts acknowledge the considerable policy-making powers he enjoys, describing his rules governing pre-Act offenders as " 'of fundamental importance to the initial operation of SORNA, and to its practical scope ... since [they] determin[e] the applicability of SORNA's requirements to virtually the entire existing sex offender population.' "83 These edicts tout, too, the Attorney General's "discretion to apply SORNA's requirements to sex offenders with pre-SORNA convictions if he determines (as he has) that the public benefits of doing so outweigh any adverse effects."84 Far from deciding the factual predicates to a rule set forth by statute, the Attorney General himself acknowledges that the law entitles him to make his own policy decisions.

Finally, SORNA does not involve an area of overlapping authority with the executive.

*2144Congress may assign the President broad authority regarding the conduct of foreign affairs or other matters where he enjoys his own inherent Article II powers. But SORNA stands far afield from any of that. It gives the Attorney General the authority to "prescrib[e] the rules by which the duties and rights" of citizens are determined, a quintessentially legislative power.85

Our precedents confirm these conclusions. If allowing the President to draft a "cod[e] of fair competition" for slaughterhouses was "delegation running riot," then it's hard to see how giving the nation's chief prosecutor the power to write a criminal code rife with his own policy choices might be permissible.86 And if Congress may not give the President the discretion to ban or allow the interstate transportation of petroleum, then it's hard to see how Congress may give the Attorney General the discretion to apply or not apply any or all of SORNA's requirements to pre-Act offenders, and then change his mind at any time.87 If the separation of powers means anything, it must mean that Congress cannot give the executive branch a blank check to write a code of conduct governing private conduct for a half-million people.

The statute here also sounds all the alarms the founders left for us. Because Congress could not achieve the consensus necessary to resolve the hard problems associated with SORNA's application to pre-Act offenders, it passed the potato to the Attorney General. And freed from the need to assemble a broad supermajority for his views, the Attorney General did not hesitate to apply the statute retroactively to a politically unpopular minority. Nor could the Attorney General afford the issue the kind of deliberative care the framers designed a representative legislature to ensure. Perhaps that's part of the reason why the executive branch found itself rapidly adopting different positions across different administrations. And because SORNA vested lawmaking power in one person rather than many, it should be no surprise that, rather than few and stable, the edicts have proved frequent and shifting, with fair notice sacrificed in the process. Then, too, there is the question of accountability. In passing this statute, Congress was able to claim credit for "comprehensively" addressing the problem of the entire existing population of sex offenders (who can object to that?), while in fact leaving the Attorney General to sort it out.

It would be easy enough to let this case go. After all, sex offenders are one of the most disfavored groups in our society. But the rule that prevents Congress from giving the executive carte blanche to write laws for sex offenders is the same rule that protects everyone else. Nor is it hard to imagine how the power at issue in this case-the power of a prosecutor to require a group to register with the government on pain of weighty criminal penalties-could be abused in other settings. To allow the nation's chief law enforcement officer to write the criminal laws he is charged with enforcing-to " 'unit[e]' " the " 'legislative and executive powers ... in the same person' "-would be to mark the end of any meaningful enforcement of our separation of powers and invite the tyranny of the majority that follows when lawmaking *2145and law enforcement responsibilities are united in the same hands.88

Nor would enforcing the Constitution's demands spell doom for what some call the "administrative state." The separation of powers does not prohibit any particular policy outcome, let alone dictate any conclusion about the proper size and scope of government. Instead, it is a procedural guarantee that requires Congress to assemble a social consensus before choosing our nation's course on policy questions like those implicated by SORNA. What is more, Congress is hardly bereft of options to accomplish all it might wish to achieve. It may always authorize executive branch officials to fill in even a large number of details, to find facts that trigger the generally applicable rule of conduct specified in a statute, or to exercise non-legislative powers. Congress can also commission agencies or other experts to study and recommend legislative language. Respecting the separation of powers forecloses no substantive outcomes. It only requires us to respect along the way one of the most vital of the procedural protections of individual liberty found in our Constitution.

B

What do the government and the plurality have to say about the constitutional concerns SORNA poses? Most everyone, the plurality included, concedes that if SORNA allows the Attorney General as much authority as we have outlined, it would present "a nondelegation question."89 So the only remaining available tactic is to try to make this big case "small-bore"90 by recasting the statute in a way that might satisfy any plausible separation-of-powers test. So, yes, just a few years ago in Reynolds the government represented to this Court that SORNA granted the Attorney General nearly boundless discretion with respect to pre-Act offenders. But now , faced with a constitutional challenge, the government speaks out of the other side of its mouth and invites us to reimagine SORNA as compelling the Attorney General to register pre-Act offenders "to the maximum extent feasible." And, as thus reinvented, the government insists, the statute supplies a clear statement of legislative policy, with only details for the Attorney General to clean up.

But even this new dream of a statute wouldn't be free from doubt. A statute directing an agency to regulate private conduct to the extent "feasible" can have many possible meanings: It might refer to "technological" feasibility, "economic" feasibility, "administrative" feasibility, or even "political" feasibility. Such an "evasive standard" could threaten the separation of powers if it effectively allowed the agency to make the "important policy choices" that belong to Congress while frustrating "meaningful judicial review."91 And that seems exactly the case here, where the Attorney General is left free to make all the important policy decisions and it is difficult to see what standard a court might later use to judge whether he exceeded the bounds of the authority given to him.

But don't worry over that; return to the real world. The bigger problem is that the feasibility standard is a figment of the government's (very recent) imagination.

*2146The only provision addressing pre-Act offenders, § 20913(d), says nothing about feasibility. And the omission can hardly be excused as some oversight: No one doubts that Congress knows exactly how to write a feasibility standard into law when it wishes.92 Unsurprisingly, too, the existence of some imaginary statutory feasibility standard seemed to have escaped notice at the Department of Justice during the Attorney General's many rulemakings; in those proceedings, as we have seen, the Attorney General has repeatedly admitted that the statute affords him the authority to "balance" the burdens on sex offenders with "public safety interests" as and how he sees fit.93

Unable to muster a feasibility standard from the only statutory provision addressing pre-Act offenders, the plurality invites us to hunt in other and more unlikely corners. It points first to SORNA's "[d]eclaration of purpose," which announces that Congress, "[i]n order to protect the public from sex offenders and offenders against children ... establishes a comprehensive national system for the registration of those offenders."94 But nowhere is feasibility mentioned here either. In fact, this provision doesn't purport to guide the Attorney General's discretion at all. Instead, it simply declares what Congress believed the rest of the statute's enacted provisions had already "establishe[d]," without the need for any action by the Attorney General. And by now surely we must all agree that broad and sweeping statements like these about "a statute's 'basic purpose' are ... inadequate to overcome the words of its text regarding the specific issue under consideration."95 While those adopting SORNA might have declared that they hoped and wished for a "comprehensive national system," the fact remains that the law they actually adopted for pre-Act offenders leaves everything to the Attorney General. Hopes and dreams are not laws.

Besides, even if we were to pretend that § 20901 amounted to a directive telling the Attorney General to establish a "comprehensive national system" for pre-Act offenders, the plurality reads too much into the word "comprehensive." Comprehensive coverage does not mean coverage to the maximum extent feasible. "Comprehensive" means "having the attribute of comprising or including much; of large content or scope," "[i]nclusive of; embracing," or "[c]ontaining much in small compass; compendious."96 So, for example, a criminal justice system may be called "comprehensive" even though many crimes go unpursued. And SORNA itself contains all sorts of coverage exceptions for post-Act offenders yet claims to comprehensively address them.97 In the same way, no reason exists why SORNA might not also claim to address pre-Act offenders "comprehensively" even though the Attorney General is free to exercise his discretion to forgo registration for some, many, or maybe all of them. The statute still "comprehensively" addresses these persons by indicating they must abide whatever rules an Attorney General may choose. In all these ways, SORNA might be said to address sex offenders *2147past, present, and future in a way that "compris[es] or includ[es] much," and that is "of large content or scope," but in a way that nevertheless delegates important policy decisions to the executive branch.

Finding it impossible to conscript the statute's declaration of purpose into doing the work it needs done, the government and plurality next ask us to turn to SORNA's definition of " 'sex offender.' "98 They emphasize that SORNA defines a "sex offender" as " 'an individual who was convicted of a sex offense' "-and, they note, pre-Act offenders meet this definition.99 Because pre-Act offenders fall within the definition of "sex offender[s]," the government and plurality continue, it follows that the Attorney General must ensure all of them are registered and subject to SORNA's demands.

That much, however, does not follow. To say that pre-Act sex offenders fall within the definition of "sex offenders" is merely a truism: Yes, of course, these people have already been convicted of sex offenses under state law. But whether these individuals are also subject to federal registration requirements is a different question entirely. And as we have seen, the only part of the statute that speaks to pre-Act sex offenders- § 20913(d) -makes plain that they are not automatically subject to all the Act's terms but are left to their fate at the hands of the Attorney General. Look at it this way: If the statute's definitional section were really enough to command the registration of all sex offenders, the Act would have had no need to proceed to explain, as it does at great length, when post- Act sex offenders must register and when they need not.

If that argument won't work, the plurality points us to § 20913(d)'s second clause, which grants the Attorney General the authority "to prescribe rules for the registration of ... sex offenders ... who are unable to comply" with the Act's initial registration requirements.100 According to the plurality, this language suggests that Congress expected the Attorney General to register pre-Act offenders to the maximum extent feasible. But, of course, this clause, too, says nothing of the sort. And the authority provided under § 20913(d)'s first clause-which gives the Attorney General the blanket authority "to specify the applicability of the requirements of this subchapter"-is additional to the authority granted under the second clause. So not only does the Attorney General have the authority to prescribe rules for the registration of pre-Act offenders under the second clause, he is free to specify which statutory requirements he does and does not wish to apply under the first clause. Far from suggesting a maximalist approach then, the second clause read in light of the first only serves to underscore the breadth of the Attorney General's discretion.

With so little in statutory text to work with, the government and the plurality "can't resist" highlighting certain statements from the Act's legislative history.101 But "legislative history is not the law."102 Still less can committee reports or statements by individual legislators be used "to muddy clear statutory language" like that before us.103 And even taken on their own *2148terms, these statements do no more than confirm that some members of Congress hoped and wished that the Attorney General would exercise his discretion to register at least some pre-Act offenders. None of these snippets mentions a "feasibility" standard, and none can obscure the absence of such a standard in the law itself.

That leaves the plurality and the government to try to fish its feasibility standard from our decision in Reynolds . But Reynolds would make a difference only if it bound us as a matter of stare decisis to adopt an interpretation inconsistent with the statute's terms. And, of course, it does no such thing. The government and the plurality submit that Reynolds was premised on an understanding that Congress intended the statute to apply to pre-Act offenders to the maximum extent feasible. To support their reading they point to Reynolds ' surmise that Congress "may well have thought [that there could be] practical problems" with applying SORNA to pre-Act offenders and for that reason left their registration obligations to be sorted out by the Attorney General.104 But speculation about some of Congress's motives in adopting § 20913(d) aside, Reynolds plainly understood the statute itself as investing the Attorney General with sole power to decide whether and when to apply SORNA's requirements to pre-Act offenders.105

*

Nothing found here can come as a surprise. In Reynolds , the government told this Court that SORNA supplies no standards regulating the Attorney General's treatment of pre-Act offenders. This Court agreed, and everyone proceeded with eyes open about the potential constitutional consequences; in fact, the dissent expressly warned that adopting such a broad construction of the statute would yield the separation-of-powers challenge we face today.106 Now, when the statute faces the chopping block, the government asks us to ignore its earlier arguments and reimagine (really, rewrite) the statute in a new and narrower way to avoid its long-predicted fate. No wonder some of us are not inclined to play along.

The only real surprise is that the Court fails to make good on the consequences the government invited, resolving nothing and deferring everything. In a future case with a full panel, I remain hopeful that the Court may yet recognize that, while Congress can enlist considerable assistance from the executive branch in filling up details and finding facts, it may never hand off to the nation's chief prosecutor the power to write his own criminal code. That "is delegation running riot."107

Justice KAGAN delivered the opinion of the Court.

The Appointments Clause of the Constitution lays out the permissible methods of appointing "Officers of the United States," a class of government officials distinct from mere employees. Art. II, § 2, cl. 2. This case requires us to decide whether administrative law judges (ALJs) of the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC or Commission) qualify as such "Officers." In keeping with Freytag v. Commissioner, 501 U.S. 868, 111 S.Ct. 2631, 115 L.Ed.2d 764 (1991), we hold that they do.

I

The SEC has statutory authority to enforce the nation's securities laws. One way it can do so is by instituting an administrative proceeding against an alleged wrongdoer. By law, the Commission may itself preside over such a proceeding. See 17 C.F.R. § 201.110 (2017). But the Commission also may, and typically does, delegate that task to an ALJ. See ibid. ; 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(a). The SEC currently has five ALJs. Other staff members, rather than the Commission proper, selected them all. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 295a-297a.

An ALJ assigned to hear an SEC enforcement action has extensive powers-the "authority to do all things necessary and appropriate to discharge his or her duties" and ensure a "fair and orderly" adversarial proceeding. §§ 201.111, 200.14(a). Those powers "include, but are not limited to," supervising discovery; issuing, revoking, or modifying subpoenas; deciding motions; ruling on the admissibility of evidence; administering oaths; hearing and examining witnesses; generally "[r]egulating the course of" the proceeding and the "conduct of the parties and their counsel"; and imposing sanctions for "[c]ontemptuous conduct" or violations of procedural requirements. §§ 201.111, 201.180 ; see §§ 200.14(a), 201.230. As that list suggests, an SEC ALJ exercises authority "comparable to" that of a federal district judge conducting a bench trial. Butz v. Economou, 438 U.S. 478, 513, 98 S.Ct. 2894, 57 L.Ed.2d 895 (1978).

After a hearing ends, the ALJ issues an "initial decision." § 201.360(a)(1). That decision must set out "findings and conclusions" about all "material issues of fact [and] law"; it also must include the "appropriate order, sanction, relief, or denial thereof." § 201.360(b). The Commission can then review the ALJ's decision, either upon request or sua sponte . See § 201.360(d)(1). But if it opts against review, the Commission "issue[s] an order that the [ALJ's] decision has become final." § 201.360(d)(2). At that point, the initial decision is "deemed the action of the Commission." § 78d-1(c).

This case began when the SEC instituted an administrative proceeding against petitioner Raymond Lucia and his investment company. Lucia marketed a retirement savings strategy called "Buckets of Money." In the SEC's view, Lucia used misleading slideshow presentations to deceive prospective clients. The SEC charged Lucia under the Investment Advisers Act, § 80b-1 et seq., and assigned *2050ALJ Cameron Elliot to adjudicate the case. After nine days of testimony and argument, Judge Elliot issued an initial decision concluding that Lucia had violated the Act and imposing sanctions, including civil penalties of $300,000 and a lifetime bar from the investment industry. In his decision, Judge Elliot made factual findings about only one of the four ways the SEC thought Lucia's slideshow misled investors. The Commission thus remanded for factfinding on the other three claims, explaining that an ALJ's "personal experience with the witnesses" places him "in the best position to make findings of fact" and "resolve any conflicts in the evidence." App. to Pet. for Cert. 241a. Judge Elliot then made additional findings of deception and issued a revised initial decision, with the same sanctions. See id., at 118a.

On appeal to the SEC, Lucia argued that the administrative proceeding was invalid because Judge Elliot had not been constitutionally appointed. According to Lucia, the Commission's ALJs are "Officers of the United States" and thus subject to the Appointments Clause. Under that Clause, Lucia noted, only the President, "Courts of Law," or "Heads of Departments" can appoint "Officers." See Art. II, § 2, cl. 2. And none of those actors had made Judge Elliot an ALJ. To be sure, the Commission itself counts as a "Head[ ] of Department[ ]." Ibid .; see Free Enterprise Fund v. Public Company Accounting Oversight Bd., 561 U.S. 477, 511-513, 130 S.Ct. 3138, 177 L.Ed.2d 706 (2010). But the Commission had left the task of appointing ALJs, including Judge Elliot, to SEC staff members. See supra, at 2049. As a result, Lucia contended, Judge Elliot lacked constitutional authority to do his job.

The Commission rejected Lucia's argument. It held that the SEC's ALJs are not "Officers of the United States." Instead, they are "mere employees"-officials with lesser responsibilities who fall outside the Appointments Clause's ambit. App. to Pet. for Cert. 87a. The Commission reasoned that its ALJs do not "exercise significant authority independent of [its own] supervision." Id., at 88a. Because that is so (said the SEC), they need no special, high-level appointment. See id., at 86a.

Lucia's claim fared no better in the Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit. A panel of that court seconded the Commission's view that SEC ALJs are employees rather than officers, and so are not subject to the Appointments Clause. See 832 F.3d 277, 283-289 (2016). Lucia then petitioned for rehearing en banc. The Court of Appeals granted that request and heard argument in the case. But the ten members of the en banc court divided evenly, resulting in a per curiam order denying Lucia's claim. See 868 F.3d 1021 (2017). That decision conflicted with one from the Court of Appeals for the Tenth Circuit. See Bandimere v. SEC, 844 F.3d 1168, 1179 (2016).

Lucia asked us to resolve the split by deciding whether the Commission's ALJs are "Officers of the United States within the meaning of the Appointments Clause." Pet. for Cert. i. Up to that point, the Federal Government (as represented by the Department of Justice) had defended the Commission's position that SEC ALJs are employees, not officers. But in responding to Lucia's petition, the Government switched sides.1 So when we *2051granted the petition, 583 U.S. ----, 138 S.Ct. 736, 199 L.Ed.2d 602 (2018), we also appointed an amicus curiae to defend the judgment below.2 We now reverse.

II

The sole question here is whether the Commission's ALJs are "Officers of the United States" or simply employees of the Federal Government. The Appointments Clause prescribes the exclusive means of appointing "Officers." Only the President, a court of law, or a head of department can do so. See Art. II, § 2, cl. 2.3 And as all parties agree, none of those actors appointed Judge Elliot before he heard Lucia's case; instead, SEC staff members gave him an ALJ slot. See Brief for Petitioners 15; Brief for United States 38; Brief for Court-Appointed Amicus Curiae 21. So if the Commission's ALJs are constitutional officers, Lucia raises a valid Appointments Clause claim. The only way to defeat his position is to show that those ALJs are not officers at all, but instead non-officer employees-part of the broad swath of "lesser functionaries" in the Government's workforce. Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1, 126, n. 162, 96 S.Ct. 612, 46 L.Ed.2d 659 (1976) (per curiam ). For if that is true, the Appointments Clause cares not a whit about who named them. See United States v. Germaine, 99 U.S. 508, 510, 25 L.Ed. 482 (1879).

Two decisions set out this Court's basic framework for distinguishing between officers and employees. Germaine held that "civil surgeons" (doctors hired to perform various physical exams) were mere employees because their duties were "occasional or temporary" rather than "continuing and permanent." Id., at 511-512. Stressing "ideas of tenure [and] duration," the Court there made clear that an individual must occupy a "continuing" position established by law to qualify as an officer. Id., at 511. Buckley then set out another requirement, central to this case. It determined that members of a federal commission were officers only after finding that they "exercis[ed] significant authority pursuant to the laws of the United States." 424 U.S., at 126, 96 S.Ct. 612. The inquiry thus focused on the extent of power an individual wields in carrying out his assigned functions.

Both the amicus and the Government urge us to elaborate on Buckley 's "significant authority" test, but another of our precedents makes that project unnecessary. The standard is no doubt framed in general terms, tempting advocates to add whatever glosses best suit their arguments. See Brief for Amicus Curiae 14 *2052(contending that an individual wields "significant authority" when he has "(i) the power to bind the government or private parties (ii) in her own name rather than in the name of a superior officer"); Reply Brief for United States 2 (countering that an individual wields that authority when he has "the power to bind the government or third parties on significant matters" or to undertake other "important and distinctively sovereign functions"). And maybe one day we will see a need to refine or enhance the test Buckley set out so concisely. But that day is not this one, because in Freytag v. Commissioner, 501 U.S. 868, 111 S.Ct. 2631, 115 L.Ed.2d 764 (1991), we applied the unadorned "significant authority" test to adjudicative officials who are near-carbon copies of the Commission's ALJs. As we now explain, our analysis there (sans any more detailed legal criteria) necessarily decides this case.

The officials at issue in Freytag were the "special trial judges" (STJs) of the United States Tax Court. The authority of those judges depended on the significance of the tax dispute before them. In "comparatively narrow and minor matters," they could both hear and definitively resolve a case for the Tax Court. Id ., at 873, 111 S.Ct. 2631. In more major matters, they could preside over the hearing, but could not issue the final decision; instead, they were to "prepare proposed findings and an opinion" for a regular Tax Court judge to consider. Ibid. The proceeding challenged in Freytag was a major one, involving $1.5 billion in alleged tax deficiencies. See id., at 871, n. 1, 111 S.Ct. 2631. After conducting a 14-week trial, the STJ drafted a proposed decision in favor of the Government. A regular judge then adopted the STJ's work as the opinion of the Tax Court. See id., at 872, 111 S.Ct. 2631. The losing parties argued on appeal that the STJ was not constitutionally appointed.

This Court held that the Tax Court's STJs are officers, not mere employees. Citing Germaine, the Court first found that STJs hold a continuing office established by law. See 501 U.S., at 881, 111 S.Ct. 2631. They serve on an ongoing, rather than a "temporary [or] episodic [,] basis"; and their "duties, salary, and means of appointment" are all specified in the Tax Code. Ibid. The Court then considered, as Buckley demands, the "significance" of the "authority" STJs wield. 501 U.S., at 881, 111 S.Ct. 2631. In addressing that issue, the Government had argued that STJs are employees, rather than officers, in all cases (like the one at issue) in which they could not "enter a final decision." Ibid. But the Court thought the Government's focus on finality "ignore[d] the significance of the duties and discretion that [STJs] possess." Ibid. Describing the responsibilities involved in presiding over adversarial hearings, the Court said: STJs "take testimony, conduct trials, rule on the admissibility of evidence, and have the power to enforce compliance with discovery orders." Id., at 881-882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. And the Court observed that "[i]n the course of carrying out these important functions, the [STJs] exercise significant discretion." Id., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. That fact meant they were officers, even when their decisions were not final.4

*2053Freytag says everything necessary to decide this case. To begin, the Commission's ALJs, like the Tax Court's STJs, hold a continuing office established by law. See id ., at 881, 111 S.Ct. 2631. Indeed, everyone here-Lucia, the Government, and the amicus -agrees on that point. See Brief for Petitioners 21; Brief for United States 17-18, n. 3; Brief for Amicus Curiae 22, n. 7. Far from serving temporarily or episodically, SEC ALJs "receive[ ] a career appointment." 5 C.F.R. § 930.204(a) (2018). And that appointment is to a position created by statute, down to its "duties, salary, and means of appointment." Freytag, 501 U.S., at 878, 111 S.Ct. 2631 ; see 5 U.S.C. §§ 556 - 557, 5372, 3105.

Still more, the Commission's ALJs exercise the same "significant discretion" when carrying out the same "important functions" as STJs do. Freytag, 501 U.S., at 878, 111 S.Ct. 2631. Both sets of officials have all the authority needed to ensure fair and orderly adversarial hearings-indeed, nearly all the tools of federal trial judges. See Butz, 438 U.S., at 513, 98 S.Ct. 2894 ; supra, at 2049 - 2050. Consider in order the four specific (if overlapping) powers Freytag mentioned. First, the Commission's ALJs (like the Tax Court's STJs) "take testimony." 501 U.S., at 881, 111 S.Ct. 2631. More precisely, they "[r]eceiv[e] evidence" and "[e]xamine witnesses" at hearings, and may also take pre-hearing depositions. 17 C.F.R. §§ 201.111(c), 200.14(a)(4) ; see 5 U.S.C. § 556(c)(4). Second, the ALJs (like STJs) "conduct trials." 501 U.S., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. As detailed earlier, they administer oaths, rule on motions, and generally "regulat[e] the course of" a hearing, as well as the conduct of parties and counsel. § 201.111 ; see §§ 200.14(a)(1), (a)(7) ; supra, at 2049 -2050. Third, the ALJs (like STJs) "rule on the admissibility of evidence." 501 U.S., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631 ; see § 201.111(c). They thus critically shape the administrative record (as they also do when issuing document subpoenas). See § 201.111(b). And fourth, the ALJs (like STJs) "have the power to enforce compliance with discovery orders." 501 U.S., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. In particular, they may punish all "[c]ontemptuous conduct," including violations of those orders, by means as severe as excluding the offender from the hearing. See § 201.180(a)(1). So point for point-straight from Freytag 's list-the Commission's ALJs have equivalent duties and powers as STJs in conducting adversarial inquiries.

And at the close of those proceedings, ALJs issue decisions much like that in Freytag -except with potentially more independent effect. As the Freytag Court recounted, STJs "prepare proposed findings and an opinion" adjudicating charges and assessing tax liabilities. 501 U.S., at 873, 111 S.Ct. 2631 ; see supra, at 2052. Similarly, the Commission's ALJs issue decisions containing factual findings, legal conclusions, and appropriate remedies. See § 201.360(b) ; supra, at 2049 - 2050. And what happens next reveals that the ALJ can play the more autonomous role. In a major case like Freytag, a regular Tax Court judge must always review an *2054STJ's opinion. And that opinion counts for nothing unless the regular judge adopts it as his own. See 501 U.S., at 873, 111 S.Ct. 2631. By contrast, the SEC can decide against reviewing an ALJ decision at all. And when the SEC declines review (and issues an order saying so), the ALJ's decision itself "becomes final" and is "deemed the action of the Commission." § 201.360(d)(2) ; 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(c) ; see supra, at 2049 - 2050. That last-word capacity makes this an a fortiori case: If the Tax Court's STJs are officers, as Freytag held, then the Commission's ALJs must be too.

The amicus offers up two distinctions to support the opposite conclusion. His main argument relates to "the power to enforce compliance with discovery orders"-the fourth of Freytag 's listed functions. 501 U.S., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. The Tax Court's STJs, he states, had that power "because they had authority to punish contempt" (including discovery violations) through fines or imprisonment. Brief for Amicus Curiae 37; see id., at 37, n. 10 (citing 26 U.S.C. § 7456(c) ). By contrast, he observes, the Commission's ALJs have less capacious power to sanction misconduct. The amicus 's secondary distinction involves how the Tax Court and Commission, respectively, review the factfinding of STJs and ALJs. The Tax Court's rules state that an STJ's findings of fact "shall be presumed" correct. Tax Court Rule 183(d). In comparison, the amicus notes, the SEC's regulations include no such deferential standard. See Brief for Amicus Curiae 10, 38, n. 11.

But those distinctions make no difference for officer status. To start with the amicus 's primary point, Freytag referenced only the general "power to enforce compliance with discovery orders," not any particular method of doing so. 501 U.S., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. True enough, the power to toss malefactors in jail is an especially muscular means of enforcement-the nuclear option of compliance tools. But just as armies can often enforce their will through conventional weapons, so too can administrative judges. As noted earlier, the Commission's ALJs can respond to discovery violations and other contemptuous conduct by excluding the wrongdoer (whether party or lawyer) from the proceedings-a powerful disincentive to resist a court order. See § 201.180(a)(1)(i) ; supra, at 2053 - 2054. Similarly, if the offender is an attorney, the ALJ can "[s]ummarily suspend" him from representing his client-not something the typical lawyer wants to invite. § 201.180(a)(1)(ii). And finally, a judge who will, in the end, issue an opinion complete with factual findings, legal conclusions, and sanctions has substantial informal power to ensure the parties stay in line. Contrary to the amicus 's view, all that is enough to satisfy Freytag 's fourth item (even supposing, which we do not decide, that each of those items is necessary for someone conducting adversarial hearings to count as an officer).

And the amicus 's standard-of-review distinction fares just as badly. The Freytag Court never suggested that the deference given to STJs' factual findings mattered to its Appointments Clause analysis. Indeed, the relevant part of Freytag did not so much as mention the subject (even though it came up at oral argument, see Tr. of Oral Arg. 33-41). And anyway, the Commission often accords a similar deference to its ALJs, even if not by regulation. The Commission has repeatedly stated, as it did below, that its ALJs are in the "best position to make findings of fact" and "resolve any conflicts in the evidence." App. to Pet. for Cert. 241a (quoting In re Nasdaq Stock Market, LLC, SEC Release No. 57741 (Apr. 30, 2008) ). (That was why the SEC insisted that Judge Elliot make factual *2055findings on all four allegations of Lucia's deception. See supra, at 2050.) And when factfinding derives from credibility judgments, as it frequently does, acceptance is near-automatic. Recognizing ALJs' "personal experience with the witnesses," the Commission adopts their "credibility finding[s] absent overwhelming evidence to the contrary." App. to Pet. for Cert. 241a; In re Clawson, SEC Release No. 48143 (July 9, 2003). That practice erases the constitutional line the amicus proposes to draw.

The only issue left is remedial. For all the reasons we have given, and all those Freytag gave before, the Commission's ALJs are "Officers of the United States," subject to the Appointments Clause. And as noted earlier, Judge Elliot heard and decided Lucia's case without the kind of appointment the Clause requires. See supra, at 2051. This Court has held that "one who makes a timely challenge to the constitutional validity of the appointment of an officer who adjudicates his case" is entitled to relief. Ryder v. United States, 515 U.S. 177, 182-183, 115 S.Ct. 2031, 132 L.Ed.2d 136 (1995). Lucia made just such a timely challenge: He contested the validity of Judge Elliot's appointment before the Commission, and continued pressing that claim in the Court of Appeals and this Court. So what relief follows? This Court has also held that the "appropriate" remedy for an adjudication tainted with an appointments violation is a new "hearing before a properly appointed" official. Id., at 183, 188, 115 S.Ct. 2031. And we add today one thing more. That official cannot be Judge Elliot, even if he has by now received (or receives sometime in the future) a constitutional appointment. Judge Elliot has already both heard Lucia's case and issued an initial decision on the merits. He cannot be expected to consider the matter as though he had not adjudicated it before.5 To cure the constitutional error, another ALJ (or the Commission itself) must hold the new hearing to which Lucia is entitled.6

*2056We accordingly reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals and remand the case for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

I agree with the Court that this case is indistinguishable from Freytag v. Commissioner, 501 U.S. 868, 111 S.Ct. 2631, 115 L.Ed.2d 764 (1991). If the special trial judges in Freytag were "Officers of the United States," Art. II, § 2, cl. 2, then so are the administrative law judges of the Securities and Exchange Commission. Moving forward, however, this Court will not be able to decide every Appointments Clause case by comparing it to Freytag . And, as the Court acknowledges, our precedents in this area do not provide much guidance. See ante, at 2051 - 2052. While precedents like Freytag discuss what is sufficient to make someone an officer of the United States, our precedents have never clearly defined what is necessary . I would resolve that question based on the original public meaning of "Officers of the United States." To the Founders, this term encompassed all federal civil officials " 'with responsibility for an ongoing statutory duty.' " NLRB v. SW General, Inc., 580 U.S. ----, ----, 137 S.Ct. 929, 946, 197 L.Ed.2d 263 (2017) (THOMAS, J., concurring); Mascott, Who Are "Officers of the United States"? 70 Stan. L. Rev. 443, 564 (2018) (Mascott).1

The Appointments Clause provides the exclusive process for appointing "Officers of the United States." See SW General, supra, at ----, 137 S.Ct., at 945 (opinion of THOMAS, J.). While principal officers must be nominated by the President and confirmed by the Senate, Congress can authorize the appointment of "inferior Officers" by "the President alone," "the Courts of Law," or "the Heads of Departments." Art. II, § 2, cl. 2.

This alternative process for appointing inferior officers strikes a balance between efficiency and accountability. Given the sheer number of inferior officers, it would be too burdensome to require each of them to run the gauntlet of Senate confirmation. See United States v. Germaine, 99 U.S. 508, 509-510, 25 L.Ed. 482 (1879) ; 2 Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, pp. 627-628 (M. Farrand ed. 1911). But, by specifying only a limited number of actors who can appoint inferior officers without Senate confirmation, the Appointments Clause maintains clear lines of accountability-encouraging good appointments and giving the public someone to blame for bad ones. See The Federalist No. 76, p. 455 (C. Rossiter ed. 1961) (A. Hamilton); Wilson, Lectures on Law: Government, in 1 The Works of James Wilson 343, 359-361 (J. Andrews ed., 1896).

The Founders likely understood the term "Officers of the United States" to encompass all federal civil officials who perform an ongoing, statutory duty-no matter how important or significant the duty. See Mascott 454. "Officers of the United States" was probably not a term of art that the Constitution used to signify some special type of official. Based on how the Founders used it and similar terms, the phrase "of the United States" was merely a synonym for "federal," and *2057the word "Office[r]" carried its ordinary meaning. See id., at 471-479. The ordinary meaning of "officer" was anyone who performed a continuous public duty. See id., at 484-507 ; e.g., United States v. Maurice, 26 F.Cas. 1211, 1214 (No. 15,747) (C.C.D.Va.1823) (defining officer as someone in " 'a public charge or employment' " who performed a "continuing" duty); 8 Annals of Cong. 2304-2305 (1799) (statement of Rep. Harper) (explaining that the word officer "is derived from the Latin word officium " and "includes all persons holding posts which require the performance of some public duty"). For federal officers, that duty is "established by Law"-that is, by statute. Art. II, § 2, cl. 2. The Founders considered individuals to be officers even if they performed only ministerial statutory duties-including recordkeepers, clerks, and tidewaiters (individuals who watched goods land at a customhouse). See Mascott 484-507. Early congressional practice reflected this understanding. With exceptions not relevant here,2 Congress required all federal officials with ongoing statutory duties to be appointed in compliance with the Appointments Clause. See id., at 507-545.

Applying the original meaning here, the administrative law judges of the Securities and Exchange Commission easily qualify as "Officers of the United States." These judges exercise many of the agency's statutory duties, including issuing initial decisions in adversarial proceedings. See 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(a) ; 17 C.F.R. §§ 200.14, 200.30-9 (2017). As explained, the importance or significance of these statutory duties is irrelevant. All that matters is that the judges are continuously responsible for performing them.

In short, the administrative law judges of the Securities Exchange Commission are "Officers of the United States" under the original meaning of the Appointments Clause. They have " 'responsibility for an ongoing statutory duty,' " which is sufficient to resolve this case. SW General, 580 U.S., at ----, 137 S.Ct., at 946 (opinion of THOMAS, J.). Because the Court reaches the same conclusion by correctly applying Freytag, I join its opinion.

I agree with the Court that the Securities and Exchange Commission did not properly appoint the Administrative Law Judge who presided over petitioner Lucia's hearing. But I disagree with the majority in respect to two matters. First, I would rest our conclusion upon statutory, not constitutional, grounds. I believe it important to do so because I cannot answer the constitutional question that the majority answers without knowing the answer to a different, embedded constitutional question, which the Solicitor General urged us to answer in this case: the constitutionality of the statutory "for cause" removal protections that Congress provided for administrative law judges. Cf. Free Enterprise Fund v. Public Company Accounting Oversight Bd., 561 U.S. 477, 130 S.Ct. 3138, 177 L.Ed.2d 706 (2010). Second, I disagree with the Court in respect to the proper remedy.

I

The relevant statute here is the Administrative Procedure Act. That Act governs *2058the appointment of administrative law judges. It provides (as it has, in substance, since its enactment in 1946) that "[e]ach agency shall appoint as many administrative law judges as are necessary for" hearings governed by the Administrative Procedure Act. 5 U.S.C. § 3105 ; see also Administrative Procedure Act, § 11, 60 Stat. 244 (original version, which refers to "examiners" as administrative law judges were then called). In the case of the Securities and Exchange Commission, the relevant "agency" is the Commission itself. But the Commission did not appoint the Administrative Law Judge who presided over Lucia's hearing. Rather, the Commission's staff appointed that Administrative Law Judge, without the approval of the Commissioners themselves. See ante, at 2049; App. to Pet. for Cert. 298a-299a.

I do not believe that the Administrative Procedure Act permits the Commission to delegate its power to appoint its administrative law judges to its staff. We have held that, for purposes of the Constitution's Appointments Clause, the Commission itself is a " 'Hea[d]' " of a " 'Departmen[t].' " Free Enterprise Fund, supra, at 512-513, 130 S.Ct. 3138. Thus, reading the statute as referring to the Commission itself, and not to its staff, avoids a difficult constitutional question, namely, the very question that the Court answers today: whether the Commission's administrative law judges are constitutional "inferior Officers" whose appointment Congress may vest only in the President, the "Courts of Law," or the "Heads of Departments." Art. II, § 2, cl. 2 ; see United States v. Jin Fuey Moy, 241 U.S. 394, 401, 36 S.Ct. 658, 60 L.Ed. 1061 (1916) ("A statute must be construed, if fairly possible, so as to avoid not only the conclusion that it is unconstitutional but also grave doubts upon that score").

I have found no other statutory provision that would permit the Commission to delegate the power to appoint its administrative law judges to its staff. The statute establishing and governing the Commission does allow the Commission to "delegate, by published order or rule, any of its functions to a division of the Commission, an individual Commissioner, an administrative law judge, or an employee or employee board." 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(a). But this provision requires a "published order or rule," and the Commission here published no relevant delegating order or rule. Rather, Lucia discovered the Commission's appointment system for administrative law judges only when the Commission's enforcement division staff filed an affidavit in this case describing that staff-based system. See App. to Pet. for Cert. 295a-299a. Regardless, the same constitutional-avoidance reasons that should inform our construction of the Administrative Procedure Act should also lead us to interpret the Commission's general delegation authority as excluding the power to delegate to staff the authority to appoint its administrative law judges, so as to avoid the constitutional question the Court reaches in this case. See Jin Fuey Moy, supra, at 401, 36 S.Ct. 658.

The analysis may differ for other agencies that employ administrative law judges. Each agency's governing statute is different, and some, unlike the Commission's, may allow the delegation of duties without a published order or rule. See, e.g., 42 U.S.C. § 902(a)(7) (applicable to the Social Security Administration). Similarly, other agencies' administrative law judges perform distinct functions, and their means of appointment may therefore not raise the constitutional questions that inform my reading of the relevant statutes here.

The upshot, in my view, is that for statutory, not constitutional, reasons, the Commission *2059did not lawfully appoint the Administrative Law Judge here at issue. And this Court should decide no more than that.

II

A

The reason why it is important to go no further arises from the holding in a case this Court decided eight years ago, Free Enterprise Fund, supra . The case concerned statutory provisions protecting members of the Public Company Accounting Oversight Board from removal without cause. The Court held in that case that the Executive Vesting Clause of the Constitution, Art. II, § 1 ("[t]he executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America"), forbade Congress from providing members of the Board with "multilevel protection from removal" by the President. Free Enterprise Fund, 561 U.S., at 484, 130 S.Ct. 3138 ; see id., at 514, 130 S.Ct. 3138 ("Congress cannot limit the President's authority" by providing "two levels of protection from removal for those who ... exercise significant executive power"). But see id., at 514-549, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting). Because, in the Court's view, the relevant statutes (1) granted the Securities and Exchange Commissioners protection from removal without cause, (2) gave the Commissioners sole authority to remove Board members, and (3) protected Board members from removal without cause, the statutes provided Board members with two levels of protection from removal and consequently violated the Constitution. Id., at 495-498, 130 S.Ct. 3138.

In addressing the constitutionality of the Board members' removal protections, the Court emphasized that the Board members were "executive officers"-more specifically, "inferior officers" for purposes of the Appointments Clause. E.g., id., at 492-495, 504-505, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The significance of that fact to the Court's analysis is not entirely clear. The Court said:

"The parties here concede that Board members are executive 'Officers', as that term is used in the Constitution. We do not decide the status of other Government employees, nor do we decide whether 'lesser functionaries subordinate to officers of the United States' must be subject to the same sort of control as those who exercise 'significant authority pursuant to the laws.' " Id., at 506, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (quoting Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1, 126, and n. 162, 96 S.Ct. 612, 46 L.Ed.2d 659 (1976) (per curiam ); citations omitted).

Thus, the Court seemed not only to limit its holding to the Board members themselves, but also to suggest that Government employees who were not officers would be distinguishable from the Board members on that ground alone.

For present purposes, however, the implications of Free Enterprise Fund 's technical-sounding holding about "multilevel protection from removal" remain potentially dramatic. 561 U.S., at 484, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The same statute, the Administrative Procedure Act, that provides that the "agency" will appoint its administrative law judges also protects the administrative law judges from removal without cause. In particular, the statute says that an

"action may be taken against an administrative law judge appointed under section 3105 of this title by the agency in which the administrative law judge is employed only for good cause established and determined by the Merit Systems Protection Board on the record after opportunity for hearing before the Board." 5 U.S.C. § 7521(a).

*2060As with appointments, this provision constituted an important part of the Administrative Procedure Act when it was originally enacted in 1946. See § 11, 60 Stat. 244.

The Administrative Procedure Act thus allows administrative law judges to be removed only "for good cause" found by the Merit Systems Protection Board. § 7521(a). And the President may, in turn, remove members of the Merit Systems Protection Board only for "inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office." § 1202(d). Thus, Congress seems to have provided administrative law judges with two levels of protection from removal without cause-just what Free Enterprise Fund interpreted the Constitution to forbid in the case of the Board members.

The substantial independence that the Administrative Procedure Act's removal protections provide to administrative law judges is a central part of the Act's overall scheme. See Ramspeck v. Federal Trial Examiners Conference, 345 U.S. 128, 130, 73 S.Ct. 570, 97 L.Ed. 872 (1953) ; Wong Yang Sung v. McGrath, 339 U.S. 33, 46, 70 S.Ct. 445, 94 L.Ed. 616 (1950). Before the Administrative Procedure Act, hearing examiners "were in a dependent status" to their employing agency, with their classification, compensation, and promotion all dependent on how the agency they worked for rated them. Ramspeck, 345 U.S., at 130, 73 S.Ct. 570. As a result of that dependence, "[m]any complaints were voiced against the actions of the hearing examiners, it being charged that they were mere tools of the agency concerned and subservient to the agency heads in making their proposed findings of fact and recommendations." Id., at 131, 73 S.Ct. 570. The Administrative Procedure Act responded to those complaints by giving administrative law judges "independence and tenure within the existing Civil Service system." Id., at 132, 73 S.Ct. 570 ; cf. Wong Yang Sung, supra, at 41-46, 70 S.Ct. 445 (referring to removal protections as among the Administrative Procedure Act's "safeguards ... intended to ameliorate" the perceived "evils" of commingling of adjudicative and prosecutorial functions in agencies).

If the Free Enterprise Fund Court's holding applies equally to the administrative law judges-and I stress the "if"-then to hold that the administrative law judges are "Officers of the United States" is, perhaps, to hold that their removal protections are unconstitutional. This would risk transforming administrative law judges from independent adjudicators into dependent decisionmakers, serving at the pleasure of the Commission. Similarly, to apply Free Enterprise Fund 's holding to high-level civil servants threatens to change the nature of our merit-based civil service as it has existed from the time of President Chester Alan Arthur. See Free Enterprise Fund, 561 U.S., at 540-542, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting).

I have stressed the words "if" and "perhaps" in the previous paragraph because Free Enterprise Fund 's holding may not invalidate the removal protections applicable to the Commission's administrative law judges even if the judges are inferior "officers of the United States" for purposes of the Appointments Clause. In my dissent in Free Enterprise Fund, I pointed out that under the majority's analysis, the removal protections applicable to administrative law judges-including specifically the Commission's administrative law judges-would seem to be unconstitutional. Id., at 542, 587, 130 S.Ct. 3138. But the Court disagreed, saying that "none of the positions [my dissent] identifie[d] are similarly situated to the Board." Id., at 506, 130 S.Ct. 3138.

The Free Enterprise Fund Court gave three reasons why administrative law *2061judges were distinguishable from the Board members at issue in that case. First, the Court said that "[w]hether administrative law judges are necessarily 'Officers of the United States' is disputed." Id., at 507, n. 10, 130 S.Ct. 3138. Second, the Court said that "unlike members of the Board, many administrative law judges of course perform adjudicative rather than enforcement or policymaking functions, see [ 5 U.S.C.] §§ 554(d), 3105, or possess purely recommendatory powers." Ibid. And, third, the Court pointed out that the civil service "employees" and administrative law judges to whom I referred in my dissent do not "enjoy the same significant and unusual protections from Presidential oversight as members of the Board." Id., at 506, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The Court added that the kind of "for cause" protection the statutes provided for Board members was "unusually high." Id., at 503, 130 S.Ct. 3138.

The majority here removes the first distinction, for it holds that the Commission's administrative law judges are inferior "Officers of the United States." Ante, at 2049. The other two distinctions remain. See, e.g., Wiener v. United States, 357 U.S. 349, 355-356, 78 S.Ct. 1275, 2 L.Ed.2d 1377 (1958) (holding that Congress is free to protect bodies tasked with " 'adjudicat[ing] according to law' ... 'from the control or coercive influence, direct or indirect,' ... of either the Executive or Congress") (quoting Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U.S. 602, 629, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935) ). But the Solicitor General has nevertheless argued strongly that we should now decide the constitutionality of the administrative law judges' removal protections as well as their means of appointment. And in his view, the administrative law judges' statutory removal protections violate the Constitution (as interpreted in Free Enterprise Fund ), unless we construe those protections as giving the Commission substantially greater power to remove administrative law judges than it presently has. See Merits Brief for Respondent 45-55.

On the Solicitor General's account, for the administrative law judges' removal protections to be constitutional, the Commission itself must have the power to remove administrative law judges "for failure to follow lawful instructions or perform adequately." Id., at 48. The Merit Systems Protection Board would then review only the Commission's factfinding, and not whether the facts (as found) count as "good cause" for removal. Id., at 52-53. This technical-sounding standard would seem to weaken the administrative law judges' "for cause" removal protections considerably, by permitting the Commission to remove an administrative law judge with whose judgments it disagrees-say, because the judge did not find a securities-law violation where the Commission thought there was one, or vice versa. In such cases, the law allows the Commission to overrule an administrative law judge's findings, for the decision is ultimately the Commission's. See 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(b). But it does not allow the Commission to fire the administrative law judge. See 5 U.S.C. § 7521.

And now it should be clear why the application of Free Enterprise Fund to administrative law judges is important. If that decision does not limit or forbid Congress' statutory "for cause" protections, then a holding that the administrative law judges are "inferior Officers" does not conflict with Congress' intent as revealed in the statute. But, if the holding is to the contrary, and more particularly if a holding that administrative law judges are "inferior Officers" brings with it application of Free Enterprise Fund ' s limitation on "for cause" protections from removal, then a determination that administrative law *2062judges are, constitutionally speaking, "inferior Officers" would directly conflict with Congress' intent, as revealed in the statute. In that case, it would be clear to me that Congress did not intend that consequence, and that it therefore did not intend to make administrative law judges "inferior Officers" at all.

B

Congress' intent on the question matters, in my view, because the Appointments Clause is properly understood to grant Congress a degree of leeway as to whether particular Government workers are officers or instead mere employees not subject to the Appointments Clause. The words "by Law" appear twice in the Clause. It says that the President ("with the Advice and Consent of the Senate") shall appoint "Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, ... which shall be established by Law ." Art. II, § 2, cl. 2 (emphasis added). It then adds that "Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments." Ibid. (emphasis added).

The use of the words "by Law" to describe the establishment and means of appointment of "Officers of the United States," together with the fact that Article I of the Constitution vests the legislative power in Congress, suggests that (other than the officers the Constitution specifically lists) Congress, not the Judicial Branch alone, must play a major role in determining who is an "Office[r] of the United States." And Congress' intent in this specific respect is often highly relevant. Congress' leeway is not, of course, absolute-it may not, for example, say that positions the Constitution itself describes as "Officers" are not "Officers." But given the constitutional language, the Court, when deciding whether other positions are "Officers of the United States" under the Appointments Clause, should give substantial weight to Congress' decision.

How is the Court to decide whether Congress intended that the holder of a particular Government position count as an "Office[r] of the United States"? Congress might, of course, write explicitly into the statute that the employee "is an officer of the United States under the Appointments Clause," but an explicit phrase of this kind is unlikely to appear. If it does not, then I would approach the question like any other difficult question of statutory interpretation. Several considerations, among others, are likely to be relevant. First, as the Court said in Freytag v. Commissioner, 501 U.S. 868, 881, 111 S.Ct. 2631, 115 L.Ed.2d 764 (1991), and repeats today, ante, at 2051 - 2052, where Congress grants an appointee " 'significant authority pursuant to the laws to the United States,' " that supports the view that (but should not determinatively decide that) Congress made that appointee an "Office [r] of the United States." Freytag, supra, at 881, 111 S.Ct. 2631 (quoting Buckley, 424 U.S., at 126, 96 S.Ct. 612 ); see also United States v. Germaine, 99 U.S. 508, 511, 25 L.Ed. 482 (1879) (holding that the term "officer" "embraces the ideas of tenure, duration, emolument, and duties"). The means of appointment that Congress chooses is also instructive. Where Congress provides a method of appointment that mimics a method the Appointments Clause allows for "Officers," that fact too supports the view that (but does not determinatively decide that) Congress viewed the position as one to be held by an "Officer," and vice versa. See id., at 509-511. And the Court's decision in Free Enterprise Fund suggests a third indication of "Officer" status-did Congress provide *2063the position with removal protections that would be unconstitutional if provided for an " Officer"? See 561 U.S., at 514, 130 S.Ct. 3138. That fact would support (but again not be determinative of) the opposite view-that Congress did not intend to confer "inferior Officer" status on the position.

As I said, these statutory features, while highly relevant, need not always prove determinative. The vast number of different civil service positions, with different tasks, different needs, and different requirements for independence, mean that this is not the place to lay down bright-line rules. Rather, as this Court has said, "[t]he versatility of circumstances often mocks a natural desire for definitiveness" in this area. Wiener, 357 U.S., at 352, 78 S.Ct. 1275.

No case from this Court holds that Congress lacks this sort of constitutional leeway in determining whether a particular Government position will be filled by an "Office[r] of the United States." To the contrary, while we have repeatedly addressed whether particular officials are "Officers," in all cases but one, we have upheld the appointment procedures Congress enacted as consistent with the Appointments Clause. See, e.g., Edmond v. United States, 520 U.S. 651, 666, 117 S.Ct. 1573, 137 L.Ed.2d 917 (1997) (holding that Congress' appointment procedure for military court judges "is in conformity with the Appointments Clause of the Constitution"); Freytag,supra, at 888-891, 111 S.Ct. 2631 (same as to special trial judges of the Tax Court); Rice v. Ames, 180 U.S. 371, 378, 21 S.Ct. 406, 45 L.Ed. 577 (1901) (same as to district court "commissioners"); Ex parte Siebold, 100 U.S. 371, 397-398, 25 L.Ed. 717 (1880) (same as to "supervisors of election"). But see Buckley, supra, at 124-137, 96 S.Ct. 612

The one exception was Buckley, 424 U.S., at 124-137, 96 S.Ct. 612, in which the Court set aside Congress' prescribed appointment method for some members of the Federal Election Commission-appointment by Congress itself-as inconsistent with the Appointments Clause. But Buckley involved Federal Election Commission members with enormous powers. They had "primary and substantial responsibility for administering and enforcing the" Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971, id., at 109, 96 S.Ct. 612 an "intricate statutory scheme ... to regulate federal election campaigns," id., at 12, 96 S.Ct. 612. They had "extensive rulemaking and adjudicative powers," id., at 110, 96 S.Ct. 612 ; the power to enforce the law through civil lawsuits, id., at 111, 96 S.Ct. 612 ; and the power to disqualify a candidate from running for federal office, id., at 112-113, 96 S.Ct. 612. Federal Election Commissioners thus had powers akin to the "principal Officer[s]" of an Executive Department, whom the Constitution expressly refers to as "Officers," see Art. II, § 2, cl. 1. It is not surprising that Congress exceeded any leeway the Appointments Clause granted when it deviated from the Clause's appointments' methods in respect to an office with powers very similar to those of the Officers listed in the Constitution itself.

Thus, neither Buckley nor any other case forecloses an interpretation of the Appointments Clause that focuses principally on whether the relevant statutes show that Congress intended that a particular Government position be held by an "Office[r] of the United States." Adopting such an approach, I would not answer the question whether the Securities and Exchange Commission's administrative law judges are constitutional "Officers" without first deciding the pre-existing Free Enterprise Fund question-namely, what effect that holding would have on the statutory "for cause" removal protections that Congress provided for administrative *2064law judges. If, for example, Free Enterprise Fund means that saying administrative law judges are "inferior Officers" will cause them to lose their "for cause" removal protections, then I would likely hold that the administrative law judges are not "Officers," for to say otherwise would be to contradict Congress' enactment of those protections in the Administrative Procedure Act. In contrast, if Free Enterprise Fund does not mean that an administrative law judge (if an "Office[r] of the United States") would lose "for cause" protections, then it is more likely that interpreting the Administrative Procedure Act as conferring such status would not run contrary to Congress' intent. In such a case, I would more likely hold that, given the other features of the Administrative Procedure Act, Congress did intend to make administrative law judges inferior "Officers of the United States."

III

Separately, I also disagree with the majority's conclusion that the proper remedy in this case requires a hearing before a different administrative law judge. Ante, at 2055 - 2056. The Securities and Exchange Commission has now itself appointed the Administrative Law Judge in question, and I see no reason why he could not rehear the case. After all, when a judge is reversed on appeal and a new trial ordered, typically the judge who rehears the case is the same judge who heard it the first time. The reversal here is based on a technical constitutional question, and the reversal implies no criticism at all of the original judge or his ability to conduct the new proceedings. For him to preside once again would not violate the structural purposes that we have said the Appointments Clause serves, see Freytag, 501 U.S., at 878, 111 S.Ct. 2631, nor would it, in any obvious way, violate the Due Process Clause.

Regardless, this matter was not addressed below and has not been fully argued here. I would, at a minimum, ask the Court of Appeals to examine it on remand rather than decide it here now. That is especially so because the majority seems to state a general rule that a different "Officer" must always preside after an Appointments Clause violation. In a case like this one, that is a relatively minor imposition, because the Commission has other administrative law judges. But in other cases-say, a case adjudicated by an improperly appointed (but since reappointed) Commission itself-the "Officer" in question may be the only such "Officer," so that no substitute will be available. The majority suggests that in such cases, the "rule of necessity" may excuse compliance with its newfound different-"Officer" requirement. Ante, at 2055, n. 5. But that still does not explain why the Constitution would require a hearing before a different "Officer" at all.

* * *

The Court's decision to address the Appointments Clause question separately from the constitutional removal question is problematic. By considering each question in isolation, the Court risks (should the Court later extend Free Enterprise Fund ) unraveling, step-by-step, the foundations of the Federal Government's administrative adjudication system as it has existed for decades, and perhaps of the merit-based civil-service system in general. And the Court risks doing so without considering that potential consequence. For these reasons, I concur in the judgment in part and, with respect, I dissent in part.

The Court today and scholars acknowledge that this Court's Appointments *2065Clause jurisprudence offers little guidance on who qualifies as an "Officer of the United States." See, e.g., ante, at 2051 ("The standard is no doubt framed in general terms, tempting advocates to add whatever glosses best suit their arguments"); Plecnik, Officers Under the Appointments Clause, 11 Pitt. Tax Rev. 201, 204 (2014). The lack of guidance is not without consequence. "[Q]uestions about the Clause continue to arise regularly both in the operation of the Executive Branch and in proposed legislation." 31 Opinion of Office of Legal Counsel 73, 76 (2007) (Op. OLC). This confusion can undermine the reliability and finality of proceedings and result in wasted resources. See ante, at 2055 - 2056 (opinion of the Court) (ordering the Commission to grant petitioners a new administrative hearing).

As the majority notes, see ante, at 2051 - 2052, this Court's decisions currently set forth at least two prerequisites to officer status: (1) an individual must hold a "continuing" office established by law, United States v. Germaine, 99 U.S. 508, 511-512, 25 L.Ed. 482 (1879), and (2) an individual must wield "significant authority," Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U.S. 1, 126, 96 S.Ct. 612, 46 L.Ed.2d 659 (1976) (per curiam ). The first requirement is relatively easy to grasp; the second, less so. To be sure, to exercise "significant authority," the person must wield considerable powers in comparison to the average person who works for the Federal Government. As this Court has noted, the vast majority of those who work for the Federal Government are not "Officers of the United States." See Free Enterprise Fund v. Public Company Accounting Oversight Bd., 561 U.S. 477, 506, n. 9, 130 S.Ct. 3138, 177 L.Ed.2d 706 (2010) (indicating that well over 90% of those who render services to the Federal Government and are paid by it are not constitutional officers). But this Court's decisions have yet to articulate the types of powers that will be deemed significant enough to constitute "significant authority."

To provide guidance to Congress and the Executive Branch, I would hold that one requisite component of "significant authority" is the ability to make final, binding decisions on behalf of the Government. Accordingly, a person who merely advises and provides recommendations to an officer would not herself qualify as an officer.

There is some historical support for such a requirement. For example, in 1822, the Supreme Judicial Court of Maine opined in the "fullest early explication" of the meaning of an " 'office,' " that " 'the term "office" implies a delegation of a portion of the sovereign power to, and possession of it by the person filling the office,' " that " 'in its effects[,] ... will bind the rights of others.' " 31 Op. OLC 83 (quoting 3 Greenl. (Me.) 481, 482). In 1899, a Report of the Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives noted that "the creation and conferring of an office involves a delegation to the individual of ... sovereign functions," i.e., "the power to ... legislate, ... execute law, or ... hear and determine judicially questions submitted." 1 A. Hinds, Precedents of the House of Representatives of the United States 607 (1907). Those who merely assist others in exercising sovereign functions but who do not have the authority to exercise sovereign powers themselves do not wield significant authority. Id., at 607-608. Consequently, a person who possesses the "mere power to investigate some particular subject and report thereon" or to engage in negotiations "without [the] power to make binding" commitments on behalf of the Government is not an officer. Ibid .

Confirming that final decisionmaking authority is a prerequisite to officer status would go a long way to aiding Congress *2066and the Executive Branch in sorting out who is an officer and who is a mere employee. At the threshold, Congress and the Executive Branch could rule out as an officer any person who investigates, advises, or recommends, but who has no power to issue binding policies, execute the laws, or finally resolve adjudicatory questions.

Turning to the question presented here, it is true that the administrative law judges (ALJs) of the Securities and Exchange Commission wield "extensive powers." Ante, at 2049. They preside over adversarial proceedings that can lead to the imposition of significant penalties on private parties. See ante, at 2049 - 2050 (noting that the proceedings in the present case resulted in the imposition of $300,000 in civil penalties, as well as a lifetime bar from the investment industry). In the hearings over which they preside, Commission ALJs also exercise discretion with respect to important matters. See ante, at 2049 - 2050 (discussing Commission ALJs' powers to supervise discovery, issue subpoenas, rule on the admissibility of evidence, hear and examine witnesses, and regulate the course of the proceedings).

Nevertheless, I would hold that Commission ALJs are not officers because they lack final decisionmaking authority. As the Commission explained below, the Commission retains " 'plenary authority over the course of [its] administrative proceedings and the rulings of [its] law judges.' " In re Raymond J. Lucia Companies, Inc. & Raymond J. Lucia, Sr., SEC Release No. 75837 (Sept. 3, 2015). Commission ALJs can issue only "initial" decisions. 5 U.S.C. § 557(b). The Commission can review any initial decision upon petition or on its own initiative. 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(b). The Commission's review of an ALJ's initial decision is de novo . 5 U.S.C. § 557(c). It can "make any findings or conclusions that in its judgment are proper and on the basis of the record." 17 C.F.R. § 201.411(a) (2017). The Commission is also in no way confined by the record initially developed by an ALJ. The Commission can accept evidence itself or refer a matter to an ALJ to take additional evidence that the Commission deems relevant or necessary. See ibid. ; § 201.452. In recent years, the Commission has accepted review in every case in which it was sought. See R. Jackson, Fact and Fiction: The SEC's Oversight of Administrative Law Judges (Mar. 9, 2018), http://clsbluesky.law.columbia.edu/2018/03/09/fact-and-fiction-the-secs-oversight-of-administrative-law-judges/ (as last visited June 19, 2018). Even where the Commission does not review an ALJ's initial decision, as in cases in which no party petitions for review and the Commission does not act sua sponte, the initial decision still only becomes final when the Commission enters a finality order. 17 C.F.R. § 201.360(d)(2). And by operation of law, every action taken by an ALJ "shall, for all purposes, ... be deemed the action of the Commission ." 15 U.S.C. § 78d-1(c) (emphasis added). In other words, Commission ALJs do not exercise significant authority because they do not, and cannot, enter final, binding decisions against the Government or third parties.

The majority concludes that this case is controlled by Freytag v. Commissioner, 501 U.S. 868, 111 S.Ct. 2631, 115 L.Ed.2d 764 (1991). See ante, at 2051 - 2052. In Freytag, the Court suggested that the Tax Court's special trial judges (STJs) acted as constitutional officers even in cases where they could not enter final, binding decisions. In such cases, the Court noted, the STJs presided over adversarial proceedings in which they exercised "significant discretion" with respect to "important functions," such as ruling on the admissibility of evidence and hearing and examining witnesses. 501 U.S., at 881-882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. That part of the opinion, however, *2067was unnecessary to the result. The Court went on to conclude that even if the STJs' duties in such cases were "not as significant as [the Court] found them to be," its conclusion "would be unchanged." Id., at 882, 111 S.Ct. 2631. The Court noted that STJs could enter final decisions in certain types of cases, and that the Government had conceded that the STJs acted as officers with respect to those proceedings. Ibid. Because STJs could not be "officers for purposes of some of their duties ..., but mere employees with respect to other[s]," the Court held they were officers in all respects. Ibid. Freytag is, therefore, consistent with a rule that a prerequisite to officer status is the authority, in at least some instances, to issue final decisions that bind the Government or third parties.*

Because I would conclude that Commission ALJs are not officers for purposes of the Appointments Clause, it is not necessary to reach the constitutionality of their removal protections. See ante, at 2057 - 2058 (BREYER, J., concurring in judgment in part and dissenting in part). In any event, for at least the reasons stated in Justice BREYER's opinion, Free Enterprise Fund is readily distinguishable from the circumstances at play here. See ante, at 2058 - 2062.

As a final matter, although I would conclude that Commission ALJs are not officers, I share Justice BREYER's concerns regarding the Court's choice of remedy, and so I join Part III of his opinion.

For the foregoing reasons, I respectfully dissent.

Chief Justice Rehnquist

delivered the opinion of the Court.

This case presents us with a challenge to the independent counsel provisions of the Ethics in Government Act of 1978, 28 U. S. C. §§49, 591 et seq. (1982 ed., Supp. V). We hold *660today that these provisions of the Act do not violate the Appointments Clause of the Constitution, Art. II, §2, cl. 2, or the limitations of Article III, nor do they impermissibly interfere with the President’s authority under Article II in violation of the constitutional principle of separation of powers.

h — I

Briefly stated, Title VI of the Ethics in Government Act (Title VI or the Act), 28 U. S. C. §§591-599 (1982 ed., Supp. V),1 allows for the appointment of an “independent counsel” to investigate and, if appropriate, prosecute certain high-ranking Government officials for violations of federal criminal laws.2 The Act requires the Attorney General, upon receipt of information that he determines is “sufficient to constitute grounds to investigate whether any person [covered by the Act] may have violated any Federal criminal law,” to .conduct a preliminary investigation of the matter. When the Attor*661ney General has completed this investigation, or 90 days has elapsed, he is required to report to a special court (the Special Division) created by the Act “for the purpose of appointing independent counsels.” 28 U. S. C. §49 (1982 ed., Supp. V).3 If the Attorney General determines that “there are no reasonable grounds to believe that further investigation is warranted,” then he must notify the Special Division of this result. In such a case, “the division of the court shall have no power to appoint an independent counsel.” § 592(b)(1). If, however, the Attorney General has determined that there are “reasonable grounds to believe that further investigation or prosecution is warranted/’ then he “shall apply to the division of the court for the appointment of an independent counsel.”4 The Attorney General’s application to the court “shall contain sufficient information to assist the [court] in selecting an independent counsel and in defining that independent counsel’s prosecutorial jurisdiction.” § 592(d). Upon receiving this application, the Special Division “shall appoint an appropriate independent counsel and shall define that independent counsel’s prosecutorial jurisdiction.” § 593(b).5

*662With respect to all matters within the independent counsel’s jurisdiction, the Act grants the counsel “full power and independent authority to exercise all investigative and pros-ecutorial functions and powers of the Department of Justice, the Attorney General, and any other officer or employee of the Department of Justice.” § 594(a).6 The functions of the independent counsel include conducting grand jury proceedings and other investigations, participating in civil and criminal court proceedings and litigation, and appealing any decision in any case in which the counsel participates in an official capacity. §§ 594(a)(1) — (3). Under § 594(a)(9), the counsel’s powers include “initiating and conducting prosecutions in any court of competent jurisdiction, framing and signing indictments, filing informations, and handling all aspects of any case, in the name of the United States.” The counsel may appoint employees, § 594(c), may request and obtain assistance from the Department of Justice, § 594(d), and may accept referral of matters from the Attorney General if the matter falls within the counsel’s jurisdiction as defined by the Special Division, § 594(e). The Act also states that an independent counsel “shall, except where not possible, comply with the written or other established policies of the Department of Justice respecting enforcement of the criminal laws.” § 594(f). In addition, whenever a matter has been referred to an independent counsel under the Act, the Attorney Gen*663eral and the Justice Department are required to suspend all investigations and proceedings regarding the matter. § 597(a). An independent counsel has “full authority to dismiss matters within [his or her] prosecutorial jurisdiction without conducting an investigation or at any subsequent time before prosecution, if to do so would be consistent” with Department of Justice policy. § 594(g).7

Two statutory provisions govern the length of an independent counsel’s tenure in office. The first defines the procedure for removing an independent counsel. Section 596(a)(1) provides:

“An independent counsel appointed under this chapter may be removed from office, other than by impeachment and conviction, only by the personal action of the Attorney General and only for good cause, physical disability, mental incapacity, or any other condition that substantially impairs the performance of such independent counsel’s duties.”

If an independent counsel is removed pursuant to this section, the Attorney General is required to submit a report to both the Special Division and the Judiciary Committees of the Senate and the House “specifying the facts found and the ultimate grounds for such removal.” § 596(a)(2). Under the current version of the Act, an independent counsel can obtain judicial review of the Attorney General’s action by filing a civil action in the United States District Court for the District of Columbia. Members of the Special Division “may not hear or determine any such civil action or any appeal of a de-*664cisión in any such civil action.” The reviewing court is authorized to grant reinstatement or “other appropriate relief.” § 596(a)(3).8

The other provision governing the tenure of the independent counsel defines the procedures for “terminating” the counsel’s office. Under § 596(b)(1), the office of an independent counsel terminates when he or she notifies the Attorney General that he or she has completed or substantially completed any investigations or prosecutions undertaken pursuant to the Act. In addition, the Special Division, acting either on its own or on the suggestion of the Attorney General, may terminate the office of an independent counsel at any time if it finds that “the investigation of all matters within the prosecutorial jurisdiction of such independent counsel . . . have been completed or so substantially completed that it would be appropriate for the Department of Justice to complete such investigations and prosecutions.” § 596(b)(2).9

Finally, the Act provides for congressional oversight of the activities of independent counsel. An independent counsel may from time to time send Congress statements or reports on his or her activities. § 595(a)(2). The “appropriate committees of the Congress” are given oversight jurisdiction in regard to the official conduct of an independent counsel, and the counsel is required by the Act to cooperate with Congress in the exercise of this jurisdiction. § 595(a)(1). The counsel is required to inform the House of Representatives of *665“substantial and credible information which [the counsel] receives . . . that may constitute grounds for an impeachment.” § 595(c). In addition, the Act gives certain congressional committee members the power to “request in writing that the Attorney General apply for the appointment of an independent counsel.” § 592(g)(1). The Attorney General is required to respond to this request within a specified time but is not required to accede to the request. § 592(g)(2),

The proceedings in this case provide an example of how the Act works in practice. In 1982, two Subcommittees of the House of Representatives issued subpoenas directing the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) to produce certain documents relating to the efforts of the EPA and the Land and Natural Resources Division of the Justice Department to enforce the “Superfund Law.”10 At that time, appellee Olson was the Assistant Attorney General for the Office of Legal Counsel (OLC), appellee Schmults was Deputy Attorney General, and appellee Dinkins was the Assistant Attorney General for the Land and Natural Resources Division. Acting on the advice of the Justice Department, the President ordered the Administrator of EPA to invoke executive privilege to withhold certain of the documents on the ground that they contained “enforcement sensitive information.” The Administrator obeyed this order and withheld the documents. In response, the House voted to hold the Administrator in contempt, after which the Administrator and the United States together filed a lawsuit against the House. The conflict abated in March 1983, when the administration agreed to give the House Subcommittees limited access to the documents.

The following year, the House Judiciary Committee began an investigation into the Justice Department’s role in the controversy over the EPA documents. During this investigation, appellee Olson testified before a House Subcommittee *666on March 10, 1983. Both before and after that testimony, the Department complied with several Committee requests to produce certain documents. Other documents were at first withheld, although these documents were eventually disclosed by the Department after the Committee learned of their existence. In 1985, the majority members of the Judiciary Committee published a lengthy report on the Committee’s investigation. Report on Investigation of the Role of the Department of Justice in the Withholding of Environmental Protection Agency Documents from Congress in 1982-83, H. R. Rep. No. 99-435 (1985). The report not only criticized various officials in the Department of Justice for their role in the EPA executive privilege dispute, but it also suggested that appellee Olson had given false and misleading testimony to the Subcommittee on March 10, 1983, and that appellees Schmults and Dinkins had wrongfully withheld certain documents from the Committee, thus obstructing the Committee’s investigation. The Chairman of the Judiciary Committee forwarded a copy of the report to the Attorney General with a request, pursuant to 28 U. S. C. § 592(c), that he seek the appointment of an independent counsel to investigate the allegations against Olson, Schmults, and Dinkins.

The Attorney General directed the Public Integrity Section of the Criminal Division to conduct a preliminary investigation. The Section’s report concluded that the appointment of an independent counsel was warranted to investigate the Committee’s allegations with respect to all three appellees. After consulting with other Department officials, however, the Attorney General chose to apply to the Special Division for the appointment of an independent counsel solely with respect to appellee Olson.11 The Attorney General accordingly *667requested appointment of an independent counsel to investigate whether Olson’s March 10, 1983, testimony “regarding the completeness of [OLC’s] response to the Judiciary Committee’s request for OLC documents, and regarding his knowledge of EPA’s willingness to turn over certain disputed documents to Congress, violated 18 U. S. C. § 1505, § 1001, or any other provision of federal criminal law.” Attorney General Report, at 2-3. The Attorney General also requested that the independent counsel have authority to investigate “any other matter related to that allegation.” Id., at 11.

On April 23, 1986, the Special Division appointed James C. McKay as independent counsel to investigate “whether the testimony of. . . Olson and his revision of such testimony on March 10, 1983, violated either 18 ]LJ. S. C. § 1505 or § 1001, or any other provision of federal law.” The court also ordered that the independent counsel

“shall have jurisdiction to investigate any other allegation of evidence of violation of any Federal criminal law by Theodore Olson developed during, investigations, by the Independent Counsel, referred to above, and connected with or arising out of that investigation, and Independent Counsel shall have jurisdiction to prosecute for any such violation.” Order, Div. No. 86-1 (CADC Special Division, April 23, 1986).

McKay later resigned as independent counsel, and on May 29, 1986, the Division appointed appellant Morrison as his replacement, with the same jurisdiction.

In January 1987, appellant asked the Attorney General pursuant to § 594(e) to refer to her as “related matters” the Committee’s allegations against appellees Schmults and Din-kins. The Attorney General refused to refer the matters, concluding that his decision not to request the appointment of *668an independent counsel in regard to those matters was final under § 592(b)(1). Appellant then asked the Special Division to order that the matters be referred to her under § 594(e). On April 2, 1987, the Division ruled that the Attorney General’s decision not to seek appointment of an independent counsel with respect to Schmults and Dinkins was final and unreviewable under § 592(b)(1), and that therefore the court had no authority to make the requested referral. In re Olson, 260 U. S. App. D. C. 168, 818 F. 2d 34. The court ruled, however, that its original grant of jurisdiction to appellant was broad enough to permit inquiry into whether Olson may have conspired with others, including Schmults and Dinkins, to obstruct the Committee’s investigation. Id., at 181-182, 818 F. 2d, at 47-48.

Following this ruling, in May and June 1987, appellant caused a grand jury to issue and serve subpoenas ad testifi-candum and duces tecum on appellees. All three appellees moved to quash the subpoenas, claiming, among other things, that the independent counsel provisions of the Act were unconstitutional and that appellant accordingly had no authority to proceed. On July 20, 1987, the District Court upheld the constitutionality of the Act and denied the motions to quash. In re Sealed Case, 665 F. Supp. 56 (DC). The court subsequently ordered that appellees be held in contempt pursuant to 28 U. S. C. § 1826(a) for continuing to refuse to comply with the subpoenas. See App. to Juris. Statement 140a, 143a, 146a. The court stayed the effect of its contempt orders pending expedited appeal.

A divided Court of Appeals reversed. In re Sealed Case, 267 U. S. App. D. C. 178, 838 F. 2d 476 (1988). The majority ruled first that an independent counsel is not an “inferior Officer” of the United States for purposes of the Appointments Clause. Accordingly, the court found the Act invalid because it does not provide for the independent counsel to be nominated by the President and confirmed by the Senate, as the Clause requires for “principal” officers. The court then *669went on to consider several alternative grounds for its conclusion that the statute was unconstitutional. In the majority’s view, the Act also violates the Appointments Clause insofar as it empowers a court of law to appoint an “inferior” officer who performs core executive functions; the Act’s delegation of various powers to the Special Division violates the limitations of Article III; the Act’s restrictions on the Attorney General’s power to remove an independent counsel violate the separation of powers; and finally, the Act interferes with the Executive Branch’s prerogative to “take care that the Laws be faithfully executed,” Art. II, §3. The dissenting judge was of the view that the Act was constitutional. 267 U. S. App. D. C., at 238, 838 F. 2d, at 536. Appellant then sought review by this Court, and we noted probable jurisdiction. 484 U. S. 1058 (1988). We now reverse.

II

Before we get to the merits, we first must deal with appellant's contention that the constitutional issues addressed by the Court of Appeals cannot be reviewed on this appeal from the District Court’s contempt judgment. Appellant relies on Blair v. United States, 250 U. S. 273 (1919), in which this Court limited rather sharply the issues that may be raised by an individual who has been subpoenaed as a grand jury witness and has been held in contempt for failure to comply with the subpoena. On the facts of this case, however, we find it unnecessary to consider whether Blair has since been narrowed by our more recent decisions, as appellees contend and the Court of Appeals found in another related case, In re Sealed Case, 264 U. S. App. D. C. 125, 827 F. 2d 776 (1987). Appellant herself admits that she failed to object to the District Court’s consideration of the merits of appellees’ constitutional claims, and as a result, the Court of Appeals ruled that she had waived her opportunity to contend on appeal that review of those claims was barred by Blair. We see no reason why the Court of Appeals was not entitled to conclude *670that the failure of appellant to object on this ground in the District Court was a sufficient reason for refusing to consider it, and we likewise decline to consider it. Appellant’s contention is not “jurisdictional” in the sense that it cannot be waived by failure to raise it at the proper time and place. It is not the sort of claim which would defeat jurisdiction in the District Court by showing that an Article III “Case” or “Controversy” is lacking. Appellees are subject to the burden of complying with the grand jury subpoena as a result of the District Court’s contempt order, there is a legitimate adver-saba! relationship between the parties, and the courts possess the power to redress or resolve the current controversy. See Bender v. Williamsport Area School District, 475 U. S. 534, 541-543 (1986). We therefore turn to consider the merits of appellees’ constitutional claims.

III

The Appointments Clause of Article II reads as follows:

“[The President] shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments.” U. S. Const., Art. II, §2, cl. 2.

The parties do not dispute that “[t]he Constitution for purposes of appointment . . . divides all its officers into two classes.” United States v. Germaine, 99 U. S. 508, 509 (1879). As we stated in Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1, 132 (1976): “Principal officers are selected by the President with the advice and consent of the Senate. Inferior officers Congress may allow to be appointed by the President alone, by the heads of departments, or by the Judiciary.” The initial *671question is, accordingly, whether appellant is an “inferior” or a “principal” officer.12 If she is the latter, as the Court of Appeals concluded, then the Act is in violation of the Appointments Clause.

The line between “inferior” and “principal” officers is one that is far from clear, and the Framers provided little guidance into where it should be drawn. See, e. g., 2 J. Story, Commentaries on the Constitution § 1536, pp. 397-398 (3d ed. 1858) (“In the practical course of the government there does not seem to have been any exact line drawn, who are and who are not to be deemed inferior officers, in the sense of the constitution, whose appointment does not necessarily require the concurrence of the senate”). We need not attempt here to decide exactly where the line falls between the two types of officers, because in our view appellant clearly falls on the “inferior officer” side of that line. Several factors lead to this conclusion.

First, appellant is subject to removal by a higher Executive Branch official. Although appellant may not be “subordinate” to the Attorney General (and the President) insofar as she possesses a degree of independent discretion to exercise the powers delegated to her under the Act, the fact that she can be removed by the Attorney General indicates that she is to some degree “inferior” in rank and authority. Second, appellant is empowered by the Act to perform only certain, limited duties. An independent counsel’s role is restricted primarily to investigation and,. if appropriate, prosecution for certain federal crimes. Admittedly, the Act delegates to appellant “full power and independent authority to exercise all investigative and prosecutorial functions and powers of the Department of Justice,” § 594(a), but this grant of authority does not include any authority to formulate policy for the Government or the Executive Branch, nor does it give appellant any administrative duties outside of those nec*672essary to operate her office. The Act specifically provides that in policy matters appellant is to comply to the extent possible with the policies of the Department. § 594(f).

Third, appellant’s office is limited in jurisdiction. Not only is the Act itself restricted in applicability to certain federal officials suspected of certain serious federal crimes, but an independent counsel can only act within the scope of the jurisdiction that has been granted by the Special Division pursuant to a request by the Attorney General. Finally, appellant’s office is limited in tenure. There is concededly no time limit on the appointment of a particular counsel. Nonetheless, the office of independent counsel is “temporary” in the sense that an independent counsel is appointed essentially to accomplish a single task, and when that task is over the office is terminated, either by the counsel herself or by action of the Special Division. Unlike other prosecutors, appellant has no ongoing responsibilities that extend beyond the accomplishment of the mission that she was appointed for and authorized by the Special Division to undertake. In our view, these factors relating to the “ideas of tenure, duration . . . and duties” of the independent counsel, Germaine, supra, at 511, are sufficient to establish that appellant is an “inferior” officer in the constitutional sense.

This conclusion is consistent with our few previous decisions that considered the question whether a particular Government official is a “principal” or an “inferior” officer. In United States v. Eaton, 169 U. S. 331 (1898), for example, we approved Department of State regulations that allowed executive officials to appoint a “vice-consul” during the temporary absence of the consul, terming the “vice-consul” a “subordinate officer” notwithstanding the Appointment Clause’s specific reference to “Consuls” as principal officers. As we stated: “Because the subordinate officer is charged with the performance of the duty of the superior for a limited time and under special and temporary conditions he is not thereby transformed into the superior and permanent offi*673cial.” Id., at 343. In Ex parte Siebold, 100 U. S. 371 (1880), the Court found that federal “supervisor[s] of elections,” who were charged with various duties involving oversight of local congressional elections, see id., at 379-380, were inferior officers for purposes of the Clause. In Go-Bart Importing Co. v. United States, 282 U. S. 344, 352-353 (1931), we held that “United States commissioners are inferior officers.” Id., at 352. These commissioners had various judicial and prosecutorial powers, including the power to arrest and imprison for trial, to issue warrants, and to institute prosecutions under “laws relating to the elective franchise and civil rights.” Id., at 353, n. 2. All of this is consistent with our reference in United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S. 683, 694, 696 (1974), to the office of Watergate Special Prosecutor — whose authority was similar to that of appellant, see id., at 694, n. 8 — as a “subordinate officer.”

This does not, however, end our inquiry under the Appointments Clause. Appellees argue that even if appellant is an “inferior” officer, the Clause does not empower Congress to place the power to appoint such an officer outside the Executive Branch. They contend that the Clause does not contemplate congressional authorization of “interbranch appointments,” in which an officer of one branch is appointed by officers of another branch. The relevant language of the Appointments Clause is worth repeating. It reads: “ . . . but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments.” On its face, the language of this “excepting clause” admits of no limitation on interbranch appointments. Indeed, the inclusion of “as they think proper” seems clearly to give Congress significant discretion to determine whether it is “proper” to vest the appointment of, for example, executive officials in the “courts of Law.” We recognized as much in one of our few decisions in this area, Ex parte Siebold, supra, where we stated:

*674“It is no doubt usual and proper to vest the appointment of inferior officers in that department of the government, executive or judicial, or in that particular executive department to which the duties of such officers appertain. But there is no absolute requirement to this effect in the Constitution; and, if there were, it would be difficult in many cases to determine to which department an office properly belonged. . . .

“But as the Constitution stands, the selection of the appointing power, as between the functionaries named, is a matter resting in the discretion of Congress. And, looking at the subject in a practical light, it is perhaps better that it should rest there, than that the country should be harassed by the endless controversies to which a more specific direction on this subject might have given rise.” Id., at 397-398.

Our only decision to suggest otherwise, Ex parte Hennen, 13 Pet. 230 (1839), from which the first sentence in the above quotation from Siebold was derived, was discussed in Siebold and distinguished as “not intended to define the constitutional power of Congress in this regard, but rather to express the law or rule by which it should be governed.” 100 U. S., at 398. Outside of these two cases, there is very little, if any, express discussion of the propriety of interbranch appointments in our decisions, and we see no reason now to depart from the holding of Siebold that such appointments are not proscribed by the excepting clause.

We also note that the history of the Clause provides no support for appellees’ position. Throughout most of the process of drafting the Constitution, the Convention concentrated on the problem of who should have the authority to appoint judges. At the suggestion of James Madison, the Convention adopted a proposal that the Senate should have this authority, 1 Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, pp. 232-233 (M. Farrand ed. 1966), and several attempts to transfer the appointment power to the President were re*675jected. See 2 id., at 42-44, 80-83. The August 6, 1787, draft of the Constitution reported by the Committee of Detail retained Senate appointment of Supreme Court Judges, provided also for Senate appointment of ambassadors, and vested in the President the authority to “appoint officers in all cases not otherwise provided for by this Constitution.” Id., at 183, 185. This scheme was maintained until September 4, when the Committee of Eleven reported its suggestions to the Convention. This Committee suggested that the Constitution be amended to state that the President “shall nominate and by and with the advice and consent of the Senate shall appoint ambassadors, and other public Ministers, Judges of the Supreme Court, and all other Officers of the [United States], whose appointments are not otherwise herein provided for. ” Id., at 498-499. After the addition of “Consuls” to the list, the Committee’s proposal was adopted, id., at 539, and was subsequently reported to the Convention by the Committee of Style. See id., at 599. It was at this point, on September 15, that Gouvemeur Morris moved to add the Excepting Clause to Art. II, §2. Id., at 627. The one comment made on this motion was by Madison, who felt that the Clause did not go far enough in that it did not allow Congress to vest appointment powers in “Superior Officers below Heads of Departments.” The first vote on Morris’ motion ended in a tie. It was then put forward a second time, with the urging that “some such provision [was] too necessary, to be omitted.” This time the proposal was adopted. Id., at 627-628. As this discussion shows, there was little or no debate on the question whether the Clause empowers Congress to provide for interbranch appointments, and there is nothing to suggest that the Framers intended to prevent Congress from having that power.

We do not mean to say that Congress’ power to provide for interbranch appointments of “inferior officers” is unlimited. In addition to separation-of-powers concerns, which would arise if such provisions for appointment had the potential to *676impair the constitutional functions assigned to one of the branches, Siebold itself suggested that Congress’ decision to vest the appointment power in the courts would be improper if there was some “incongruity” between the functions normally performed by the courts and the performance of their duty to appoint. 100 U. S., at 398 (“[T]he duty to appoint inferior officers, when required thereto by law, is a constitutional duty of the courts; and in the present case there is no such incongruity in the duty required as to excuse the courts from its performance, or to render their acts void”). In this case, however, we do not think it impermissible for Congress to vest the power to appoint independent counsel in a specially created federal court. We thus disagree with the Court of Appeals’ conclusion that there is an inherent incongruity about a court having the power to appoint prosecu-torial officers.13 We have recognized that courts may appoint private attorneys to act as prosecutor for judicial contempt judgments. See Young v. United States ex rel. Vuitton et Fils S. A., 481 U. S. 787 (1987). In Go-Bart Importing Co. v. United States, 282 U. S. 344 (1931), we approved court appointment of United States commissioners, who exercised certain limited prosecutorial powers. Id., at 353, n. 2. In Siebold, as well, we indicated that judicial appointment of federal marshals, who are “executive officers], ” would not be inappropriate. Lower courts have also upheld interim judicial appointments of United States Attorneys, see United States v. Solomon, 216 F. Supp. 835 (SDNY 1963), and Congress itself has vested the power to make these interim appointments in the district courts, see 28 *677U. S. C. § 546(d) (1982 ed., Supp. V).14 Congress, of course, was concerned when it created the office of independent counsel with the conflicts of interest that could arise in situations when the Executive Branch is called upon to investigate its own high-ranking officers. If it were to remove the appointing authority from the Executive Branch, the most logical place to put it was in the Judicial Branch. In the light of the Act’s provision making the judges of the Special Division ineligible to participate in any matters relating to an independent counsel they have appointed, 28 U. S. C. § 49(f) (1982 ed., Supp. V), we do not think that appointment of the independent counsel by the court runs afoul of the constitutional limitation on “incongruous” interbranch appointments.

IV

Appellees next contend that the powers vested in the Special Division by the Act conflict with Article III of the Constitution. We have long recognized that by the express provision of Article III, the judicial power of the United States is limited to “Cases” and “Controversies.” See Muskrat v. United States, 219 U. S. 346, 356 (1911). As a general rule, we have broadly stated that “executive or administrative duties of a nonjudicial nature may not be imposed on judges holding office under Art. Ill of the Constitution.” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 123 (citing United States v. Ferreira, 13 How. 40 (1852); Hayburn’s Case, 2 Dall. 409 (1792)).15 The pur*678pose of this limitation is to help ensure the independence of the Judicial Branch and to prevent the Judiciary from encroaching into areas reserved for the other branches. See United States Parole Comm’n v. Geraghty, 445 U. S. 388, 396 (1980). With this in mind, we address in turn the various duties given to the Special Division by the Act.

Most importantly, the Act vests in the Special Division the power to choose who will serve as independent counsel and the power to define his or her jurisdiction. § 593(b). Clearly, once it is accepted that the Appointments Clause gives Congress the power to vest the appointment of officials such as the independent counsel in the “courts of Law,” there can be no Article III objection to the Special Division’s exercise of that power, as the power itself derives from the Appointments Clause, a source of authority for judicial action *679that is independent of Article III.16 Appellees contend, however, that the Division’s Appointments Clause powers do not encompass the power to define the independent counsel’s jurisdiction. We disagree. In our view, Congress’ power under the Clause to vest the “Appointment” of inferior officers in the courts may, in certain circumstances, allow Congress to give the courts some discretion in defining the nature and scope of the appointed official’s authority. Particularly when, as here, Congress creates a temporary “office” the nature and duties of which will by necessity vary with the factual circumstances giving rise to the need for an appointment.in the first place, it may vest the power to define the scope of the office in the court as an incident to the appointment of the officer pursuant to the Appointments Clause. This said, we do not think that Congress may give the Division unlimited discretion to determine the independent counsel’s jurisdiction. In order for the Division’s definition of the counsel’s jurisdiction to be truly “incidental” to its power to appoint, the jurisdiction that the court decides upon must be demonstrably related to the factual circumstances that gave rise to the Attorney General’s investigation and request for the appointment of the independent counsel in the particular case.17

*680The Act also vests in the Special Division various powers and duties in relation to the independent counsel that, because they do not involve appointing the counsel or defining his or her jurisdiction, cannot be said to derive from the Division’s Appointments Clause authority. These duties include granting extensions for the Attorney General’s preliminary investigation, § 592(a)(3); receiving the report of the Attorney General at the conclusion of his preliminary investigation, §§ 592(b)(1), 593(c)(2)(B); referring matters to the counsel upon request, § 594(e)18; receiving reports from the counsel regarding expenses incurred, § 594(h)(1)(A); receiving a report from the Attorney General following the removal of an independent counsel, § 596(a)(2); granting attorney’s fees upon request to individuals who were investigated but not indicted by an independent counsel, § 593(f); receiving a final report from the counsel, § 594(h)(1)(B); deciding whether to release the counsel’s final report to Congress or the public and determining whether any protective orders should be issued, § 594(h)(2); and terminating an independent counsel when his or her task is completed, § 596(b)(2).

Leaving aside for the moment the Division’s power to terminate an independent counsel, we do not think that Article III absolutely prevents Congress from vesting these other miscellaneous powers in the Special Division pursuant to the Act. As we observed above, one purpose of the broad prohibition upon the courts’ exercise of “executive or administrative duties of a nonjudicial nature,” Buckley, 424 U. S., at 123, is to maintain the separation between the Judiciary and the other branches of the Féderal Government by ensuring that judges do not encroach upon executive or legislative authority or undertake tasks that are more properly accom*681plished by those branches. In this case, the miscellaneous powers described above do not impermissibly trespass upon the authority of the Executive Branch. Some of these allegedly “supervisory” powers conferred on the court are passive: the Division merely “receives” reports from the counsel or the Attorney General, it is not entitled to act on them or to specifically approve or disapprove of their contents. Other provisions of the Act do require the court to exercise some judgment and discretion,19 but the powers granted by these provisions are themselves essentially ministerial. The Act simply does not give the Division the power to “supervise” the independent counsel in the exercise of his or her investigative or prosecutorial authority. And, the functions that the Special Division is empowered to perform are not inherently “Executive”; indeed, they are' directly analogous to functions that federal judges perform in other contexts, such as deciding whether to allow disclosure of matters occurring before a grand jury, see Fed. Rule Crim. Proc. 6(e), deciding to extend a grand jury investigation, Rule 6(g), or awarding attorney’s fees, see, e. g., 42 U. S. C. § 1988.20

*682We are more doubtful about the Special Division’s power to terminate the office of the independent counsel pursuant to § 596(b)(2). As appellees suggest, the power to terminate, especially when exercised by the Division on its own motion, is “administrative” to the extent that it requires the Special Division to monitor the progress of proceedings of the independent counsel and come to a decision as to whether the counsel’s job is “completed.” § 596(b)(2). It also is not a power that could be considered typically “judicial,” as it has few analogues among the court’s more traditional powers. Nonetheless, we do not, as did the Court of Appeals, view this provision as a significant judicial encroachment upon executive power or upon the prosecutorial discretion of the independent counsel.

We think that the Court of Appeals overstated the matter when it described the power to terminate as a “broadsword and . . . rapier” that enables the court to “control the pace and depth of the independent counsel’s activities.” 267 U. S. App. D. C., at 217, 888 F. 2d, at 515. The provision has not been tested in practice, and we do not mean to say that an adventurous special court could not reasonably construe the provision as did the Court of Appeals; but it is the duty of federal courts to construe a statute in order to save it from constitutional infirmities, see, e. g., Commodity Futures Trading Comm’n v. Schor, 478 U. S. 833, 841 (1986), and to that end we think a narrow construction is appropriate here. The termination provisions of the Act do not give the Special Division anything approaching the power to remove the counsel while an investigation or court proceeding is still underway — this power is vested solely in the Attorney General. As we see it, “termination” may occur only when the duties of *683the counsel are truly “completed” or “so substantially completed” that there remains no need for any continuing action by the independent counsel.21 It is basically a device for removing from the public payroll an independent counsel who has served his or her purpose, but is unwilling to acknowledge the fact. So construed, the Special Division’s power to terminate does not pose a sufficient threat of judicial intrusion into matters that are more properly within the Executive’s authority to require that the Act be invalidated as inconsistent with Article III.

Nor do we believe, as appellees contend, that the Special Division’s exercise of the various powers specifically granted to it under the Act poses any threat to the “impartial and independent federal adjudication of claims within the judicial power of the United States.” Commodity Futures Trading Comm’n v. Schor, supra, at 850. We reach this conclusion for two reasons. First, the Act as it currently stands gives the Special Division itself no power to review any of the actions of the independent counsel or any of the actions of the Attorney General with regard to the counsel. Accordingly, there is no risk of partisan or biased adjudication of claims regarding the independent counsel by that court. Second, the Act prevents members of the Special Division from participating in “any judicial proceeding concerning a matter which involves such independent counsel while such independent counsel is serving in that office or which involves the exercise of such independent counsel’s official duties, regard*684less of whether such independent counsel is still serving in that office.” 28 U. S. C. §49(f) (1982 ed., Supp. V) (emphasis added); see also § 596(a)(3) (preventing members of the Special Division from participating in review of the Attorney General’s decision to remove an independent counsel). We think both the special court and its judges are sufficiently isolated by these statutory provisions from the review of the activities of the independent counsel so as to avoid any taint of the independence of the Judiciary such as would render the Act invalid under Article III.

We emphasize, nevertheless, that the Special Division has no authority to take any action or undertake any duties that are not specifically authorized by the Act. The gradual expansion of the authority of the Special Division might in another context be a bureaucratic success story, but it would be one that would have serious constitutional ramifications. . The record in other cases involving independent counsel indicate that the Special Division has at times given advisory opinions or issued orders that are not directly authorized by the Act. Two examples of this were cited by the Court of Appeals, which noted that the Special Division issued “orders” that ostensibly exempted the independent counsel from conflict-of-interest laws. See 267 U. S. App. D. C., at 216, and n. 60, 838 F. 2d, at 514, and n. 60 (citing In re Deaver, No. 86-2 (CADC Special Division, July 2, 1986), and In re Olson, No. 86-1 (CADC Special Division, June 18, 1986)). In another case, the Division reportedly ordered that a counsel postpone an investigation into certain allegations until the completion of related state criminal proceedings. See H. R. Rep. Conf. Rep. No. 100-452, p. 26 (1987). The propriety of the Special Division’s actions in these instances is not before us as such, but we nonetheless think it appropriate to point out not only that there is no authorization for such actions in the Act itself, but that the Division’s exercise of unauthorized *685powers risks the transgression of the constitutional limitations of Article III that we have just discussed.22

V

.We now turn to consider whether the Act is invalid under the constitutional principle of separation of powers. Two related issues must be addressed: The first is whether the provision of the Act restricting the Attorney General’s power to remove the independent counsel to only those instances in which he can show “good cause,” taken by itself, impermissi-bly interferes with the President’s exercise of his constitutionally appointed functions. The second is whether, taken as a whole, the Act violates the separation of powers by reducing the President’s ability to control the prosecutorial powers wielded by the independent counsel.

A

Two Terms ago we had occasion to consider whether it was consistent with the separation of powers for Congress to pass a statute that authorized a Government official who is removable only by Congress to participate in what we found to be “executive powers.” Bowsher v. Synar, 478 U. S. 714, 730 (1986). We held in Bowsher that “Congress cannot reserve *686for itself the power of removal of an officer charged with the execution of the laws except by impeachment.” Id., at 726. A primary antecedent for this ruling was our 1926 decision in Myers v. United States, 272 U. S. 52. Myers had considered the propriety of a federal statute by which certain postmasters of the United States could be removed by the President only “by and with the advice and consent of the Senate.” There too, Congress’ attempt to involve itself in the removal of an executive official was found to be sufficient grounds to render the statute invalid. As we observed in Bowsher, the essence of the decision in Myers was the judgment that the Constitution prevents Congress from “drawing] to itself. . . the power to remove or the right to participate in the exercise of that power. To do this would be to go beyond the words and implications of the [Appointments Clause] and to infringe the constitutional principle of the separation of governmental powers.” Myers, supra, at 161.

Unlike both Bowsher and Myers, this case does not involve an attempt by Congress itself to gain a role in the removal of executive officials other than its established powers of impeachment and conviction. The Act instead puts the removal power squarely in the hands of the Executive Branch; an independent counsel may be removed from office, “only by the personal action of the Attorney General, and only for good cause.” § 596(a)(1).23 There is no requirement of congressional approval of the Attorney General’s removal decision, though the decision is subject to judicial review. § 596(a)(3). In our view, the removal provisions of the Act make this case more analogous to Humphrey’s Executor v. United States, 295 U. S. 602 (1935), and Wiener v. United States, 357 U. S. 349 (1958), than to Myers or Bowsher.

*687In Humphrey’s Executor, the issue was whether a statute restricting the President’s power to remove the Commissioners of the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) only for “inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office” was consistent with the Constitution. 295 U. S., at 619. We stated that whether Congress can “condition the [President’s power of removal] by fixing a definite term and precluding a removal except for cause, will depend upon the character of the office.” Id., at 631. Contrary to the implication of some dicta in Myers,24 the President’s power to remove Government officials simply was not “all-inclusive in respect of civil officers with the exception of the judiciary provided for by the Constitution.” 295 U. S., at 629. At least in regard to “quasi-legislative” and “quasi-judicial” agencies such as the FTC,25 “[t]he authority of Congress, in creating [such] agencies, to require them to act in discharge of their duties independently of executive control . . . includes, as an appropriate incident, power to fix the period during which they shall continue in office, and to forbid their removal except for cause in the meantime.” Ibid. In Humphrey’s Executor, we found it “plain” that the Constitution did not give the President “illimitable power of removal” over the officers of independent agencies. Ibid. Were the President to have *688the power to remove FTC Commissioners at will, the “coercive influence” of the removal power would “threate[n] the independence of [the] commission.” Id., at 630.

Similarly, in Wiener we considered whether the President had unfettered discretion to remove a member of the War Claims Commission, which had been established by Congress in the War Claims Act of 1948, 62 Stat. 1240. The Commission’s function was to receive and adjudicate certain claims for compensation from those who had suffered personal injury or property damage at the hands of the enemy during World War II. Commissioners were appointed by the President, with the advice and consent of the Senate, but the statute made no provision for the removal of officers, perhaps because the Commission itself was to have a limited existence. As in Humphrey's Executor, however, the Commissioners were entrusted by Congress with adjudicatory powers that were to be exercised free from executive control. In this context, “Congress did not wish to have hang over the Commission the Damocles’ sword of removal by the President for no reason other than that he preferred to have on that Commission men of his own choosing.” 357 U. S., at 356. Accordingly, we rejected the President’s attempt to remove a Commissioner “merely because he wanted his own appointees on [the] Commission,” stating that “no such power is given to the President directly by the Constitution, and none is impliedly conferred upon him by statute.” Ibid.

Appellees contend that Humphrey’s Executor and Wiener are distinguishable from this case because they did not involve officials who performed a “core executive function.” They argue that our decision in Humphrey’s Executor rests on a distinction between “purely executive” officials and officials who exercise “quasi-legislative” and “quasi-judicial” powers. In their view, when a “purely executive” official is involved, the governing precedent is Myers, not Humphrey’s Executor. See Humphrey’s Executor, supra, at 628. And, under Myers, the President must have absolute discretion to *689discharge “purely” executive officials at will. See Myers, 272 U. S., at 132-134.26

We undoubtedly did rely on the terms “quasi-legislative” and “quasi-judicial” to distinguish the officials involved in Humphrey’s Executor and Wiener from those in Myers, but our present considered view is that the determination of whether the Constitution allows Congress to impose a “good cause”-type restriction on the President’s power to remove an official cannot be made to turn on whether or not that official is classified as “purely executive.”27 The analysis contained in our removal cases is designed not to define rigid categories of those officials who may or may not be removed at will by the President,28 but to ensure that Congress does *690not interfere with the President’s exercise of the “executive power” and his constitutionally appointed duty to “take care that the laws be faithfully executed” under Article II. Myers was undoubtedly correct in its holding, and in its broader suggestion that there are some “purely executive” officials who must be removable by the President at will if he is to be able to accomplish his constitutional role.29 See 272 U. S., at 132-134. But as the Court noted in Wiener:

“The assumption was short-lived that the Myers case recognized the President’s inherent constitutional power to remove officials no matter what the relation of the executive to the discharge of their duties and no matter what restrictions Congress may have imposed regarding the nature of their tenure.” 357 U. S., at 352.

At the other end of the spectrum from Myers, the characterization of the agencies in Humphrey’s Executor and Wie*691ner as “quasi-legislative” or “quasi-judicial” in large part reflected our judgment that it was not essential to the President’s proper execution of his Article II powers that these agencies be headed up by individuals who were removable at will.30 We do not mean to suggest that an analysis of the functions served by the officials at issue is irrelevant. But the real question is whether the removal restrictions are of such a nature that they impede the President’s ability to perform his constitutional duty, and the functions of the officials in question must be analyzed in that light.

Considering for the moment the “good cause” removal provision in isolation from the other parts of the Act at issue in this case, we cannot say that the imposition of a “good cause” standard for removal by itself unduly trammels on executive authority. There is no real dispute that the functions performed by the independent counsel are “executive” in the sense that they are law enforcement functions that typically have been undertaken by officials within the Executive Branch. As we noted above, however, the independent counsel is an inferior officer under the Appointments Clause, with limited jurisdiction and tenure and lacking.policymak-ing or significant administrative authority. Although the counsel exercises no small amount of discretion and judgment in deciding how to carry out his or her duties under the Act, we simply do not see how the President’s need to control the exercise of that discretion is so central to the functioning of the Executive Branch as to require as a matter of consti*692tutional law that the counsel be terminable at will by the President.31

Nor do we think that the “good cause” removal provision at issue here impermissibly burdens the President’s power to control or supervise the independent counsel, as an executive official, in the execution of his or her duties under the Act. This is not a case in which the power to remove an executive official has been completely stripped from the President, thus providing no means for the President to ensure the “faithful execution” of the laws. Rather, because the independent counsel may be terminated for “good cause,” the Executive, through the Attorney General, retains ample authority to assure that the counsel is competently performing his or her statutory responsibilities in a manner that comports with the provisions of the Act.32 Although we need not decide in this case exactly what is encompassed within the term “good cause” under the Act, the legislative history of the removal provision also makes clear that the Attorney General may remove an independent counsel for “misconduct.” See H. R. Conf. Rep. No. 100-452, p. 37 (1987). Here, as with the provision of the Act conferring the appointment authority of *693the independent counsel on the special court, the congressional determination to limit the removal power of the Attorney General was essential, in the view of Congress, to establish the necessary independence of the office. We do not think that this limitation as it presently stands sufficiently deprives the President of control over the independent counsel to interfere impermissibly with his constitutional obligation to ensure the faithful execution of the laws.33

B

The final question to be addressed is whether the Act, taken as a whole, violates the principle of separation of powers by unduly interfering with the role of the Executive Branch. Time and again we have reaffirmed the importance in our constitutional scheme of the separation of governmental powers into the three coordinate branches. See, e. g., Bowsher v. Synar, 478 U. S., at 725 (citing Humphrey’s Executor, 295 U. S., at 629-630). As we stated in Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1 (1976), the system of separated powers and checks and balances established in the Constitution was regarded by the Framers as “a self-executing safeguard against the encroachment or aggrandizement of one branch at the expense of the other.” Id., at 122. We have not hesitated to invalidate provisions of law which violate this principle. See id., at 123. On the other hand, we have never held that the Constitution requires that the three *694branches of Government “operate with absolute independence.” United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S., at 707; see also Nixon v. Administrator of General Services, 433 U. S. 425, 442 (1977) (citing James Madison in The Federalist No. 47, and Joseph Story in 1 Commentaries on the Constitution § 525 (M. Bigelow, 5th ed. 1905)). In the often-quoted words of Justice Jackson:

“While the Constitution diffuses power the better to secure liberty, it also contemplates that practice will integrate the dispersed powers into a workable government. It enjoins upon its branches separateness but interdependence, autonomy but reciprocity.” Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U. S. 579, 635 (1952) (concurring opinion).

We observe first that this case does not involve an attempt by Congress to increase its own powers at the expense of the Executive Branch. Cf. Commodity Futures Trading Comm’n v. Schor, 478 U. S., at 856. Unlike some of our previous cases, most recently Bowsher v. Synar, this case simply does not pose a “dange[r] of congressional usurpation of Executive Branch functions.” 478 U. S., at 727; see also INS v. Chadha, 462 U. S. 919, 958 (1983). Indeed, with the exception of the power of impeachment — which applies to all officers of the United States — Congress retained for itself no powers of control or supervision over an independent counsel. The Act does empower certain Members of Congress to request the Attorney General to apply for the appointment of an independent counsel, but the Attorney General has no duty to comply with the request, although he must respond within a certain time limit. § 592(g). Other than that, Congress’ role under the Act is limited to receiving reports or other information and oversight of the independent counsel’s activities, § 595(a), functions that we have recognized generally as being incidental to the legislative function of Congress. See McGrain v. Daugherty, 273 U. S. 135, 174 (1927).

*695Similarly, we do not think that the Act works any judicial usurpation of properly executive functions. As should be apparent from our discussion of the Appointments Clause above, the power to appoint inferior officers such as independent counsel is not in itself an “executive” function in the constitutional sense, at least when Congress has exercised its power to vest the appointment of an inferior office in the “courts of Law.” We note nonetheless that under the Act the Special Division has no power to appoint an independent counsel sua sponte; it may only do so upon the specific request of the Attorney General, and the courts are specifically prevented from reviewing the Attorney General’s decision not to' seek appointment, § 592(f). In addition, once the court has appointed a counsel and defined his or her jurisdiction, it has no power to supervise or control the activities of the counsel. As we pointed out in our discussion of the Special Division in relation to Article III, the various powers delegated by the statute to the Division are not supervisory or administrative, nor are they functions that the Constitution requires be performed by officials within the Executive Branch. The Act does give a federal court the power to review the Attorney General’s decision to remove an independent counsel, but in our view this is a function that is well within the traditional power of the Judiciary.

Finally, we do not think that the Act “impermissibly undermine[s]” the powers of the Executive Branch, Schor, supra, at 856, or “disrupts the proper balance between the coordinate branches [by] preventing] the Executive Branch from accomplishing its constitutionally assigned functions,” Nixon v. Administrator of General Services, supra, at 443. It is undeniable that the Act reduces the amount of control or supervision that the Attorney General and, through him, the President exercises over the investigation and prosecution of a certain class of alleged criminal activity. The Attorney General is. not allowed to appoint the individual of his choice; he does not determine the counsel’s jurisdiction; and his *696power to remove a counsel is limited.34 Nonetheless, the Act does give the Attorney General several means of supervising or controlling the prosecutorial powers that may be wielded by an independent counsel. Most importantly, the Attorney General retains the power to remove the counsel for “good cause,” a power that we have already concluded provides the Executive with substantial ability to ensure that the laws are “faithfully executed” by an independent counsel. No independent counsel may be appointed without a specific request by the Attorney General, and the Attorney General’s decision not to request appointment if he finds “no reasonable grounds to believe that further investigation is warranted” is committed to his unreviewable discretion. The Act thus gives the Executive a degree of control over the power to initiate an investigation by the independent counsel. In addition, the jurisdiction of the independent counsel is defined with reference to the facts submitted by the Attorney General, and once a counsel is appointed, the Act requires that the counsel abide by Justice Department policy unless it is not “possible” to do so. Notwithstanding the fact that the counsel is to some degree “independent” and free from executive supervision to a greater extent than other federal prosecutors, in our view these features of the Act give the Executive Branch sufficient control over the independent counsel to ensure that the President is able to perform his constitutionally assigned duties.

VI

In sum, we conclude today that it does not violate the Appointments Clause for Congress to vest the appointment of independent counsel in the Special Division; that the powers exercised by the Special Division under the Act do not violate *697Article III; and that the Act does not violate the separation-.of-powers principle by impermissibly interfering with the functions of the Executive Branch. The decision, of the Court of Appeals is therefore

Reversed.

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

Justice Scalia,

dissenting.

It is the proud boast of our democracy that we have “a government of laws and not of men.” Many Americans are familiar with that phrase; not many know its derivation. It comes from Part the First, Article XXX, of the Massachusetts Constitution of 1780, which reads in full as follows:

“In the government of this Commonwealth, the legislative department shall never exercise the executive and judicial powers, or either of them: The executive shall never exercise the legislative and judicial powers, or either of them: The judicial shall never exercise the legislative and executive powers, or either of them: to the end it may be a government of laws and not of men.”

The Framers of the Federal Constitution similarly viewed the principle of separation of powers as the absolutely central guarantee of a just Government. In No. 47 of The Federalist; Madison wrote that “[n]o political truth is certainly of greater intrinsic value, or is stamped with the authority of more enlightened patrons of liberty.” The Federalist No. 47, p. 301 (C. Rossiter ed. 1961) (hereinafter Federalist). Without a secure structure of separated powers, our Bill of Rights would be worthless, as are the bills of rights of many nations of the world that have adopted, or even improved upon, the mere words of ours.

The principle of separation of powers is expressed in our Constitution in the first section of each of the first three Articles. Article I, § 1, provides that “[a]ll legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United *698States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives.” Article III, §1, provides that “[t]he judicial Power of the United States, shall be vested in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish.” And the provision at issue here, Art. II, § 1, cl. 1, provides that “[t]he executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America.”

But just as the mere words of a Bill of Rights are not self-effectuating, the Framers recognized “[t]he insufficiency of a mere parchment delineation of the boundaries” to achieve the separation of powers. Federalist No. 73, p. 442 (A. Hamilton). “[T]he great security,” wrote Madison, “against a gradual concentration of the several powers in the same department consists in giving to those who administer each department the necessary constitutional means and personal motives to resist encroachments of the others. The provision for defense must in this, as in all other cases, be made commensurate to the danger of attack.” Federalist No. 51, pp. 321-322. Madison continued:

“But it is not possible to give to each department an equal power of self-defense. In republican government, the legislative authority necessarily predominates. The remedy for this inconveniency is to divide the legislature into different branches; and to render them, by different modes of election and different principles of action, as little connected with each other as the nature of their common functions and their common dependence on the society will admit. ... As the weight of the legislative authority requires that it should be thus divided, the weakness of the executive may require, on the other hand, that it should be fortified.” Id., at 322-323.

The major “fortification” provided, of course, was the veto power. But in addition to providing fortification, the Founders conspicuously and very consciously declined to sap the Executive’s strength in the same way they had weakened *699the Legislature: by dividing the executive power. Proposals to have multiple executives, or a council of advisers with separate authority were rejected. See 1 M. Farrand, Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, pp. 66, 71-74, 88, 91-92 (rev. ed. 1966); 2 id'., at 335-337, 533, 537, 542. Thus, while “[a]ll legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress- of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives,” U. S. Const., Art. I, § 1 (emphasis added), “[t]he executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States,” Art. II, § 1, cl. 1 (emphasis added).

That is what this suit is about. Power. The allocation of power among Congress, the President, and the courts in such fashion as to preserve the equilibrium the Constitution sought to establish — so that “a gradual concentration of the several powers in the same department,” Federalist No. 51, p. 321 (J. Madison), can effectively be resisted. Frequently an issue of this sort will come before the Court clad, so to speak, in sheep’s clothing: the potential of the asserted principle to effect important change in the equilibrium of power is not immediately evident, and must be discerned by a careful and perceptive analysis. But this wolf comes as a wolf.

I

The present case began when the Legislative and Executive Branches became “embroiled in a dispute concerning the scope of the congressional investigatory power,” United States v. House of Representatives of United States, 556 F. Supp. 150, 152 (DC 1983), which — as is often the case with such interbranch conflicts — became quite acrimonious. In the course of oversight hearings into the administration of the Superfund by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), two Subcommittees of the House of Representatives requested and then subpoenaed numerous internal EPA documents. The President responded by personally directing the EPA Administrator not to turn over certain of the docu*700ments, see Memorandum of November 30, 1982, from President Reagan for the Administrator, Environmental Protection Agency, reprinted in H. R. Rep. No. 99-435, pp. 1166-1167 (1985), and by having the Attorney General notify the congressional Subcommittees of this assertion of executive privilege, see Letters of November 30, 1982, from Attorney General William French Smith to Hon. John D. Dingell and Hon. Elliott H. Levitas, reprinted, id., at 1168-1177. In his decision to assert executive privilege, the President was counseled by appellee Olson, who was then Assistant Attorney General of the Department of Justice for the Office of Legal Counsel, a post that has traditionally had responsibility for providing legal advice to the President (subject to approval of the Attorney General). The House’s response was to pass a resolution citing the EPA Administrator, who had possession of the documents, for contempt. Contempt of Congress is a criminal offense. See 2 U. S. C. § 192. The United States Attorney, however, a member of the Executive Branch, initially took no steps to prosecute the contempt citation. Instead, the Executive Branch sought the immediate assistance of the Third Branch by filing a civil action asking the District Court to declare that the EPA Administrator had acted lawfully in withholding the documents under a claim of executive privilege. See ibid. The District Court declined (in my view correctly) to get involved in the controversy, and urged the other two branches to try “[cjompro-mise and cooperation, rather than confrontation.” 556 F. Supp., at 153. After further haggling, the two branches eventually reached an agreement giving the House Subcommittees limited access to the contested documents.

Congress did not, however, leave things there. Certain Members of the House remained angered by the confrontation, particularly by the role played by the Department of Justice. Specifically, the Judiciary Committee remained disturbed by the possibility that the Department had persuaded the President to assert executive privilege despite reservations by the *701EPA; that the Department had “deliberately and unnecessarily precipitated a constitutional confrontation with Congress”; that the Department had not properly reviewed and selected the documents as to which executive privilege was asserted; that the Department had directed the United States Attorney not to present the contempt certification involving the EPA Administrator to a grand jury for prosecution; that the Department had made the decision to sue the House of Representatives; and that the Department had not adequately advised and represented the President, the EPA, and the EPA Administrator. H. R. Rep. No. 99-435, p. 3 (1985) (describing unresolved “questions” that were the basis of the Judiciary Committee’s investigation). Accordingly, staff counsel of the House Judiciary Committee were commissioned (apparently without the knowledge of many of the Committee’s members, see id., at 731) to investigate the Justice Department’s role in the controversy. That investigation lasted 214 years, and produced a 3,000-page report issued by the Committee over the vigorous dissent of all but one of its minority-party members. That report, which among other charges questioned the truthfulness of certain statements made by Assistant Attorney General Olson during testimony in front of the Committee during the early stages of its investigation, was sent to the Attorney General along with a formal request that he appoint an independent counsel to investigate Mr. Olson and others.

As a general matter, the Act before us here requires the Attorney General to apply for the appointment of an independent counsel within 90 days after receiving a request to do so, unless he determines within that period that “there are no reasonable grounds to believe that further investigation or prosecution is warranted.” 28 U. S. C. § 592(b)(1). As a practical matter, it would be surprising if the Attorney General had any choice (assuming this statute is constitutional) but to seek appointment of an independent counsel to pursue the charges against the principal object of the congressional *702request, Mr. Olson. Merely the political consequences (to him and the President) of seeming to break the law by refusing to do so would have been substantial. How could it not be, the public would ask, that a 3,000-page indictment drawn by our representatives over 2!4 years does not even establish “reasonable grounds to believe” that further investigation or prosecution is warranted with respect to at least the principal alleged culprit? But the Act establishes more than just practical compulsion. Although the Court’s opinion asserts that the Attorney General had “no duty to comply with the [congressional] request,” ante, at 694, that is not entirely accurate. He had a duty to comply unless he could conclude that there were “no reasonable grounds to believe,” not that prosecution was warranted, but merely that “further investigation” was warranted, 28 U. S. C. § 592(b)(1) (1982 ed., Supp. V) (emphasis added), after a 90-day investigation in which he was prohibited from using such routine investigative techniques as grand juries, plea bargaining, grants of immunity, or even subpoenas, see § 592(a)(2). The Court also makes much of the fact that “the courts are specifically prevented from reviewing the Attorney General’s decision not to seek appointment, § 592(f).” Ante, at 695. Yes,1 but Congress is not prevented from reviewing it. The context of this statute is acrid with the smell of threatened impeachment. Where, as here, a request for appointment of an inde*703pendent counsel has come from the Judiciary Committee of either House of Congress, the Attorney General must, if he decides not to seek appointment, explain to that Committee why. See also 28 U. S. C. § 595(c) (1982 ed., Supp. V) (independent counsel must report to the House of Representatives information “that may constitute grounds for an impeachment”).

Thus, by the application of this statute in the present case, Congress has effectively compelled a criminal investigation of a high-level appointee of the President in connection with his actions arising out of a bitter power dispute between the President and the Legislative Branch. Mr. Olson may or may not be guilty of a crime; we do not know. But we do know that the investigation of him has been commenced, not necessarily because the President or his authorized subordinates believe it is in the interest of the United States, in the sense that it warrants the diversion of resources from other efforts, and is worth the cost in money and in possible damage to other governmental interests; and not even, leaving aside those normally considered factors, because the President or his authorized subordinates necessarily believe that an investigation is likely to unearth a violation worth prosecuting; but only because the Attorney General cannot affirm, as Congress demands, that there are no reasonable grounds to believe that further investigation is warranted. The decisions regarding the seope of that further investigation, its duration, and, finally, whether or not prosecution should ensue, are likewise beyond the control of the President and his subordinates.

II

If to describe this case is not to decide it, the concept of a government of separate and coordinate powers no longer has meaning. The Court devotes most of its attention to such relatively technical details as the Appointments Clause and the removal power, addressing briefly and only at the end of its opinion the separation of powers. As my prologue sug*704gests, I think that has it backwards. Our opinions are full of the recognition that it is the principle of separation of powers, and the inseparable corollary that each department’s “defense must ... be made commensurate to the danger of attack,” Federalist No. 51, p. 322 (J. Madison), which gives comprehensible content to the Appointments Clause, and determines the appropriate scope of the removal power. Thus, while I will subsequently discuss why our appointments and removal jurisprudence does not support today’s holding, I begin with a consideration of the fountainhead of that jurisprudence, the separation and equilibration of powers.

First, however, I think it well to call to mind an important and unusual premise that underlies our deliberations, a premise not expressly contradicted by the Court’s opinion, but in my view not faithfully observed. It is rare in a case dealing, as this one does, with the constitutionality of a statute passed by the Congress of the United States, not to find anywhere in the Court’s opinion the usual, almost formulary caution that we owe great deference to Congress’ view that what it has done is constitutional, see, e. g., Rostker v. Goldberg, 453 U. S. 57, 64 (1981); Fullilove v. Klutznick, 448 U. S. 448, 472 (1980) (opinion of Burger, C. J.); Columbia Broadcasting System, Inc. v. Democratic National Committee, 412 U. S. 94, 102 (1973); United States v. National Dairy Products Corp., 372 U. S. 29, 32 (1963), and that we will decline to apply the statute only if the presumption of constitutionality can be overcome, see Fullilove, supra, at 473; Columbia Broadcasting, supra, at 103. That caution is not recited by the Court in the present case because it does not apply. Where a private citizen challenges action of the Government on grounds unrelated to separation of powers, harmonious functioning of the system demands that we ordinarily give some deference, or a presumption of validity, to the actions of the political branches in what is agreed, between themselves at least, to be within their respective spheres. But where the issue pertains to separation of pow*705ers, and the political branches are (as here) in disagreement, neither can be presumed correct. The reason is stated concisely by Madison: “The several departments being perfectly co-ordinate by the terms of their common commission, neither of them, it is evident, can pretend to an exclusive or superior right of settling the boundaries between their respective powers . . . Federalist No. 49, p. 314. The playing field for the present case, in other words, is a level one. As one of the interested and coordinate parties to the underlying constitutional dispute, Congress, no more than the President, is entitled to the benefit of the doubt.

To repeat, Article II, § 1, cl. 1, of the Constitution provides:

“The executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States.”

As I described at the outset of this opinion, this does not mean some of the executive power, but all of the executive power. It seems to me, therefore, that the decision of the Court of Appeals invalidating the present statute must be upheld on fundamental separation-of-powers principles if the following two questions are answered affirmatively: (1) Is the conduct of a criminal prosecution (and of an investigation' to decide whether to prosecute) the exercise of purely executive power? (2) Does the statute deprive the President of the United States of exclusive control over the exercise of that power? Surprising to say, the Court appears to concede an affirmative answer to both questions, but seeks to avoid the inevitable conclusion that since the statute vests some purely executive power in a person who is not the President of the United States it is void.

The Court concedes that “[t]here is no real dispute that the functions performed by the independent counsel are ‘executive’,” though it qualifies that concession by adding “in the sense that they are law enforcement functions that typically have been undertaken by officials within the Executive Branch.” Ante, at 691. The qualifier adds nothing but at*706mosphere. In what other sense can one identify “the executive Power” that is supposed to be vested in the President (unless it includes everything the Executive Branch is given to do) except by reference to what has always and everywhere — if conducted by government at all — been conducted never by the legislature, never by the courts, and always by the executive. There is no possible doubt that the independent counsel’s functions fit this description. She is vested with the “full power and independent authority to exercise all investigative and prosecutorial functions and powers- of the Department of Justice [and] the Attorney General.” 28 U. S. C. § 594(a) (1982 ed., Supp. V) (emphasis added). Governmental investigation and prosecution of crimes is a quintessentially executive function. See Heckler v. Chaney, 470 U. S. 821, 832 (1985); Buckley v. Valeo, 424 U. S. 1, 138 (1976); United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S. 683, 693 (1974).

As for the second question, whether the statute before us deprives the President of exclusive control over that quintessentially executive activity: The Court does not, and could not possibly, assert that it does not. That is indeed the whole object of the statute. Instead, the Court points out that the President, through his Attorney General, has at least some control. That concession is alone enough to invalidate the statute, but I cannot refrain from pointing out that the Court greatly exaggerates the extent of that “some” Presidential control. ■ “Most importan[t]” among these controls, the Court asserts, is the Attorney General’s “power to remove the counsel for ‘good cause.’” Ante, at 696. This is somewhat like referring to shackles as an effective means of locomotion. As we recognized in Humphrey's Executor v. United States, 295 U. S. 602 (1935) — indeed, what Humphrey’s Executor was all about — limiting removal power to “good cause” is an impediment to, not an effective grant of, Presidential control. We said that limitation was necessary with respect to members of the Federal Trade Commission, which we found to be “an agency of the legislative and judicial *707departments,” and “wholly disconnected from the executive department,” id., at 630, because “it is quite evident that one who holds his office only during the pleasure of another, cannot be depended upon to maintain an attitude of independence against the latter’s will.” Id., at 629. What we in Humphrey’s Executor found to be a means of eliminating Presidential control, the Court today considers the “most important]” means of assuring Presidential control. Congress, of course, operated under no such illusion when it enacted this statute, describing the “good cause” limitation as “protecting the independent counsel’s ability to act independently of the President’s direct control” since it permits removal only for “misconduct.” H. R. Conf. Rep. 100-452, p. 37 (1987).

Moving on to the presumably “less important” controls that the President retains, the Court notes that no independent counsel may be appointed without a specific request from the Attorney General. As I have discussed above, the condition that renders such a request mandatory (inability to find “no reasonable grounds to believe” that further investigation is warranted) is so insubstantial that the Attorney General’s discretion is severely confined. And once the referral is made, it is for the Special Division to determine the scope and duration of the investigation. See 28 U. S. C. § 593(b) (1982 ed., Supp. V). And in any event, the limited power over referral is irrelevant to the question whether, once appointed, the independent counsel exercises executive power free from the President’s control. Finally, the Court points out that the Act directs the independent counsel to abide by general Justice Department policy, except when not “possible.” See 28 U. S. C. § 594(f) (1982 ed., Supp. V). The exception alone shows this to be an empty promise. Even without that, however, one would be hard put to come up with many investigative or prosecutorial “policies” (other than those imposed by the Constitution or by Congress through law) that are absolute. Almost all investigative and prosecutorial deci*708sions — including the ultimate decision whether, after a technical violation of the law has been found, prosecution is warranted — involve the balancing of innumerable legal and practical considerations. Indeed, even political considerations (in the nonpartisan sense) must be considered, as exemplified by the recent decision of an independent counsel to subpoena the former Ambassador of Canada, producing considerable tension in our relations with that country. See N. Y. Times, May 29, 1987, p. A12, col. 1. Another preeminently political decision is whether getting a conviction in a particular case is worth the disclosure of national security information that would be necessary. The Justice Department and our intelligence agencies are often in disagreement on this point, and the Justice Department does not always win. The present Act even goes so far as specifically to take the resolution of that dispute away from the President and give it to the independent counsel. 28 U. S. C. § 594(a)(6) (1982 ed., Supp. V). In sum, the balancing of various legal, practical, and political considerations, none of which is absolute, is the very essence of prosecutorial discretion. To take this away is to remove the core of the prosecutorial function, and not merely “some” Presidential control.

As I have said, however, it is ultimately irrelevant how much the statute reduces Presidential control. The case is over when the Court acknowledges, as it must, that “[i]t is undeniable that the Act reduces the amount of control or supervision that the Attorney General and, through him, .the President exercises over the investigation and prosecution of a certain class of alleged criminal activity.” Ante, at 695. It effects a revolution in our constitutional jurisprudence for the Court, once it has determined that (1) purely executive functions are at issue here, and (2) those functions have been given to a person whose actions are not fully within the supervision and control of the President, nonetheless to proceed further to sit in judgment of whether “the President’s need to control the exercise of [the independent counsel’s] *709discretion is so central to the functioning of the Executive Branch” as to require complete control, ante, at 691 (emphasis added), whether the conferral of his powers upon someone else “sufficiently deprives the President of control over the independent counsel to interfere impermissibly with [his] constitutional obligation to ensure the faithful execution of the laws,” ante, at 69S (emphasis added), and whether “the Act give[s] the Executive Branch sufficient control over the independent counsel to ensure that the President is able to perform his constitutionally assigned duties,” ante, at 696 (emphasis added). It is not for us to determine, and we have never presumed to determine, how much of the purely executive powers of government must be within the full control of the President. The Constitution prescribes that they all are.

The utter incompatibility of the Court’s approach with our constitutional traditions can be made more clear, perhaps, by applying it to the powers of the other two branches. Is it conceivable that if Congress passed a statute depriving itself of less than full and entire control over some insignificant area of legislation, we would inquire whether the matter was “so central to the functioning of the Legislative Branch” as really to require complete control, or whether the statute gives Congress “sufficient control over the surrogate legislator to ensure that Congress is able to perform its constitutionally assigned duties”? Of course we would have none of that. Once we determined that a purely legislative power was at issue we would require it to be exercised, wholly and entirely, by Congress. Or to bring the point closer to home, consider a statute giving to non-Article III judges just a tiny bit of purely judicial power in a relatively insignificant field, with substantial control, though not total control, in the courts — perhaps “clear error” review, which would be a fair judicial equivalent of the Attorney General’s “for cause” removal power here. Is there any doubt that we would not pause to inquire whether the matter was “so central to the *710functioning of the Judicial Branch” as really to require complete control, or whether we retained “sufficient control over the matters to be decided that we are able to perform our constitutionally assigned duties”? We would say that our “constitutionally assigned duties” include complete control over all exercises of the judicial power — or, as the plurality opinion said in Northern Pipeline Construction Co. v. Marathon Pipe Line Co., 458 U. S. 50, 58-59 (1982): “The inexorable command of [Article III] is clear and definite: The judicial power of the United States must be exercised by courts having the attributes prescribed in Art. III.” We should say here that the President’s constitutionally assigned duties include complete control over investigation and prosecution of violations of the law, and that the inexorable command of Article II is clear and definite: the executive power must be vested in the President of the United States.

Is it unthinkable that the President should have such exclusive power, even when alleged crimes by him or his close associates are at issue? No more so than that Congress should have the exclusive power of legislation, even when what is at issue is its own exemption from the burdens of certain laws. See Civil Rights Act of 1964, Title VII, 42 U. S. C. §2000e et seq. (prohibiting “employers,” not defined to include the United States, from discriminating on the basis of race, color, religion, sex, or national origin). No more so than that this Court should have the exclusive power to pronounce the final decision on justiciable cases and controversies, even those pertaining to the constitutionality of a statute reducing the salaries of the Justices. See United States v. Will, 449 U. S. 200, 211-217 (1980). A system of separate and coordinate powers necessarily involves an acceptance of exclusive power that can theoretically be abused. As we reiterate this very day, “[i]t is a truism that constitutional protections have costs.” Coy v. Iowa, post, at 1020. While the separation of powers may prevent us from righting every wrong, it does so in order to ensure that we do not lose lib*711erty. The checks against any branch’s abuse of its exclusive powers are twofold: First, retaliation by one of the other branch’s use of its exclusive powers: Congress, for example, can impeach the executive who willfully fails to enforce the laws; the executive can decline to prosecute under unconstitutional statutes, cf. United States v. Lovett, 328 U. S. 303 (1946); and the courts can dismiss malicious prosecutions. Second, and ultimately, there is the political check that the people will replace those in the political branches (the branches more “dangerous to the political rights' of the Constitution,” Federalist No. 78, p. 465) who are guilty of abuse. Political pressures produced special prosecutors — for Teapot Dome and for Watergate, for example — long before this statute created the independent counsel. See Act of Feb. 8, 1924, ch. 16, 43 Stat. 5-6; 38 Fed. Reg. 30738 (1973).

The Court has, nonetheless, replaced the clear constitutional prescription that the executive power belongs to the President with a “balancing test.” What are the standards to determine how the balance is to be struck, that is, how much removal of Presidential power is too much? Many countries of the world get along with an executive that is much weaker than ours — in fact, entirely dependent upon the continued support of the legislature. Once we depart from the text of the Constitution, just where short of that do we stop? The most amazing feature of the Court’s opinion is that it does not even purport to give an answer. It simply announces, with no analysis, that the ability to control the decision whether to investigate and prosecute the President’s closest advisers, and indeed the President himself, is not “so central to the functioning of the Executive Branch” as to be constitutionally required to be within the President’s control. Apparently that is so because we say it is so. Having abandoned as the basis for our decisionmaking the text of Article II that “the executive Power” must be vested in the President, the Court does not even attempt to craft a substitute criterion — a “justiciable standard,” see, e. g., Baker v. Carr, *712369 U. S. 186, 210 (1962); Coleman v. Miller, 307 U. S. 433, 454-455 (1939), however remote from the Constitution — that today governs, and in the future will govern, the decision of such questions. Evidently, the governing standard is to be what might be called the unfettered wisdom of a majority of this Court, revealed to an obedient people on a case-by-case basis. This is not only not the government of laws that the Constitution established; it is not a government of laws at all.

In my view, moreover, even as an ad hoc, standardless judgment the Court’s conclusion must be wrong. Before this statute was passed, the President, in taking action disagreeable to the Congress, or an executive officer giving advice to the President or testifying before Congress concerning one of those many matters on which the two branches are from time to time at odds, could be assured that his acts and motives would be adjudged — insofar as the decision whether to conduct a criminal investigation and to prosecute is concerned— in the Executive Branch, that is, in a forum attuned to the interests and the policies of the Presidency. That was one of the natural advantages the Constitution gave to the Presidency, just as it gave Members of Congress (and their staffs) the advantage of not being prosecutable for anything said or done in their legislative capacities. See U. S. Const., Art. I, §6, cl. 1; Gravel v. United States, 408 U. S. 606 (1972). It is the very object of this legislation to eliminate that assurance of a sympathetic forum. Unless it can honestly be said that there are “no reasonable grounds to believe” that further investigation is warranted, further investigation must ensue; and the conduct of the investigation, and determination of whether to prosecute, will be given to a person neither selected by nor subject to the control of the. President — who will in turn assemble a staff by finding out, presumably, who is willing to put aside whatever else they are doing, for an indeterminate period of time, in order to investigate and prosecute the President or a particular named individual in his administration. The prospect is frightening (as I will dis*713cuss at some greater length at the conclusion of this opinion) even outside the context of a bitter, interbranch political dispute. Perhaps the boldness of the President himself will not be affected — though I am not even sure of that. (How much easier it is for Congress, instead of accepting the political damage attendant to the commencement of impeachment proceedings against the President on trivial grounds — or, for that matter, how easy it is for one of the President’s political foes outside of Congress — simply to trigger a debilitating criminal investigation of the Chief Executive under this law.) But as for the President’s high-level assistants, who typically have no political base of support, it is as utterly unrealistic to think that they will not be intimidated by this prospect, and that their advice to him and their advocacy of his interests before a hostile Congress will not be affected, as it would be to think that the Members of Congress and their staffs would be unaffected by replacing the Speech or Debate Clause with a similar provision. It deeply wounds the President, by substantially reducing the President’s ability to protect himself and his staff. That is the whole object of the law, of course, and I cannot imagine why the Court believes it does not succeed.

Besides weakening the Presidency by reducing the zeal of his staff, it must also be obvious that the institution of the independent counsel enfeebles him more directly in his constant confrontations with Congress, by eroding his public support. Nothing is so politically effective as the ability to charge that one’s opponent and his associates are not merely wrongheaded, naive, ineffective, but, in all probability, “crooks.” And nothing so effectively gives an appearance of validity to such charges as a Justice Department investigation and, even better, prosecution. The present statute provides ample means for that sort of attack, assuring that massive and lengthy investigations will occur, not merely when the Justice Department in the application of its usual standards believes they are called for, but whenever it *714cannot be said that there are “no reasonable grounds to believe” they are called for. The statute’s highly visible procedures assure, moreover, that unlike most investigations these will be widely known and prominently displayed. Thus, in the 10 years since the institution of the independent counsel was established by law, there have been nine highly publicized investigations, a source of constant political damage to two administrations. That they could not remotely be described as merely the application of “normal” investigatory and prosecutory standards is demonstrated by, in addition to the language of the statute (“no reasonable grounds to believe”), the following facts; Congress appropriates approximately $50 million annually for general legal activities, salaries, and expenses of the Criminal Division of the Department of Justice. See 1989 Budget Request of the Department of Justice, Hearings before a Subcommittee of the House Committee on Appropriations, 100th Cong., 2d Sess., pt. 6, pp. 284-285 (1988) (DOJ Budget Request). This money is used to support “[f]ederal appellate activity,’’-“[organized crime prosecution,” “[p]ublic integrity” and “[f]raud” matters, “[njarcotic & dangerous drug prosecution,” “[internal security,” “[g]eneral litigation and legal advice,” “special investigations,” “[pjrosecution support,” “[o]rganized crime drug enforcement,” and “[mjanagement & administration.” Id., at 284. By comparison, between May 1986 and August 1987, four independent counsel (not all of whom were operating for that entire period of time) spent almost $5 million (one-tenth of the amount annually appropriated to the entire Criminal Division), spending almost $1 million in the month of August 1987 alone. See Washington Post, Oct. 21, 1987, p. A21, col. 5. For fiscal year 1989, the Department of Justice has requested $52 million for the entire Criminal Division, DOJ Budget Request 285, and $7 million to support the activities of independent counsel, id., at 25.

In sum, this statute does deprive the President of substantial control over the prosecutory functions performed by the *715independent counsel, and it does substantially affect the balance of powers. That the Court could possibly conclude otherwise demonstrates both the wisdom of our former constitutional system, in which the degree of reduced control and political impairment were irrelevant, since all purely executive power had to be in the President; and the folly of the new system of standardless judicial allocation of powers we adopt today.

Ill

As I indicated earlier, the basic separation-of-powers principles I have discussed are what give life and content to our jurisprudence concerning the President’s power to appoint and remove officers. The same result of unconstitutionality is therefore plainly indicated by our case law in these areas.

Article II, §2, cl. 2, of the Constitution provides as follows:

“[The President] shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments.”

Because appellant (who all parties and the Court agree is an officer of the United States, ante, at 671, n. 12) was not appointed by the President with the advice and consent of the Senate, but rather by the Special Division of the United States Court of Appeals, her appointment is constitutional only if (1) she is an “inferior” officer within the meaning of the above Clause, and (2) Congress may vest her appointment in a court of law.

As to the first of these inquiries, the Court does not attempt to “decide exactly” what estáblishes the line between *716principal and “inferior” officers, but is confident that, whatever the line may be, appellant “clearly falls on the ‘inferior officer’ side” of it. Ante, at 671. The Court gives three reasons: First, she “is subject to removal by a higher Executive Branch official,” namely, the Attorney General. Ibid. Second, she is “empowered by the Act to perform only certain, limited duties.” Ibid. Third, her office is “limited in jurisdiction” and “limited in tenure.” Ante, at 672.

The first of these lends no support to the view that appellant is an inferior officer. Appellant is removable only for “good cause” or physical or mental incapacity. 28 U. S. C. §596(a)(1) (1982 ed., Supp. V). By contrast, most (if not all) principal officers in the Executive Branch may be removed by the President at will. I fail to see how the fact that appellant is more difficult to remove than most principal officers helps to establish that she is an inferior officer. And I do not see how it could possibly make any difference to her superior or inferior status that the President’s limited power to remove her must be exercised through the Attorney General. If she were removable at will by the Attorney General, then she would be subordinate to him and thus properly designated as inferior; but the Court essentially admits that she is not subordinate. See ante, at 671. If it were- common usage to refer to someone as “inferior” who is subject to removal for cause by another, then one-would say that the President is “inferior” to Congress.

The second reason offered by the Court — that appellant performs only certain, limited duties — may be relevant to whether she is an inferior officer, but it mischaracterizes the extent of her powers. As the Court states: “Admittedly, the Act delegates to appellant [the] ‘full power and independent authority to exercise all investigative and prosecutorial functions and powers of the Department of Justice.Ibid., quoting 28 U. S. C. §594(a) (1982 ed., Supp. V) (emphasis *717added).2 Moreover, in addition to this general grant of power she is given a broad range of specifically enumerated powers, including a power not even the Attorney General possesses: to “contes[t] in court. . . any claim of privilege or attempt to withhold evidence on grounds of national security.” § 594(a)(6).3 Once all of this is “admitted,” it seems *718to me impossible to maintain that appellant’s authority is so “limited” as to render her an inferior officer. The Court seeks to brush this away by asserting that the independent counsel’s power does not include any authority to “formulate policy for the Government or the Executive Branch.” Ante, at 671. But the same could be said for all officers of the Government, with the single exception of the President. All of them only formulate policy within their respective spheres of responsibility — as does the independent counsel, who must comply with the policies of the Department of Justice only to the extent possible. § 594(f).

The final set of reasons given by the Court for why the independent counsel clearly is an inferior officer emphasizes the limited nature of her jurisdiction and tenure. Taking the latter first, I find nothing unusually limited about the independent counsel’s tenure. To the contrary, unlike most high ranking Executive Branch officials, she continues to serve until she (or the Special Division) decides that her work is substantially completed. See §§ 596(b)(1), (b)(2). This particular independent prosecutor has already served more than two years, which is at least as long as many Cabinet officials. As to the scope of her jurisdiction, there can be no doubt that is small (though far from unimportant). But within it she exercises more than the full power of the Attorney General. The Ambassador to Luxembourg is not anything less than a principal officer, simply because Luxembourg is small. And the federal judge who sits in a small district is not for that reason “inferior in rank and authority.” If the mere fragmentation of executive responsibilities into small compartments suffices to render the heads of each of those compartments inferior officers, then Congress could deprive the President of the right to appoint his chief law enforcement officer by dividing up the Attorney General’s responsibilities among a number of “lesser” functionaries.

*719More fundamentally, however, it is not clear from the Court’s opinion why the factors it discusses — even if applied correctly to the facts of this case — are determinative of the question of inferior officer status. The apparent source of these factors is a statement in United States v. Germaine, 99 U. S. 508, 511 (1879) (discussing United States v. Hartwell, 6 Wall. 385, 393 (1868)), that “the term [officer] embraces the ideas of tenure, duration, emolument, and duties.” See ante, at 672. Besides the fact that this was dictum, it was dictum in a case where the distinguishing characteristics of inferior officers versus superior officers were in no way relevant, but rather only the distinguishing characteristics of an “officer of the United States” (to which the criminal statute at issue applied) as opposed to a mere employee. Rather than erect a theory of who is an inferior officer on the foundation of such an irrelevancy, I think it preferable to look to the text of the Constitution and the division of power that it establishes. These demonstrate, I think, that the independent counsel is not an inferior officer because she is not subordinate to any officer in the Executive Branch (indeed, not even to the President). Dictionaries in use at the time of the Constitutional Convention gave the word “inferiour” two meanings which it still bears today: (1) “[l]ower in place, . . . station, . . . rank of life, . . . value or excellency,” and (2) “[subordinate.” S. Johnson, Dictionary of the English Language (6th ed. 1785). In a document dealing with the structure (the constitution) of a government, one would naturally expect the word to bear the latter meaning — indeed, in such a context it would be unpardonably careless to use the word unless a relationship of subordination was intended. If what was meant was merely “lower in station or rank,” one would use instead a term such as “lesser officers.” At the only other point in the Constitution at which the word “inferior” appears, it plainly connotes a relationship of subordination. Article III vests the judicial power of the United States in “one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as *720the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish.” U. S. Const., Art. Ill, §1 (emphasis added). In Federalist No. 81, Hamilton pauses to describe the “inferior” courts authorized by Article III as inferior in the sense that they are “subordinate” to the Supreme Court. See id., at 485, n., 490, n.

That “inferior” means “subordinate” is also consistent with what little we know about the evolution of the Appointments Clause. As originally reported to the Committee on Style, the Appointments Clause provided no “exception” from the standard manner of appointment (President with the advice and consent of the Senate) for inferior officers. 2 M. Farrand, Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, pp. 498-499, 599 (rev. ed. 1966). On September 15, 1787, the last day of the Convention before the proposed Constitution was signed, in the midst of a host of minor changes that were being considered, Gouverneur Morris moved to add the exceptions clause. Id., at 627. No great debate ensued; the only disagreement was over whether it was necessary at all. Id., at 627-628. Nobody thought that it was a fundamental change, excluding from the President’s appointment power and the Senate’s confirmation power a category of officers who might function on their own, outside the supervision of those appointed in the more cumbersome fashion. And it is significant that in the very brief discussion Madison mentions (as in apparent contrast to the “inferior officers” covered by the provision) “Superior Officers.” Id., at 637. Of course one is not a “superior officer” without some supervisory . responsibility, just as, I suggest, one is not an “inferior officer” within the meaning of the provision under discussion unless one is subject to supervision by a “superior officer.” It is perfectly obvious, therefore, both from the relative brevity of the discussion this addition received, and from the content of that discussion, that it was intended merely to make clear (what Madison thought already was clear, see id., at 627) that those officers appointed by the President with Senate *721approval could on their own appoint their subordinates, who would, of course, by chain of command still be under the direct control of the President. ■

This interpretation is, moreover, consistent with our admittedly sketchy precedent in this area. For example, in United. States v. Eaton, 169 U. S. 331 (1898), we held that the appointment by an Executive Branch official other than the President of a “vice-consul,” charged with the. duty of temporarily performing the function of the consul, did not violate the Appointments Clause. In doing so, we repeatedly referred to the “vice-consul” as a “subordinate” officer. Id., at 343. See also United States v. Germaine, supra, at 511 (comparing “inferior” commissioners and bureau officers to heads of department, describing the former as “mere . . . subordinates”) (dicta); United States v. Hartwell, supra, at 394 (describing clerk appointed by Assistant Treasurer with approval of Secretary of the Treasury as a “subordinate office[r]”) (dicta). More recently, in United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S. 683 (1974), we noted that the Attorney General’s appointment of the Watergate Special Prosecutor was made pursuant to the Attorney General’s “power to appoint subordinate officers to assist him in the discharge of his duties.” Id., at 694 (emphasis added). The Court’s citation of Nixon as support for its view that the independent counsel is an inferior officer is simply not supported by a reading of the case. We explicitly stated that the Special Prosecutor was a “subordinate office[r],” ibid., because, in the end, the President or the Attorney General could have removed him at any time, if by no other means than amending or revoking the regulation defining his authority. Id., at 696. Nor are any of the other cases cited by the Court in support of its view inconsistent with the natural reading that an inferior officer must at least be subordinate to another officer of the United States. In Ex parte Siebold, 100 U. S. 371 (1880), we upheld the appointment by a court of federal “Judges of Election,” who were charged with various duties involving the oversee*722ing of local congressional elections. Contrary to the Court’s assertion, see ante, at 673, we did not specifically find that these officials were inferior officers for purposes of the Appointments Clause, probably because no one had contended that they were principal officers. Nor can the case be said to represent even an assumption on our part that they were inferior without being subordinate. The power of assisting in the judging of elections that they were exercising was assuredly not a purely executive power, and if we entertained any assumption it was probably that they, like the marshals who assisted them, see Siebold, 100 U. S., at 380, were subordinate to the courts, see id., at 397. Similarly, in Go-Bart Importing Co. v. United States, 282 U. S. 344 (1931), where we held that United States commissioners were inferior officers, we made plain that they were subordinate to the district courts which appointed them: “The commissioner acted not as a court, or as a judge of any court, but as a mere officer of the district court in proceedings of which that court had authority to take control at any time.” Id., at 354.

To be sure, it is not a sufficient condition for “inferior”, officer status that one be subordinate to a principal officer. Even an officer who is subordinate to a department head can be a principal officer. That is clear from the brief exchange following Gouverneur Morris’ suggestion of the addition of the exceptions clause for inferior officers. Madison responded:

“It does not go far enough if it be necessary at all — Superior Officers below Heads of Departments ought in some cases to have the appointment of the lesser offices.” 2 M. Farrand, Records of the Federal Convention, of 1787, p. 627 (rev. ed. 1966) (emphasis added).

But it is surely a necessary condition for inferior officer status that the officer be subordinate to another officer.

The independent counsel is not even subordinate to the President. The Court essentially admits as much, noting that “appellant may not be ‘subordinate’ to the Attorney Gen*723eral (and the President) insofar as she possesses a degree of independent discretion to exercise the powers delegated to her under the Act.” Ante, at 671. In fact, there is no doubt about it. As noted earlier, the Act specifically grants her the “full power and independent authority to exercise all investigative and prosecutorial functions of the Department of Justice,” 28 U. S. C. § 594(a) (1982 ed., Supp. V), and makes her removable only for “good cause,” a limitation specifically intended to ensure that she be independent of, not subordinate to, the President and the Attorney General. See H. R. Conf. Rep. No. 100-452, p. 37 (1987).

Because appellant is not subordinate to another officer, she is not an “inferior” officer and her appointment other than by the President with the advice and consent of the Senate is unconstitutional.

IV

I will not discuss at any length why the restrictions upon the removal of the independent counsel also violate our established precedent dealing with that specific subject. For most of it, I simply refer the reader to the scholarly opinion of Judge Silberman for the Court of Appeals below. See In re Sealed Case, 267 U. S. App. D. C. 178, 838 F. 2d 476 (1988). I cannot avoid commenting, however, about the essence of what the Court has done to our removal jurisprudence today.

There is, of course, no provision in the Constitution stating who may remove executive officers, except the provisions for removal by impeachment. Before the present decision it was established, however, (1) that the President’s power to remove principal officers who exercise purely executive powers could not be restricted, see Myers v. United States, 272 U. S. 52, 127 (1926), and (2) that his power to remove inferior officers who exercise purely executive powers, and whose appointment Congress had removed from the usual procedure of Presidential appointment with Senate consent, could be restricted, at least where the appointment had been made by *724an officer of the Executive Branch, see ibid.; United States v. Perkins, 116 U. S. 483, 485 (1886).4

The Court could have resolved the removal power issue in this case by simply relying upon its erroneous conclusion that the independent counsel was an inferior officer, and then extending our holding that the removal of inferior officers appointed by the Executive can be restricted, to a new holding that even the removal of inferior officers appointed by the courts can be restricted. That would in my view be a considerable and unjustified extension, giving the Executive full discretion in neither the selection nor the removal of a purely executive officer. The course the Court has chosen, however, is even worse.

Since our 1935 decision in Humphrey’s Executor v. United States, 295 U. S. 602 — which was considered by many at the time the product of an activist, anti-New Deal Court bent on reducing the power of President Franklin Roosevelt — it has been established that the line of permissible restriction upon removal of principal officers lies at the point at which the powers exercised by those officers are no longer purely executive. Thus, removal restrictions have been generally regarded as lawful for so-called “independent regulatory *725agencies,” such as the Federal Trade Commission, see ibid,.; 15 U. S. C. §41, the Interstate Commerce Commission, see 49 U. S. C. § 10301(c) (1982 ed., Supp. IV), and the Consumer Product Safety Commission, see 15 U. S. C. § 2053(a), which engage substantially in what has been called the “quasi-legislative activity” of rulemaking, and for members of Article I courts, such as the Court of Military Appeals, see 10 U. S. C. § 867(a)(2), who engage in the “quasi-judicial” function of adjudication. It has often been observed, correctly in my view, that the line between “purely executive” functions and “quasi-legislative” or “quasi-judicial” functions is not a clear one or even a rational one. See ante, at 689-691; Bowsher v. Synar, 478 U. S. 714, 761, n. 3 (1986) (White, J., dissenting); FTC v. Ruberoid Co., 343 U. S. 470, 487-488 (1952) (Jackson, J., dissenting). But at least it permitted the identification of certain officers, and certain agencies, whose functions were entirely within the control of the President. Congress had to be aware of that restriction in its legislation. Today, however, Humphrey’s Executor is swept into the dustbin of repudiated constitutional principles. “[0]ur present considered view,” the Court says, “is that the determination of whether the Constitution allows Congress to impose a ‘good cause’-type restriction on the President’s power to remove an official cannot be made to turn on whether or not that official is classified as ‘purely executive.’” Ante, at 689. What Humphrey’s Executor (and presumably Myers) really means, we are now told, is not that there are any “rigid categories of those officials who may or may not be removed at will by the President,” but simply that Congress cannot “interefere with the President’s exercise of the ‘executive power’ and his constitutionally appointed duty to ‘take care that the laws be faithfully executed,’” ante, at 689-690.

One can hardly grieve for the shoddy treatment given today to Humphrey’s Executor, which, after all, accorded the same indignity (with much less justification) to Chief Justice *726Taft’s opinion 10 years earlier in Myers v. United States, 272 U. S. 52 (1926) — gutting, in six quick pages devoid of textual or historical precedent for the novel principle it set forth, a carefully researched and reasoned 70-page opinion. It is in fact comforting to witness the reality that he who lives by the ipse dixit dies by the ipse dixit. But one must grieve for the Constitution. Humphrey's Executor at least had the decency formally to observe the constitutional principle that the President had to be the repository of «(/ 'executive power, see 295 U. S., at 627-628, which, as Myers carefully explained, necessarily means that he must be able to discharge those who do not perform executive functions according to his liking. As we noted in Bowsher, once an officer is appointed ‘“it is only the authority that can remove him, and not the authority that appointed him, that he must fear and, in the performance of his functions, obey.’” 478 U. S., at 726, quoting Synar v. United States, 626 F. Supp. 1374, 1401 (DC 1986) (Scalia, Johnson, and Gasch, JJ.). By contrast, “our present considered view” is simply that any executive officer’s removal can be restricted, so long as the President remains “able to accomplish his constitutional role.” Ante, at 690. There are now no lines. If the removal of a prosecutor, the virtual embodiment of the power to “take care that the laws be faithfully executed,” can be restricted, what officer’s removal cannot? This is an open invitation for Congress to experiment. What about a special Assistant Secretary of State, with responsibility for one very narrow area of foreign policy, who would not only have to be confirmed by the Senate but could also be removed only pursuant to certain carefully designed restrictions? Could this possibly render the President “Lunjable to accomplish his constitutional role”? Or a special Assistant Secretary of Defense for Procurement? The possibilities are endless, and the Court does not understand what the separation of powers, what “[ajmbition . . . counteract[ing] ambition,” Federalist No. 51, p. 322 (Madison), is all about, if it does not expect Congress to try them. As far as I can discern from the Court's opinion, it is now *727open season upon the President’s removal power for all executive officers, with not even the superficially principled restriction of Humphrey’s Executor as cover. The Court essentially says to the President: “Trust us. We will make sure that you are able to accomplish your constitutional role.” I think the Constitution gives the President — and the people-more protection than that.

V

The purpose of the separation and equilibration of powers in general, and of the unitary Executive in particular, was not merely to assure effective government but to preserve individual freedom. Those who hold or have held offices covered by the Ethics in Government Act are entitled to that protection as much as the rest of us, and I conclude my discussion by considering the effect of the Act upon the fairness of the process they receive.

Only someone who has worked in the field of law enforcement can fully appreciate the vast power and the immense discretion that are placed in the hands of a prosecutor with respect to the objects of his investigation. Justice Robert Jackson, when he was Attorney General under President Franklin Roosevelt, described it in a memorable speech to United States Attorneys, as follows:

“There is a most important reason why the prosecutor should have, as nearly as possible, a detached and impartial view of all groups in his community. Law enforcement is not automatic. It isn’t blind. One of the greatest difficulties of the position of prosecutor is that he must pick his cases, because no prosecutor can even investigate all of the cases in which he receives complaints. If the Department of Justice were to make even a pretense of reaching every probable violation of federal law, ten times its present staff will be inadequate. We know that no local police force can strictly enforce the traffic laws, or it would arrest half the driving population on *728any given morning. What every prosecutor is practically required to do is to select the cases for prosecution and to select those in which the offense is the most flagrant, the public harm the greatest, and the proof the most certain.

“If the prosecutor is obliged to choose his case, it follows that he can choose his defendants. Therein is the most dangerous power of the prosecutor: that he will pick people that he thinks he should get, rather than cases that need to be prosecuted. With the law books filled with a great assortment of crimes, a prosecutor stands a fair chance of finding at least a technical violation of some act on the part of almost anyone. In such a case, it is not a question of discovering the commission of a crime and then looking for the man who has committed it, it is a question of picking the man and then searching the law books, or putting investigators to work, to pin some offense on him. It is in this realm — in which the prosecutor picks some person whom he dislikes or desires to embarrass, or selects some group of unpopular persons and then looks for an offense, that the greatest danger of abuse of prosecuting power lies. It is here that law enforcement becomes personal, and the real crime becomes that of being unpopular with the predominant or governing group, being attached to the wrong political views, or being personally obnoxious to or in the way of the prosecutor himself.” R. Jackson, The Federal Prosecutor, Address Delivered at the Second Annual Conference of United States Attornevs, April 1, 1940.

Under our system of government, the primary check against prosecutorial abuse is a political one. The prosecutors who exercise this awesome discretion are selected and can be removed by a President, whom the people have trusted enough to elect. Moreover, when crimes are not investigated and prosecuted fairly, nonselectively, with a rea*729sonable sense of proportion, the President pays the cost in political damage to his administration. If federal prosecutors “pick people that [they] thin[k] [they] should get, rather than cases that need to be prosecuted,” if they amass many more resources against a particular prominent individual, or against a particular class of political protesters, or against members of a particular political party, than the gravity of the alleged offenses or the record of successful prosecutions seems to warrant, the unfairness will come home to roost in the Oval Office. I leave it. to the reader to recall the examples of this in recent years. That result, of course, was precisely what the Founders had in mind when they provided that all executive powers would be exercised by a single Chief Executive. As Hamilton put it, “[t]he ingredients which constitute safety in the republican sense are a due dependence on the people, and a due responsibility.” Federalist No. 70, p. 424. The President is directly dependent on the people, and since there is only one President, he is responsible. The people know whom to blame, whereas “one of the weightiest objections to a plurality in the executive ... is that it tends to conceal faults and destroy responsibility.” Id., at 427.

That is the system of justice the rest of us are entitled to, but what of that select class consisting of present or former high-level Executive Branch officials? If an allegation is made against them of any violation of any federal criminal law (except Class B or C misdemeanors or infractions) the Attorney General must give it his attention. That in itself is not objectionable. But if, after a 90-day investigation without the benefit of normal investigatory tools, the Attorney General is unable to say that there are “no reasonable grounds to believe” that further investigation is warranted, a process is set in motion that is not in the full control of persons “dependent on the people,” and whose flaws cannot be blamed on the President. An independent counsel is selected, and the scope of his or her authority prescribed, by a *730panel of judges. What if they are politically partisan, as judges have been known to be, and select a prosecutor antagonistic to the administration, or even to the particular individual who has been selected for this special treatment? There is no remedy for that, not even a political one. Judges, after all, have life tenure, and appointing a surefire enthusiastic prosecutor could hardly be considered an impeachable offense. So if there is anything wrong with the selection, there is effectively no one to blame. The independent counsel thus selected proceeds to assemble a staff. As I observed earlier, in the nature of things this has to be done by finding lawyers who are willing to lay aside their current careers for an indeterminate amount of time, to take on a job that has no prospect of permanence and little prospect for promotion. One thing is certain, however: it involves investigating and perhaps prosecuting a particular individual. Can one imagine a less equitable manner of fulfilling the executive responsibility to investigate and prosecute? What would be the reaction if, in an area not covered by this statute, the Justice Department posted a public notice inviting applicants to assist in an investigation and possible prosecution of a certain prominent person? Does this not invite what Justice Jackson described as “picking the man and then searching the law books, or putting investigators to work, to pin some offense on him”? To be sure, the investigation must relate to the area of criminal offense specified by the life-tenured judges. But that has often been (and nothing prevents it from being) very broad — and should the independent counsel or his or her staff come up with something beyond that scope, nothing prevents him or her from asking the judges to expand his or her authority or, if that does not work, referring it to the Attorney General, whereupon the whole process would recommence and, if there was “reasonable basis to believe” that further investigation was warranted, that new offense would be referred to the Special Division, which would in all likelihood assign it to the same *731independent counsel. It seems to me not conducive to fairness. But even if it were entirely evident that unfairness was in fact the result — the judges hostile to the administration, the independent counsel an old foe of the President, the staff refugees from the recently defeated administration— there would, he no one accountable to the public to whom the blame could be assigned.

I do not mean to suggest that anything of this sort (other than the inevitable self-selection of the prosecutory staff) occurred in the present case. I know and have the highest regard for the judges on the Special Division, and the independent counsel herself is a woman of accomplishment, impartiality, and integrity. But the fairness of a process must be adjudged on the basis of what it permits to happen, not what it produced in a particular case. It is true, of course, that a similar list of horribles could be attributed to an ordinary Justice Department prosecution — a vindictive prosecutor, an antagonistic staff, etc. But the difference is the difference that the Founders envisioned when they established a single Chief Executive accountable to the people: the blame can- be assigned to someone who can be punished.

The above described possibilities of irresponsible conduct must, as I say, be considered in judging the constitutional acceptability of this process. But they will rarely occur, and in the average case the threat to fairness is quite different. As described in the brief filed on behalf of three ex-Attorneys General from each of the last three administrations:

“The problem is less spectacular but much more worrisome. It is that the institutional environment of the Independent Counsel — specifically, her isolation from the Executive Branch and the internal cheeks and balances it supplies — is designed to heighten, not to check, all of the occupational hazards of the dedicated prosecutor; the danger of too narrow a focus, of the loss of perspective, of preoccupation with the pursuit of one alleged suspect to the exclusion of other interests.” Brief for Edward *732H. Levi, Griffin B. Bell, and William French Smith as Amici Curiae 11.

It is, in other words, an additional advantage of the unitary Executive that it can achieve a more uniform application of the law. Perhaps that is not always achieved, but the mechanism to achieve it is there. The mini-Executive that is the independent counsel, however, operating in an area where so little is law and so much is discretion, is intentionally cut off from the unifying influence of the Justice Department, and from the perspective that multiple responsibilities provide. What would normally be regarded as a technical violation (there are no rules defining such things), may in his or her small world assume the proportions of an indictable offense. What would normally be regarded as an investigation that has reached the level of pursuing such picayune matters that it should be concluded, may to him or her be an investigation that ought to go on for another year. How frightening it must be to have your own independent counsel and staff appointed, with nothing else to do but to investigate you until investigation is no longer worthwhile — with whether it is worthwhile not depending upon what such judgments usually hinge on, competing responsibilities. And to have that counsel and staff decide, with no. basis for comparison, whether what you have done is bad enough, willful enough, and provable enough, to warrant an indictment. How admirable the constitutional system that provides the means to avoid such a distortion. And how unfortunate the judicial decision that has permitted it.

* * *

The notion that every violation of law should be' prosecuted, including — indeed, especially — every violation by those in high places, is an attractive one, and it would be risky to argue in an election campaign that that is not an absolutely overriding value. Fiat justitia, ruat coelum. Let justice be done, though the heavens may fall. The reality is, however, that it is not an absolutely overriding value, and it *733was with the hope that we would be able to acknowledge and apply such realities that the Constitution spared us, by life tenure, the necessity of election campaigns. I cannot imagine that there are not many thoughtful men and women in Congress who realize that the benefits of this legislation are far outweighed by its harmful effect upon our system of government, and even upon the nature of justice received by those men and women who agree to serve in the Executive Branch. But it is difficult to vote not to enact, and even more difficult to vote to repeal, a statute called, appropriately enough, the Ethics in Government Act. If Congress is controlled by the party other than the one to which the President belongs, it has little incentive to repeal it; if it is controlled by the same party, it dare not. By its shortsighted action today, I fear the Court has permanently encumbered the Republic with an institution that will do it great harm.

. Worse than what it has done, however, is the manner in which it has done it. A government of laws means a government of rules. Today’s decision on the basic issue of fragmentation of executive power is ungoverned by rule, and hence ungoverned by law. It extends into the very heart of our most significant constitutional function the “totality of the circumstances” mode of analysis that this Court has in recent years become fond of. Taking all things into account, we conclude that the power taken away from the President he.re is not really too much. The next time executive power is assigned to someone other than the President we may conclude, taking all things into account, that it is too much. That opinion, like this one, will not be confined by any rule. We will describe, as we have today (though I hope more accurately) the effects of the provision in question, and will authoritatively announce: “The President’s need to control the exercise of the [subject officer’s] discretion is so central to the functioning of the Executive Branch as to require complete control.” This is not analysis; it is ad hoc judgment. And it fails to explain why it is not true that — as the text of *734the Constitution seems to require, as the Founders seemed to expect, and as our past cases have uniformly assumed — all purely executive power must be under the control of the President.

The ad hoc approach to constitutional adjudication has real attraction, even apart from its work-saving potential. It is guaranteed to produce a result, in every case, that will make a majority of the Court happy with the law. The law is, by definition, precisely what the majority thinks, taking all things into account, it ought to be. I prefer to rely upon the judgment of the wise men who constructed our system, and of the people who approved it, and of two centuries of history that have shown it to be sound. Like it or not, that judgment says, quite plainly, that “[t]he executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States.”

B

Neither Humphrey's Executor nor Morrison resolves whether the CFPB Director's insulation from removal is constitutional. Start with Humphrey's Executor. Unlike the New Deal-era FTC upheld there, the CFPB is led by a single Director who cannot be described as a "body of experts" and cannot be considered "non-partisan" in the same sense as a group of officials drawn from both sides of the aisle. 295 U.S. at 624, 55 S.Ct. 869. Moreover, while the staggered terms of the FTC Commissioners prevented complete turnovers in agency leadership and guaranteed that there would always be some Commissioners who had accrued significant expertise, the CFPB's single-Director structure and five-year term guarantee abrupt shifts in agency leadership and with it the loss of accumulated expertise.

In addition, the CFPB Director is hardly a mere legislative or judicial aid. Instead of making reports and recommendations to Congress, as the 1935 FTC did, the Director possesses the authority to promulgate binding rules fleshing out 19 federal statutes, including a broad prohibition on unfair and deceptive practices in a major segment of the U. S. economy. And instead of submitting recommended dispositions to an Article III court, the Director may unilaterally issue final decisions awarding legal and equitable relief in administrative adjudications. Finally, the Director's enforcement authority includes the power to seek daunting monetary penalties against private parties on behalf of the United States in federal court-a quintessentially executive power not considered in Humphrey's Executor .4

The logic of Morrison also does not apply. Everyone agrees the CFPB Director is not an inferior officer, and her duties are far from limited. Unlike the independent counsel, who lacked policymaking or administrative authority, the Director has the sole responsibility to administer 19 separate consumer-protection statutes that cover everything from credit cards and car payments to mortgages and student loans. It is true that the independent counsel in Morrison was empowered to initiate criminal investigations and prosecutions, and in that respect wielded core executive power. But that power, while significant, was trained inward to high-ranking Governmental actors identified by others, and was confined to a specified matter in which the Department of Justice had a potential conflict of interest. By contrast, the CFPB Director has the authority to bring the coercive power of the state to bear on millions of private citizens and businesses, imposing even billion-dollar *2201penalties through administrative adjudications and civil actions.

In light of these differences, the constitutionality of the CFPB Director's insulation from removal cannot be settled by Humphrey's Executor or Morrison alone.

C

The question instead is whether to extend those precedents to the "new situation" before us, namely an independent agency led by a single Director and vested with significant executive power. Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 483, 130 S.Ct. 3138. We decline to do so. Such an agency has no basis in history and no place in our constitutional structure.

1

"Perhaps the most telling indication of [a] severe constitutional problem" with an executive entity "is [a] lack of historical precedent" to support it. Id., at 505, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (internal quotation marks omitted). An agency with a structure like that of the CFPB is almost wholly unprecedented.

After years of litigating the agency's constitutionality, the Courts of Appeals, parties, and amici have identified "only a handful of isolated" incidents in which Congress has provided good-cause tenure to principal officers who wield power alone rather than as members of a board or commission. Ibid. "[T]hese few scattered examples"-four to be exact-shed little light. NLRB v. Noel Canning , 573 U.S. 513, 538, 134 S.Ct. 2550, 189 L.Ed.2d 538 (2014).

First, the CFPB's defenders point to the Comptroller of the Currency, who enjoyed removal protection for one year during the Civil War. That example has rightly been dismissed as an aberration. It was "adopted without discussion" during the heat of the Civil War and abandoned before it could be "tested by executive or judicial inquiry." Myers , 272 U.S., at 165, 47 S.Ct. 21. (At the time, the Comptroller may also have been an inferior officer, given that he labored "under the general direction of the Secretary of the Treasury." Ch. 58, 12 Stat. 665.)5

Second, the supporters of the CFPB point to the Office of the Special Counsel (OSC), which has been headed by a single officer since 1978.6 But this first enduring single-leader office, created nearly 200 years after the Constitution was ratified, drew a contemporaneous constitutional objection from the Office of Legal Counsel under President Carter and a subsequent veto on constitutional grounds by President Reagan. See Memorandum Opinion for the General Counsel, Civil Service Commission, 2 Op. OLC 120, 122 (1978); Public Papers of the Presidents, Ronald Reagan, Vol. II, Oct. 26, 1988, pp. 1391-1392 (1991).7 In any event, the OSC exercises *2202only limited jurisdiction to enforce certain rules governing Federal Government employers and employees. See 5 U. S. C. § 1212. It does not bind private parties at all or wield regulatory authority comparable to the CFPB.

Third, the CFPB's defenders note that the Social Security Administration (SSA) has been run by a single Administrator since 1994. That example, too, is comparatively recent and controversial. President Clinton questioned the constitutionality of the SSA's new single-Director structure upon signing it into law. See Public Papers of the Presidents, William J. Clinton, Vol. II, Aug. 15, 1994, pp. 1471-1472 (1995) (inviting a "corrective amendment" from Congress). In addition, unlike the CFPB, the SSA lacks the authority to bring enforcement actions against private parties. Its role is largely limited to adjudicating claims for Social Security benefits.

The only remaining example is the Federal Housing Finance Agency (FHFA), created in 2008 to assume responsibility for Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. That agency is essentially a companion of the CFPB, established in response to the same financial crisis. See Housing and Economic Recovery Act of 2008, 122 Stat. 2654. It regulates primarily Government-sponsored enterprises, not purely private actors. And its single-Director structure is a source of ongoing controversy. Indeed, it was recently held unconstitutional by the Fifth Circuit, sitting en banc. See Collins v. Mnuchin , 938 F.3d 553, 587-588 (2019).

With the exception of the one-year blip for the Comptroller of the Currency, these isolated examples are modern and contested. And they do not involve regulatory or enforcement authority remotely comparable to that exercised by the CFPB. The CFPB's single-Director structure is an innovation with no foothold in history or tradition.8

2

In addition to being a historical anomaly, the CFPB's single-Director configuration is incompatible with our constitutional structure. Aside from the sole exception of the Presidency, that structure scrupulously avoids concentrating power in the hands of any single individual.

"The Framers recognized that, in the long term, structural protections against abuse of power were critical to preserving liberty." Bowsher , 478 U.S., at 730, 106 S.Ct. 3181. Their solution to governmental power and its perils was simple: divide it. To prevent the "gradual concentration" of power in the same hands, they enabled "[a]mbition ... to counteract ambition" at every turn. The Federalist No. 51, p. 349 (J. Cooke ed. 1961) (J. Madison). At the highest level, they "split the atom of sovereignty" itself into one Federal Government and the States. Gamble v. United States , 587 U. S. ----, ----, 139 S.Ct. 1960, 1968, 204 L.Ed.2d 322 (2019) (internal quotation marks omitted). They then divided the "powers of the new Federal Government into three defined categories, Legislative, Executive, and Judicial." Chadha , 462 U.S., at 951, 103 S.Ct. 2764.

*2203They did not stop there. Most prominently, the Framers bifurcated the federal legislative power into two Chambers: the House of Representatives and the Senate, each composed of multiple Members and Senators. Art. I, §§ 2, 3.

The Executive Branch is a stark departure from all this division. The Framers viewed the legislative power as a special threat to individual liberty, so they divided that power to ensure that "differences of opinion" and the "jarrings of parties" would "promote deliberation and circumspection" and "check excesses in the majority." See The Federalist No. 70, at 475 (A. Hamilton); see also id ., No. 51, at 350. By contrast, the Framers thought it necessary to secure the authority of the Executive so that he could carry out his unique responsibilities. See id ., No. 70, at 475-478. As Madison put it, while "the weight of the legislative authority requires that it should be ... divided, the weakness of the executive may require, on the other hand, that it should be fortified." Id ., No. 51, at 350.

The Framers deemed an energetic executive essential to "the protection of the community against foreign attacks," "the steady administration of the laws," "the protection of property," and "the security of liberty." Id ., No. 70, at 471. Accordingly, they chose not to bog the Executive down with the "habitual feebleness and dilatoriness" that comes with a "diversity of views and opinions." Id. , at 476. Instead, they gave the Executive the "[d]ecision, activity, secrecy, and dispatch" that "characterise the proceedings of one man." Id. , at 472.

To justify and check that authority-unique in our constitutional structure-the Framers made the President the most democratic and politically accountable official in Government. Only the President (along with the Vice President) is elected by the entire Nation. And the President's political accountability is enhanced by the solitary nature of the Executive Branch, which provides "a single object for the jealousy and watchfulness of the people." Id., at 479. The President "cannot delegate ultimate responsibility or the active obligation to supervise that goes with it," because Article II "makes a single President responsible for the actions of the Executive Branch." Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 496-497, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (quoting Clinton v. Jones , 520 U.S. 681, 712-713, 117 S.Ct. 1636, 137 L.Ed.2d 945 (1997) (BREYER, J., concurring in judgment)).

The resulting constitutional strategy is straightforward: divide power everywhere except for the Presidency, and render the President directly accountable to the people through regular elections. In that scheme, individual executive officials will still wield significant authority, but that authority remains subject to the ongoing supervision and control of the elected President. Through the President's oversight, "the chain of dependence [is] preserved," so that "the lowest officers, the middle grade, and the highest" all "depend, as they ought, on the President, and the President on the community." 1 Annals of Cong. 499 (J. Madison).

The CFPB's single-Director structure contravenes this carefully calibrated system by vesting significant governmental power in the hands of a single individual accountable to no one. The Director is neither elected by the people nor meaningfully controlled (through the threat of removal) by someone who is. The Director does not even depend on Congress for annual appropriations. See The Federalist No. 58, at 394 (J. Madison) (describing the "power over the purse" as the "most compleat and effectual weapon" in representing the interests of the people). Yet the Director may unilaterally , without meaningful supervision, issue final regulations, *2204oversee adjudications, set enforcement priorities, initiate prosecutions, and determine what penalties to impose on private parties. With no colleagues to persuade, and no boss or electorate looking over her shoulder, the Director may dictate and enforce policy for a vital segment of the economy affecting millions of Americans.

The CFPB Director's insulation from removal by an accountable President is enough to render the agency's structure unconstitutional. But several other features of the CFPB combine to make the Director's removal protection even more problematic. In addition to lacking the most direct method of presidential control-removal at will-the agency's unique structure also forecloses certain indirect methods of Presidential control.

Because the CFPB is headed by a single Director with a five-year term, some Presidents may not have any opportunity to shape its leadership and thereby influence its activities. A President elected in 2020 would likely not appoint a CFPB Director until 2023, and a President elected in 2028 may never appoint one. That means an unlucky President might get elected on a consumer-protection platform and enter office only to find herself saddled with a holdover Director from a competing political party who is dead set against that agenda. To make matters worse, the agency's single-Director structure means the President will not have the opportunity to appoint any other leaders-such as a chair or fellow members of a Commission or Board-who can serve as a check on the Director's authority and help bring the agency in line with the President's preferred policies.

The CFPB's receipt of funds outside the appropriations process further aggravates the agency's threat to Presidential control. The President normally has the opportunity to recommend or veto spending bills that affect the operation of administrative agencies. See Art. I, § 7, cl. 2; Art. II, § 3. And, for the past century, the President has annually submitted a proposed budget to Congress for approval. See Budget and Accounting Act, 1921, ch. 18, § 201, 42 Stat. 20. Presidents frequently use these budgetary tools "to influence the policies of independent agencies." PHH , 881 F.3d at 147 (Henderson, J., dissenting) (citing Pasachoff, The President's Budget as a Source of Agency Policy Control, 125 Yale L. J. 2182, 2191, 2203-2204 (2016) ). But no similar opportunity exists for the President to influence the CFPB Director. Instead, the Director receives over $500 million per year to fund the agency's chosen priorities. And the Director receives that money from the Federal Reserve, which is itself funded outside of the annual appropriations process. This financial freedom makes it even more likely that the agency will "slip from the Executive's control, and thus from that of the people." Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 499, 130 S.Ct. 3138.9

3

Amicus raises three principal arguments in the agency's defense. At the *2205outset, amicus questions the textual basis for the removal power and highlights statements from Madison, Hamilton, and Chief Justice Marshall expressing "heterodox" views on the subject. Brief for Court-Appointed Amicus Curiae 4-5, 28-29. But those concerns are misplaced. It is true that "there is no 'removal clause' in the Constitution," id. , at 1, but neither is there a "separation of powers clause" or a "federalism clause." These foundational doctrines are instead evident from the Constitution's vesting of certain powers in certain bodies. As we have explained many times before, the President's removal power stems from Article II's vesting of the "executive Power" in the President. Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 483, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (quoting Art. II, § 1, cl. 1 ). As for the opinions of Madison, Hamilton, and Chief Justice Marshall, we have already considered the statements cited by amicus and discounted them in light of their context (Madison), the fact they reflect initial impressions later abandoned by the speaker (Hamilton), or their subsequent rejection as ill-considered dicta (Chief Justice Marshall). See Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 500, n. 6, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (Madison) ; Myers , 272 U.S., at 136-139, 142-144, 47 S.Ct. 21 (Hamilton and Chief Justice Marshall).10

Next, amicus offers a grand theory of our removal precedents that, if accepted, could leave room for an agency like the CFPB-and many other innovative intrusions on Article II. According to amicus , Humphrey's Executor and Morrison establish a general rule that Congress may impose "modest" restrictions on the President's removal power, with only two limited exceptions. Brief for Court-Appointed Amicus Curiae 33-37. Congress may not reserve a role for itself in individual removal decisions (as it attempted to do in Myers and Bowsher ). And it may not eliminate the President's removal power altogether (as it effectively did in Free Enterprise Fund ). Outside those two situations, amicus argues, Congress is generally free to constrain the President's removal power. See also post , at 2232 - 2236 (KAGAN, J., concurring in judgment with respect to severability and dissenting in part) (hereinafter dissent) (expressing similar view).

*2206But text, first principles, the First Congress's decision in 1789, Myers , and Free Enterprise Fund all establish that the President's removal power is the rule, not the exception. While we do not revisit Humphrey's Executor or any other precedent today, we decline to elevate it into a freestanding invitation for Congress to impose additional restrictions on the President's removal authority.11

Finally, amicus contends that if we identify a constitutional problem with the CFPB's structure, we should avoid it by broadly construing the statutory grounds for removing the CFPB Director from office. See Brief for Court-Appointed Amicus Curiae 50-53; Tr. of Oral Arg. 57-62. The Dodd-Frank Act provides that the Director may be removed for "inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office." 12 U. S. C. § 5491(c)(3). In amicus ' view, that language could be interpreted to reserve substantial discretion to the President. Brief for Court-Appointed Amicus Curiae 51.

We are not persuaded. For one, Humphrey's Executor implicitly rejected an interpretation that would leave the President free to remove an officer based on disagreements about agency policy. See 295 U.S., at 619, 625-626, 55 S.Ct. 869. In addition, while both amicus and the House of Representatives invite us to adopt whatever construction would cure the constitutional problem, they have not advanced any workable standard derived from the statutory language. Amicus suggests that the proper standard might permit removals based on general policy disagreements, but not specific ones; the House suggests that the permissible bases for removal might vary depending on the context and the Presidential power involved. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 58-60, 76-77. They do not attempt to root either of those standards in the statutory text. Further, although nearly identical language governs the removal of some two-dozen multimember independent agencies, amicus suggests that the standard should vary from agency to agency, morphing as necessary to avoid constitutional doubt. Tr. of Oral Arg. 55-56. We decline to embrace such an uncertain and elastic approach to the text.

Amicus and the House also fail to engage with the Dodd-Frank Act as a whole, which makes plain that the CFPB is an "independent bureau." 12 U. S. C. § 5491(a) ; see also 44 U. S. C. § 3502(5)

(listing the CFPB as an "independent regulatory agency"). Neither amicus nor the House explains how the CFPB would be "independent" if its head were required to implement the President's policies upon pain of removal. See Black's Law Dictionary 838 (9th ed. 2009) (defining "independent" as "[n]ot subject to the control or influence of another"). The Constitution might of course compel the agency to be dependent on the President notwithstanding Congress's contrary intent, but that result cannot fairly be inferred from the statute Congress enacted.

Constitutional avoidance is not a license to rewrite Congress's work to say whatever the Constitution needs it to say in a given situation. Without a proffered interpretation that is rooted in the statutory text and structure, and would avoid the constitutional violation we have identified, we take Congress at its word that it meant to impose a meaningful restriction on the President's removal authority.

The dissent, for its part, largely reprises points that the Court has already considered and rejected: It notes the lack of an express removal provision, invokes Congress's general power to create and define executive offices, highlights isolated statements from individual Framers, downplays the decision of 1789, minimizes Myers , brainstorms methods of Presidential control short of removal, touts the need for creative congressional responses to technological and economic change, and celebrates a pragmatic, flexible approach to American governance. See post , at 2224 - 2238, 2241 - 2243, 2245.

If these arguments sound familiar, it's because they are. They were raised by the dissent in Free Enterprise Fund . Compare post , at 2224 - 2238, 2241 - 2243, 2245, with Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 515-524, 530, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting). The answers to these repeated concerns (beyond those we have already covered) are the same today as they were ten years ago. Today, as then, Congress's "plenary control over the salary, duties, and even existence of executive offices" makes "Presidential oversight" more critical-not less-as the "[o]nly" tool to "counter [Congress's] influence." Id. , at 500, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (opinion of the Court). Today, as then, the various "bureaucratic minutiae" a President might use to corral agency personnel is no substitute for at will removal. Ibid. And today, as always, the urge to meet new technological and societal problems with novel governmental structures must be tempered by constitutional restraints that are not known-and were not chosen-for their efficiency or flexibility. Id., at 499, 130 S.Ct. 3138.

As we explained in Free Enterprise Fund , "One can have a government that functions without being ruled by functionaries, and a government that benefits from expertise without being ruled by experts." Ibid. While "[n]o one doubts Congress's power to create a vast and varied federal bureaucracy," the expansion of that bureaucracy into new territories the Framers could scarcely have imagined only sharpens our duty to ensure that the Executive Branch is overseen by a President accountable to the people. Ibid.

IV

Having concluded that the CFPB's leadership by a single independent Director violates the separation of powers, we now turn to the appropriate remedy. We directed the parties to brief and argue whether the Director's removal protection was severable from the other provisions of the Dodd-Frank Act that establish the CFPB. If so, then the CFPB may continue to exist and operate notwithstanding *2208Congress's unconstitutional attempt to insulate the agency's Director from removal by the President. There is a live controversy between the parties on that question, and resolving it is a necessary step in determining petitioner's entitlement to its requested relief.

As the defendant in this action, petitioner seeks a straightforward remedy. It asks us to deny the Government's petition to enforce the civil investigative demand and dismiss the case. The Government counters that the demand, though initially issued by a Director unconstitutionally insulated from removal, can still be enforced on remand because it has since been ratified by an Acting Director accountable to the President. The parties dispute whether this alleged ratification in fact occurred and whether, if so, it is legally sufficient to cure the constitutional defect in the original demand. That debate turns on case-specific factual and legal questions not addressed below and not briefed here. A remand for the lower Courts to consider those questions in the first instance is therefore the appropriate course-unless such a remand would be futile.

In petitioner's view, it would be. Before the Court of Appeals, petitioner contended that, regardless of any ratification, the demand is unenforceable because the statutory provision insulating the CFPB Director from removal cannot be severed from the other statutory provisions that define the CFPB's authority. See Brief for Appellant in No. 17-56324 (CA9), pp. 27-28, 30-32. If petitioner is correct, and the offending removal provision means the entire agency is unconstitutional and powerless to act, then a remand would be pointless. With no agency left with statutory authority to maintain this suit or otherwise enforce the demand, the appropriate disposition would be to reverse with instructions to deny the Government's petition to enforce the agency's demand for documents and dismiss the case, as petitioner requests.

Accordingly, there is a live controversy over the question of severability. And that controversy is essential to our ability to provide petitioner the relief it seeks: If the removal restriction is not severable, then we must grant the relief requested, promptly rejecting the demand outright. If, on the other hand, the removal restriction is severable, we must instead remand for the Government to press its ratification arguments in further proceedings. Unlike the lingering ratification issue, severability presents a pure question of law that has been fully briefed and argued by the parties. We therefore proceed to address it.12

It has long been settled that "one section of a statute may be repugnant to the Constitution without rendering the whole act void." Loeb v. Columbia Township Trustees , 179 U.S. 472, 490, 21 S.Ct. 174, 45 L.Ed. 280 (1900) (quoting Treasurer of Fayette Cty. v. People's & Drovers' Bank , 47 OhioSt. 503, 523, 25 N.E. 697, 702 (1890) ). Because a "statute bad in part is not necessarily void in its entirety," "[p]rovisions within the legislative power may stand if separable from the bad."

*2209Dorchy v. Kansas , 264 U.S. 286, 289-290, 44 S.Ct. 323, 68 L.Ed. 686 (1924).

"Generally speaking, when confronting a constitutional flaw in a statute, we try to limit the solution to the problem, severing any problematic portions while leaving the remainder intact." Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 508, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (internal quotation marks omitted). Even in the absence of a severability clause, the "traditional" rule is that "the unconstitutional provision must be severed unless the statute created in its absence is legislation that Congress would not have enacted." Alaska Airlines, Inc. v. Brock , 480 U.S. 678, 685, 107 S.Ct. 1476, 94 L.Ed.2d 661 (1987). When Congress has expressly provided a severability clause, our task is simplified. We will presume "that Congress did not intend the validity of the statute in question to depend on the validity of the constitutionally offensive provision ... unless there is strong evidence that Congress intended otherwise." Id., at 686, 107 S.Ct. 1476.

The only constitutional defect we have identified in the CFPB's structure is the Director's insulation from removal. If the Director were removable at will by the President, the constitutional violation would disappear. We must therefore decide whether the removal provision can be severed from the other statutory provisions relating to the CFPB's powers and responsibilities.

In Free Enterprise Fund , we found a set of unconstitutional removal provisions severable even in the absence of an express severability clause because the surviving provisions were capable of "functioning independently" and "nothing in the statute's text or historical context [made] it evident that Congress, faced with the limitations imposed by the Constitution, would have preferred no Board at all to a Board whose members are removable at will." 561 U.S., at 509, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (internal quotation marks omitted).

So too here. The provisions of the Dodd-Frank Act bearing on the CFPB's structure and duties remain fully operative without the offending tenure restriction. Those provisions are capable of functioning independently, and there is nothing in the text or history of the Dodd-Frank Act that demonstrates Congress would have preferred no CFPB to a CFPB supervised by the President. Quite the opposite. Unlike the Sarbanes-Oxley Act at issue in Free Enterprise Fund , the Dodd-Frank Act contains an express severability clause. There is no need to wonder what Congress would have wanted if "any provision of this Act" is "held to be unconstitutional" because it has told us: "the remainder of this Act" should "not be affected." 12 U. S. C. § 5302.

Petitioner urges us to disregard this plain language for three reasons. None is persuasive. First, petitioner dismisses the clause as non-probative "boilerplate" because it applies "to the entire, 848-page Dodd-Frank Act" and "appears almost 600 pages before the removal provision at issue." Brief for Petitioner 45. In petitioner's view, that means we cannot be certain that Congress really meant to apply the clause to each of the Act's provisions. But boilerplate is boilerplate for a reason-because it offers tried-and-true language to ensure a precise and predictable result. That is the case here. The language unmistakably references "any provision of this Act." 12 U. S. C. § 5302 (emphasis added). And it appears in a logical and prominent place, immediately following the Act's title and definitions sections, reinforcing the conclusion that it applies to the entirety of the Act. Congress was not required to laboriously insert duplicative severability clauses, provision *2210by provision, to accomplish its stated objective.

Second, petitioner points to an additional severability clause in the Act that applies only to one of the Act's subtitles. See 15 U. S. C. § 8232. In petitioner's view, that clause would be superfluous if Congress meant the general severability clause to apply across the Act. But "our preference for avoiding surplusage constructions is not absolute." Lamie v. United States Trustee , 540 U.S. 526, 536, 124 S.Ct. 1023, 157 L.Ed.2d 1024 (2004). In this instance, the redundant language appears to reflect the fact that the subtitle to which it refers originated as a standalone bill that was later incorporated into Dodd-Frank. Compare 15 U. S. C. § 8232 with H. R. 2571, 111th Cong., 1st Sess., § 302 (2009). And petitioner does not offer any construction that would give effect to both provisions, making the redundancy both inescapable and unilluminating. See Microsoft Corp. v. i4i L. P. , 564 U.S. 91, 106, 131 S.Ct. 2238, 180 L.Ed.2d 131 (2011) ("The canon against superfluity assists only where a competing interpretation gives effect to every clause and word of a statute." (internal quotation marks omitted)).

Finally, petitioner argues more broadly that Congress would not have wanted to give the President unbridled control over the CFPB's vast authority. Petitioner highlights the references to the CFPB's independence in the statutory text and legislative history, as well as in Professor Warren's and the Obama administration's original proposals. See Brief for Petitioner 43-44 (collecting examples). And petitioner submits that Congress might not have exempted the CFPB from congressional oversight via the appropriations process if it had known that the CFPB would come under executive control.

These observations certainly confirm that Congress preferred an independent CFPB to a dependent one; but they shed little light on the critical question whether Congress would have preferred a dependent CFPB to no agency at all. That is the only question we have the authority to decide, and the answer seems clear. Petitioner assumes that, if we eliminate the CFPB, regulatory and enforcement authority over the statutes it administers would simply revert back to the handful of independent agencies previously responsible for them. See id. , at 46. But, as the Solicitor General and House of Representatives explain, that shift would trigger a major regulatory disruption and would leave appreciable damage to Congress's work in the consumer-finance arena. See Reply Brief for Respondent 21-22; Tr. of Oral Arg. 67-68. One of the agencies whose regulatory authority was transferred to the CFPB no longer exists. See 12 U. S. C. §§ 5412 - 5413 (Office of Thrift Supervision). The others do not have the staff or appropriations to absorb the CFPB's 1,500-employee, 500-million-dollar operations. And none has the authority to administer the Dodd-Frank Act's new prohibition on unfair and deceptive practices in the consumer-finance sector. Given these consequences, it is far from evident that Congress would have preferred no CFPB to a CFPB led by a Director removable at will by the President.

Justice THOMAS would have us junk our settled severability doctrine and start afresh, even though no party has asked us to do so. See post , at 2219 - 2220 (opinion concurring in part and dissenting in part). Among other things, he objects that it is sheer "speculation" that Congress would prefer that its consumer protection laws be enforced by a Director accountable to the President rather than not at all. Post , at 2223 - 2224. We think it clear that Congress would prefer that we use a scalpel rather than a bulldozer in *2211curing the constitutional defect we identify today. And such an approach by this Court can come as no surprise to Congress, which was on notice of constitutional objections to single-Director agencies by multiple past Presidents from both political parties, supra , at 2201 - 2202, and enacted Dodd-Frank against the background of our established severability doctrine.

As in every severability case, there may be means of remedying the defect in the CFPB's structure that the Court lacks the authority to provide. Our severability analysis does not foreclose Congress from pursuing alternative responses to the problem-for example, converting the CFPB into a multimember agency. The Court's only instrument, however, is a blunt one. We have "the negative power to disregard an unconstitutional enactment," Massachusetts v. Mellon , 262 U.S. 447, 488, 43 S.Ct. 597, 67 L.Ed. 1078 (1923) ; see Marbury v. Madison , 1 Cranch 137, 178, 2 L.Ed. 60 (1803), but we cannot re-write Congress's work by creating offices, terms, and the like. "[S]uch editorial freedom ... belongs to the Legislature, not the Judiciary." Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 510, 130 S.Ct. 3138.

Because we find the Director's removal protection severable from the other provisions of Dodd-Frank that establish the CFPB, we remand for the Court of Appeals to consider whether the civil investigative demand was validly ratified.

* * *

A decade ago, we declined to extend Congress's authority to limit the President's removal power to a new situation, never before confronted by the Court. We do the same today. In our constitutional system, the executive power belongs to the President, and that power generally includes the ability to supervise and remove the agents who wield executive power in his stead. While we have previously upheld limits on the President's removal authority in certain contexts, we decline to do so when it comes to principal officers who, acting alone, wield significant executive power. The Constitution requires that such officials remain dependent on the President, who in turn is accountable to the people.

The judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit is vacated, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.

It is so ordered.

Justice THOMAS, with whom Justice GORSUCH joins, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

The Court's decision today takes a restrained approach on the merits by limiting Humphrey's Executor v. United States , 295 U.S. 602, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935), rather than overruling it. At the same time, the Court takes an aggressive approach on severability by severing a provision when it is not necessary to do so. I would do the opposite.

Because the Court takes a step in the right direction by limiting Humphrey's Executor to "multimember expert agencies that do not wield substantial executive power ," ante , at 2219 (emphasis added), I join Parts I, II, and III of its opinion. I respectfully dissent from the Court's severability analysis, however, because I do not believe that we should address severability in this case.

I

The decision in Humphrey's Executor poses a direct threat to our constitutional structure and, as a result, the liberty of the American people. The Court concludes that it is not strictly necessary for us to *2212overrule that decision. See ante , at 2119 - 2192, 2197 - 2200. But with today's decision, the Court has repudiated almost every aspect of Humphrey's Executor . In a future case, I would repudiate what is left of this erroneous precedent.

A

"The Constitution does not vest the Federal Government with an undifferentiated 'governmental power.' " Department of Transportation v. Association of American Railroads , 575 U.S. 43, 67, 135 S.Ct. 1225, 191 L.Ed.2d 153 (2015) (THOMAS, J., concurring in judgment). It sets out three branches and vests a different form of power in each-legislative, executive, and judicial. See Art. I, § 1; Art. II, § 1, cl. 1 ; Art. III, § 1.

Article II of the Constitution vests "[t]he executive Power" in the "President of the United States of America," § 1, cl. 1, and directs that he shall "take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed," § 3. Of course, the President cannot fulfill his role of executing the laws without assistance. See Myers v. United States , 272 U.S. 52, 117, 47 S.Ct. 21, 71 L.Ed. 160 (1926). He therefore must "select those who [are] to act for him under his direction in the execution of the laws." Ibid. While these officers assist the President in carrying out his constitutionally assigned duties, "[t]he buck stops with the President." Free Enterprise Fund v. Public Company Accounting Oversight Bd. , 561 U.S. 477, 493, 130 S.Ct. 3138, 177 L.Ed.2d 706 (2010). "Since 1789, the Constitution has been understood to empower the President to keep [his] officers accountable-by removing them from office, if necessary." Id. , at 483, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The Framers "insist[ed]" upon "unity in the Federal Executive" to "ensure both vigor and accountability" to the people. Printz v. United States , 521 U.S. 898, 922, 117 S.Ct. 2365, 138 L.Ed.2d 914 (1997) ; see also ante , at 2203.

Despite the defined structural limitations of the Constitution and the clear vesting of executive power in the President, Congress has increasingly shifted executive power to a de facto fourth branch of Government-independent agencies. These agencies wield considerable executive power without Presidential oversight. They are led by officers who are insulated from the President by removal restrictions, "reduc[ing] the Chief Magistrate to [the role of] cajoler-in-chief." Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 502, 130 S.Ct. 3138. But "[t]he people do not vote for the Officers of the United States. They instead look to the President to guide the assistants or deputies subject to his superintendence." Id. , at 497-498, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (alterations, internal quotation marks and citation omitted). Because independent agencies wield substantial power with no accountability to either the President or the people, they "pose a significant threat to individual liberty and to the constitutional system of separation of powers and checks and balances." PHH Corp. v. CFPB , 881 F.3d 75, 165 (C.A.D.C. 2018) (Kavanaugh, J., dissenting).

Unfortunately, this Court "ha[s] not always been vigilant about protecting the structure of our Constitution," at times endorsing a "more pragmatic, flexible approach" to our Government's design. Perez v. Mortgage Bankers Assn. , 575 U.S. 92, 115-116, 135 S.Ct. 1199, 191 L.Ed.2d 186 (2015) (THOMAS, J., concurring in judgment) (internal quotation marks omitted). Our tolerance of independent agencies in Humphrey's Executor is an unfortunate example of the Court's failure to apply the Constitution as written. That decision has paved the way for an ever-expanding encroachment on the power of the Executive, contrary to our constitutional design.

*2213B

1

The lead up to Humphrey's Executor begins with this Court's decision in Myers , 272 U.S., 52, 47 S.Ct. 21, 71 L.Ed. 160. Myers involved a federal statute that prohibited the President from removing certain postmasters except "by and with the advice and consent of the Senate." Id. , at 107, 47 S.Ct. 21 (internal quotation marks omitted). The question presented was "whether under the Constitution the President has the exclusive power of removing executive officers of the United States whom he has appointed by and with the advice and consent of the Senate." Id. , at 106, 47 S.Ct. 21. In a 70-page opinion by Chief Justice Taft, the Court held that the Constitution did vest such power in the President.

The Court anchored its analysis in evidence from the founding era. It acknowledged that the "subject [of removal] was not discussed in the Constitutional Convention," id. , at 109-110, 47 S.Ct. 21, but it reviewed in detail the First Congress' vigorous debate about the removal of executive officers in what is known as the Decision of 1789, id. , at 111-135, 47 S.Ct. 21.1 In the course of analyzing the Decision of 1789, the Court explained that Article II vests "the executive power of the Government ... in one person"-the President-and that the executive power includes the authority to "select those who [are] to act for him under his direction in the execution of the laws." Id. , at 116-117, 47 S.Ct. 21. Reiterating the position of James Madison and other Members of the First Congress, the Court noted that allowing limits on the President's removal authority would grant Congress "the means of thwarting the Executive in the exercise of his great powers and in the bearing of his great responsibility, by fastening upon him, as subordinate executive officers, men who by their inefficient service under him, by their lack of loyalty to the service, or by their different views of policy might make his taking care that the laws be faithfully executed most difficult or impossible." Id. , at 131, 47 S.Ct. 21. After "devot[ing] much space to [the] discussion and decision of the question of the Presidential power of removal in the First Congress" as well as its understanding of the executive power, id. , at 136, 47 S.Ct. 21, the Court concluded that "the power to remove officers appointed by the President and the Senate vested in the President alone," id. , at 114, 47 S.Ct. 21. It repeatedly described this removal power as "unrestricted." Id. , at 115, 134, 150, 172, 176, 47 S.Ct. 21.

The Court noted that the First Congress' understanding of the removal question was quickly "accepted as a final decision of the question by all branches of the Government." Id. , at 136, 47 S.Ct. 21. The decision was "affirmed by this Court in unmistakable terms." Id. , at 148, 152-153, 47 S.Ct. 21 (discussing Ex parte Hennen , 13 Pet. 230, 259, 10 L.Ed. 138 (1839) ; Parsons v. United States , 167 U.S. 324, 330, 17 S.Ct. 880, 42 L.Ed. 185 (1897) ). Presidents had "uniform[ly]" adopted the First Congress' view "whenever an issue ha[d] clearly been raised." Myers , 272 U.S., at 169, 47 S.Ct. 21. And "Congress, in a number of acts, followed and enforced the legislative decision of 1789 for seventy-four years." Id. , at 145, 47 S.Ct. 21. While disputes with President Andrew Johnson over Reconstruction led Congress to "enact legislation to curtail the then acknowledged powers of the President,"

*2214id. , at 165, 47 S.Ct. 21, the Myers Court declined to give these politically charged acts any weight, id., at 175-176, 47 S.Ct. 21.

After exhaustively analyzing the historical evidence, the Court had "no hesitation in holding that [the First Congress'] conclusion [was] correct." Id. , at 176, 47 S.Ct. 21. Accordingly, the Court held that "the provision of the law [at issue], by which the unrestricted power of removal of first class postmasters is denied to the President, [was] in violation of the Constitution, and invalid." Ibid.

2

Nine years after Myers , the Court decided Humphrey's Executor . That case arose from the attempted removal of Commissioner William Humphrey from the Federal Trade Commission (FTC). In 1931, President Herbert Hoover appointed Humphrey to serve a 7-year term as one of the FTC's five Commissioners. By all accounts, Humphrey proved to be a controversial figure. See Crane, Debunking Humphrey's Executor , 83 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1836, 1841 (2015); Winerman, The FTC at Ninety: History Through Headlines, 72 Antitrust L. J. 871, 878-879 (2005) ; Yoo, Calabresi, & Nee, The Unitary Executive During the Third Half-Century, 1889-1945, 80 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1, 64 (2004). He reportedly "vowed not to approve any Commission action that did not have as its goal to help business help itself," "threaten[ed] criminal prosecution against other commissioners who publicly dissented," and "called his fellow commissioners men drunk with their own greatness" when they voted to initiate an investigation. Crane, supra , at 1841 (internal quotation marks omitted).

Less than two years into Humphrey's term, newly inaugurated President Franklin D. Roosevelt wrote Humphrey a letter, asking for his resignation. The President explained that, in his view, "the aims and purposes of the Administration with respect to the work of the Commission [could] be carried out most effectively with personnel of [his] own selection." Humphrey's Executor , 295 U.S., at 618, 55 S.Ct. 869 (internal quotation marks omitted). A little over a month after his first letter, President Roosevelt wrote Humphrey again to ask for his resignation. The letter stated: "You will, I know, realize that I do not feel that your mind and my mind go along together on either the policies or the administering of the [FTC], and, frankly, I think it is best for the people of this country that I should have a full confidence." Id. , at 619, 55 S.Ct. 869 (internal quotation marks omitted). Humphrey declined to resign. In October 1933, President Roosevelt informed Humphrey that he was removed from his position. Humphrey did not comply, continuing "to insist that he was still a member of the commission, entitled to perform its duties and receive the compensation provided by law." Ibid.

Four months later, Humphrey died. The executor of his estate brought suit in the Court of Claims, seeking to recover Humphrey's salary from the date of his removal until the date of his death. The Court of Claims certified two questions to this Court: (1) whether § 1 of the Federal Trade Commission Act of 1914, ch. 311, 38 Stat. 717, prohibited the President from removing FTC Commissioners except for "inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office," and (2) if so, whether that restriction was constitutional. 295 U.S., at 619, 55 S.Ct. 869 (internal quotation marks omitted).

The Court answered both of these questions in favor of Humphrey's estate. It first held that the FTC Act "limit[ed] the executive power of removal to the causes enumerated" therein-inefficiency, neglect *2215of duty, or malfeasance in office. Id. , at 626, 55 S.Ct. 869. In the Court's view, this construction of the Act was clear from "the face of the statute" and "the character of the commission," id. , at 624, 55 S.Ct. 869, which the Court described as a "body of experts" that operates "independent of executive authority ... and free to exercise its judgment without the leave or hindrance of any other official," id. , at 625-626, 55 S.Ct. 869.

Then, notwithstanding the text of Article II of the Constitution and the decision in Myers , the Court held that the Act's restriction on the President's authority to remove Commissioners was constitutional. The Court acknowledged that the "recently decided" Myers decision had "fully review[ed] the general subject of the power of executive removal" and "examine[d] at length the historical, legislative and judicial data bearing upon the question." Humphrey's Executor , 295 U.S., at 626, 55 S.Ct. 869. And it conceded that executive officers are "subject to the exclusive and illimitable power of removal by the Chief Executive." Id. , at 627, 55 S.Ct. 869 ; see also id. , at 631, 55 S.Ct. 869 (recognizing "the President's illimitable power of removal" over executive officers).2 The Court, however, claimed that "[t]he office of a postmaster is so essentially unlike the office [of an FTC Commissioner] that the decision in the Myers case [could not] be accepted as controlling." Id. , at 627, 55 S.Ct. 869. In the Court's view, unlike the postmaster in Myers , FTC commissioners did not qualify as "purely executive officers." 295 U.S., at 632, 55 S.Ct. 869.

The Court grounded its analysis in its assertion that the FTC "occupies no place in the executive department and ... exercises no part of the executive power vested by the Constitution in the President." Id. , at 628, 55 S.Ct. 869. Rather, in the Court's view, by "filling in and administering the details embodied by [the FTC Act's] general standard[,] the commission act[ed] in part quasi-legislatively and in part quasi-judicially." Ibid. The Court stated that the FTC acted "as a legislative agency" by "making investigations and reports thereon for the information of Congress" and acted "as an agency of the judiciary" when performing its role "as a master in chancery under rules prescribed by the court." Ibid. "Such a body," the Court explained, "cannot in any proper sense be characterized as an arm or an eye of the executive." Ibid.

After distinguishing "purely executive officers" from officers exercising "quasi-legislative or quasi-judicial powers," ibid. , the Court held that "[w]hether the power of the President to remove an officer shall prevail over the authority of Congress to condition the power by ... precluding a removal except for cause, will depend upon the character of the office," id. , at 631, 55 S.Ct. 869. "[P]urely executive officers" are subject to the President's "unrestrictable power ... to remove." Id. , at 632, 55 S.Ct. 869. But with regard to "quasi-legislative" and "quasi-judicial" officers, the Court concluded that "no removal [could] be made *2216... except for one or more of the causes named." Ibid.

3

Humphrey's Executor laid the foundation for a fundamental departure from our constitutional structure with nothing more than handwaving and obfuscating phrases such as "quasi-legislative" and "quasi-judicial." Unlike the thorough analysis in Myers , the Court's thinly reasoned decision is completely "devoid of textual or historical precedent for the novel principle it set forth." Morrison v. Olson , 487 U.S. 654, 726, 108 S.Ct. 2597, 101 L.Ed.2d 569 (1988) (Scalia, J., dissenting). The exceptional weakness of the reasoning could be a product of the circumstances under which the case was decided-in the midst of a bitter standoff between the Court and President Roosevelt3 -or it could be just another example of this Court departing from the strictures of the Constitution for a "more pragmatic, flexible approach" to our government's design. Perez , 575 U.S., at 116, 135 S.Ct. 1199 (opinion of THOMAS, J.) (internal quotation marks omitted). But whatever the motivation, Humphrey's Executor does not comport with the Constitution.

Humphrey's Executor relies on one key premise: the notion that there is a category of "quasi-legislative" and "quasi-judicial" power that is not exercised by Congress or the Judiciary, but that is also not part of "the executive power vested by the Constitution in the President." Humphrey's Executor , supra , at 628, 55 S.Ct. 869. Working from that premise, the Court distinguished the "illimitable" power of removal recognized in Myers , Humphrey's Executor , 295 U.S., at 627-628, 55 S.Ct. 869, and upheld the FTC Act's removal restriction, while simultaneously acknowledging that the Constitution vests the President with the entirety of the executive power, id. , at 628, 55 S.Ct. 869.

The problem is that the Court's premise was entirely wrong. The Constitution does not permit the creation of officers exercising "quasi-legislative" and "quasi-judicial powers" in "quasi-legislative" and "quasi-judicial agencies." Id., at 628-629, 55 S.Ct. 869. No such powers or agencies exist. Congress lacks the authority to delegate its legislative power, Whitman v. American Trucking Assns. , Inc., 531 U.S. 457, 472, 121 S.Ct. 903, 149 L.Ed.2d 1 (2001), and it cannot authorize the use of judicial power by officers acting outside of the bounds of Article III, Stern v. Marshall , 564 U.S. 462, 484, 131 S.Ct. 2594, 180 L.Ed.2d 475 (2011). Nor can Congress create agencies that straddle multiple branches of Government. The Constitution sets out three branches of Government and provides each with a different form of power-legislative, executive, and judicial. See Art. I, § 1; Art. II, § 1, cl. 1 ; Art. III, § 1. Free-floating agencies simply do not comport with this constitutional structure.

*2217"[A]gencies have been called quasi-legislative, quasi-executive or quasi-judicial, as the occasion required, in order to validate their functions within the separation-of-powers scheme of the Constitution." FTC v. Ruberoid Co. , 343 U.S. 470, 487, 72 S.Ct. 800, 96 L.Ed. 1081 (1952) (Jackson, J., dissenting). But "[t]he mere retreat to the qualifying 'quasi' is implicit with confession that all recognized classifications have broken down, and 'quasi' is a smooth cover which we draw over our confusion as we might use a counterpane to conceal a disordered bed." Id. , at 487-488, 72 S.Ct. 800.

That is exactly what happened in Humphrey's Executor . The Court upheld the FTC Act's removal restriction by using the "quasi" label to support its claim that the FTC "exercise[d] no part of the executive power vested by the Constitution in the President." Humphrey's Executor , supra , at 628, 55 S.Ct. 869. But "it is hard to dispute that the powers of the FTC at the time of Humphrey's Executor would at the present time be considered 'executive,' at least to some degree." Morrison , supra , at 690, n. 28, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ; see ante , at 2198 n.2; see post , at 2201 n.7 (KAGAN, J., concurring in judgment with respect to severability and dissenting in part).

C

Today's decision constitutes the latest in a series of cases that have significantly undermined Humphrey's Executor . First, in Morrison , the Court repudiated the reasoning of the decision. 487 U.S. at 689, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Then, in Free Enterprise Fund , we returned to the principles set out in the "landmark case of Myers ." 561 U.S., at 492, 130 S.Ct. 3138. And today, the Court rightfully limits Humphrey's Executor to "multimember expert agencies that do not wield substantial executive power." Ante , at ----. After these decisions, the foundation for Humphrey's Executor is not just shaky. It is nonexistent.

This Court's repudiation of Humphrey's Executor began with its decision in Morrison . There, the Court upheld a statute insulating an independent counsel from removal by the Attorney General absent a showing of "good cause." Morrison , supra , at 659-660, 108 S.Ct. 2597. In doing so, the Court set aside the reasoning of Humphrey's Executor . It recognized that Humphrey's Executor "rel[ied] on the terms 'quasilegislative' and 'quasi-judicial' to distinguish the officials involved in Humphrey's Executor ... from those in Myers ." 487 U.S., at 689, 108 S.Ct. 2597. But it then immediately stated that its "present considered view is that the determination of whether the Constitution allows Congress to impose a 'good cause'-type restriction on the President's power to remove an official cannot be made to turn on whether or not that official is classified as 'purely executive.' " Ibid. The Court also rejected Humphrey's Executor 's conclusion that the FTC did not exercise executive power, stating that "the powers of the FTC at the time of Humphrey's Executor would at the present time be considered 'executive.' " Morrison , supra , at 690, n. 28, 108 S.Ct. 2597. The lone dissenter, Justice Scalia, disagreed with much of the Court's analysis but noted that the Court had rightfully "swept" Humphrey's Executor "into the dustbin of repudiated constitutional principles." 487 U.S., at 725, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Thus, all Members of the Court who heard Morrison rejected the core rationale of Humphrey's Executor .

The reasoning of the Court's decision in Free Enterprise Fund created further tension (if not outright conflict) with Humphrey's Executor . In Free Enterprise Fund , the Court concluded that a dual layer of for-cause removal restrictions for members of the Public Company Accounting *2218Oversight Board violated the Constitution. In its analysis, the Court recognized that allowing officers to "execute the laws" beyond the President's control "is contrary to Article II's vesting of the executive power in the President ." 561 U.S., at 496, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (emphasis added). The Court acknowledged that "the executive power include[s] a power to oversee executive officers through removal." Id. , at 492, 130 S.Ct. 3138. And it explained that, without the power of removal, the President cannot "be held fully accountable" for the exercise of the executive power, " 'greatly diminish[ing] the intended and necessary responsibility of the chief magistrate himself.' " Id. , at 514, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (quoting The Federalist No. 70, p. 478 (J. Cooke ed. 1961) (A. Hamilton)). Accountability, the Court repeatedly emphasized, plays a central role in our constitutional structure. See, e.g. , Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 498, 130 S.Ct. 3138 ("[E]xecutive power without the Executive's oversight ... subverts the President's ability to ensure that the laws are faithfully executed-as well as the public's ability to pass judgment on his efforts"); id. , at 513, 130 S.Ct. 3138 ("The Constitution that makes the President accountable to the people for executing the laws also gives him the power to do so"). Humphrey's Executor is at odds with every single one of these principles: It ignores Article II's Vesting Clause, sidesteps the President's removal power, and encourages the exercise of executive power by unaccountable officers. The reasoning of the two decisions simply cannot be reconciled.

Finally, today's decision builds upon Morrison and Free Enterprise Fund , further eroding the foundation of Humphrey's Executor . The Court correctly notes that "[t]he entire 'executive Power' belongs to the President alone." Ante , at 2197. The President therefore must have "power to remove-and thus supervise-those who wield executive power on his behalf." Ante , at 2191 - 2192. As a result, the Court concludes that Humphrey's Executor must be limited to "multimember expert agencies that do not wield substantial executive power ." Ante, at 2219 - 2220 (emphasis added). And, at the same time, it recognizes (as the Court did in Morrison ) that "[t]he Court's conclusion that the FTC did not exercise executive power has not withstood the test of time." Ante , at 2198 n.2. In other words, Humphrey's Executor does not even satisfy its own exception.

In light of these decisions, it is not clear what is left of Humphrey's Executor 's rationale.4 But if any remnant of that decision is still standing, it certainly is not enough to justify the numerous, unaccountable independent agencies that currently exercise vast executive power outside the bounds of our constitutional structure.

* * *

Continued reliance on Humphrey's Executor to justify the existence of independent *2219agencies creates a serious, ongoing threat to our Government's design. Leaving these unconstitutional agencies in place does not enhance this Court's legitimacy; it subverts political accountability and threatens individual liberty. We have a "responsibility to 'examin[e] without fear, and revis[e] without reluctance,' any 'hasty and crude decisions' rather than leaving 'the character of [the] law impaired, and the beauty and harmony of the [American constitutional] system destroyed by the perpetuity of error.' " Gamble v. United States , 587 U. S. ----, ----, 139 S.Ct. 1960, 1984, 204 L.Ed.2d 322 (2019) (THOMAS, J., concurring) (quoting 1 J. Kent, Commentaries on American Law 444 (1826); some alterations in original). We simply cannot compromise when it comes to our Government's structure. Today, the Court does enough to resolve this case, but in the future, we should reconsider Humphrey's Executor in toto . And I hope that we will have the will to do so.

II

While I think that the Court correctly resolves the merits of the constitutional question, I do not agree with its decision to sever the removal restriction in 12 U. S. C. § 5491(c)(3). See ante , at 2207 - 2211; post , at 2244 - 2245. To resolve this case, I would simply deny the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) petition to enforce the civil investigative demand.

A

Article III of the Constitution vests "[t]he judicial Power of the United States" in the "supreme Court" and the lower federal courts established by Congress. § 1. "[T]he judicial power is, fundamentally, the power to render judgments in individual cases" or controversies that are properly before the court. Murphy v. National Collegiate Athletic Assn. , 584 U. S. ----, --- - ----, 138 S.Ct. 1461, 1485-1486, 200 L.Ed.2d 854 (2018) (THOMAS, J., concurring); see also Plaut v. Spendthrift Farm, Inc. , 514 U.S. 211, 219, 115 S.Ct. 1447, 131 L.Ed.2d 328 (1995) (" '[A] "judicial Power" is one to render dispositive judgments' "); Baude, The Judgment Power, 96 Geo. L. J. 1807, 1815-1816 (2008). "[T]he power exercised is that of ascertaining and declaring the law applicable to the controversy." Massachusetts v. Mellon , 262 U.S. 447, 488, 43 S.Ct. 597, 67 L.Ed. 1078 (1923). In the context of a constitutional challenge, "[i]t amounts to little more than the negative power to disregard an unconstitutional enactment." Ibid. ; see also Mitchell, The Writ-of-Erasure Fallacy, 104 Va. L. Rev. 933, 936 (2018). Thus, if a party argues that a statute and the Constitution conflict, "then courts must resolve that dispute and, ... follow the higher law of the Constitution." Murphy , 584 U. S., at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1486 (THOMAS, J., concurring).

Consistent with this understanding, "[e]arly American courts did not have a severability doctrine." Id. , at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1485 (citing Walsh, Partial Unconstitutionality, 85 N. Y. U. L. Rev. 738, 769 (2010) ). If a statute was unconstitutional, the court would just decline to enforce the statute in the case before it. 584 U. S., at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1486 (THOMAS, J., concurring). That was the end of the matter. "[T]here was no 'next step' in which [a] cour[t]" severed portions of a statute. Walsh, supra , at 777.

Our modern severability precedents create tension with this historic practice. Instead of declining to enforce an unconstitutional statute in an individual case, this Court has stated that courts must "seve[r] and excis[e]" portions of a statute to "remedy" the constitutional problem. United States v. Booker , 543 U.S. 220, 245, 125 S.Ct. 738, 160 L.Ed.2d 621 (2005) ;

*2220Alaska Airlines, Inc. v. Brock , 480 U.S. 678, 686, 107 S.Ct. 1476, 94 L.Ed.2d 661 (1987). The Court's rhetoric when discussing severance implies that a court's decision to sever a provision "formally suspend[s] or erase[s it], when [the provision] actually remains on the books as a law." Mitchell, supra , at 1017. The Federal Judiciary does not have the power to excise, erase, alter, or otherwise strike down a statute. Murphy , supra , at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1486 (THOMAS, J., concurring) Mitchell, supra , at 936. And the Court's reference to severability as a "remedy" is inaccurate. Traditional remedies-like injunctions, declarations, or damages-" 'operate with respect to specific parties,' not 'on legal rules in the abstract.' " Murphy , supra , at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1486 (THOMAS, J., concurring) (quoting Harrison, Severability, Remedies, and Constitutional Adjudication, 83 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 56, 85 (2014) ).

Because the power of judicial review does not allow courts to revise statutes, Mitchell, supra , at 983, the Court's severability doctrine must be rooted in statutory interpretation. But, even viewing severability as an interpretive question, I remain skeptical of our doctrine. As I have previously explained, "the severability doctrine often requires courts to weigh in on statutory provisions that no party has standing to challenge, bringing courts dangerously close to issuing advisory opinions." Murphy , 584 U. S., at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1487 (concurring opinion). And the application of the doctrine "does not follow basic principles of statutory interpretation." Id. , at ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1486. Instead of determining the meaning of a statute's text, severability involves "nebulous inquir[ies] into hypothetical congressional intent." Booker , supra, at 320, n. 7, 125 S.Ct. 738 (THOMAS, J., dissenting in part).

B

Consistent with the traditional understanding of the judicial power, I would deny CFPB's petition to enforce the civil investigative demand that it issued to Seila. See § 5562(e)(1). Seila "challenge[d] the validity of both the civil investigative demand and the ensuing enforcement action." Reply Brief for Petitioner 5. Seila has not countersued or sought affirmative relief preventing the CFPB from acting in the future; it simply asks us to "reverse the court of appeals' judgment." Brief for Petitioner 35. I would do just that. As the Court recognizes, the enforcement of a civil investigative demand by an official with unconstitutional removal protection injures Seila. See ante , at 2195 - 2196. Presented with an enforcement request from an unconstitutionally insulated Director, I would simply deny the CFPB's petition for an order of enforcement. This approach would resolve the dispute before us without addressing the issue of severability.

The Court, however, does more. In the plurality's view,5 because the CFPB raised a ratification argument before the Court of Appeals, we can (and should) reach the question of severability. See ante , at 2207 - 2208. But as explained more fully below, resolving this question is wholly unnecessary. Regardless of whether the CFPB's ratification theory is valid, the Court of Appeals on remand must reach the same outcome: The CFPB's civil investigative demand cannot be enforced against Seila.

The ratification argument presented by the CFPB is quite simple. Since its creation in 2010, the CFPB has had three Directors-first Director Richard Cordray, then Acting Director Mick Mulvaney, and *2221now Director Kathleen Kraninger. The CFPB's first Director, Director Cordray, issued a civil investigative demand to Seila and initiated the enforcement action. The CFPB has conceded that these actions were unconstitutional. But, in the Ninth Circuit, the CFPB argued that the investigative demand was ratified by Acting Director Mulvaney, who it claimed was not insulated by the removal provision. Brief for Appellee in No. 17-56324, pp. 13-19. In the CFPB's view, the President could remove Acting Director Mulvaney at will because the "removal provision by its terms applies only to 'the Director,' not to an Acting Director," and the Federal Vacancy Reform Act "does not limit the President's ability to designate a different person as Acting Director." Id. , at 14. Based on this ratification theory, the CFPB asked the Ninth Circuit to affirm the District Court's order granting the CFPB's petition to enforce its investigative demand.

The CFPB does not ask this Court to address ratification on the merits, but it does rely on its unresolved ratification theory to assert that the Court should reach severability. In doing so, the CFPB relies on the same theory that it presented to the Ninth Circuit. Thus, the only live ratification claim is the theory that Acting Director Mulvaney ratified the civil investigative demand. See ante , at 2207 - 2208.6

The resolution of the CFPB's Acting-Director ratification theory, however, has no bearing on the outcome of the dispute before us and therefore provides no basis for addressing severability. If the Acting Director did not ratify the investigative demand, then there is obviously no need to address severability. And even if he did, the Court still does not need to address severability because the alleged ratification does not cure the constitutional injury-enforcement of an investigative demand by an unconstitutionally insulated Director. Seila "challenge[d] the validity of both the civil investigative demand and the ensuing enforcement action ." Reply Brief for Petitioner 5 (emphasis added). Acting Director Mulvaney may (or may not) have properly ratified the issuance of the investigative demand and the initiation of the enforcement proceedings. But he certainly could not ratify the continuance of the enforcement action by his successor, Director Kraninger. Id. , at 7. Thus, even if the CFPB's ratification theory is valid, Seila still has an injury: It has been (and continues to be) subjected to enforcement of an investigative demand by Director Kraninger, who "remains statutorily insulated from removal." Reply Brief for Respondent 7; see also Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 513, 130 S.Ct. 3138 ; ante , at 2196. Thus, we should decline to enforce the civil investigative demand against Seila. See supra, at 2198 - 2199.

Ultimately, I cannot see how the resolution of the severability question affects the dispute before us. And even if severability could affect this case in some hypothetical scenario, I would not reach out to resolve the issue given my growing discomfort with our current severability precedents.

C

Confident that it can address the question of severability, the plurality moves on to conduct its analysis. It starts by pointing *2222to the severability clause in the Dodd-Frank Act. See ante , at 2209. That clause states: "If any provision of this Act, an amendment made by this Act, or the application of such provision or amendment to any person or circumstance is held to be unconstitutional, the remainder of this Act, the amendments made by this Act, and the application of the provisions of such to any person or circumstance shall not be affected thereby." § 5302. The plurality states that "[i]f the Director were removable at will by the President, the constitutional violation would disappear." Ante , at 2208 - 2209. Then, relying on language in the severability clause, it concludes that the removal provision, § 5491(c)(3), should be severed.

The plurality suggests that its analysis is a matter of simply enforcing the "plain language" of the severability clause. See ante , at 2209. But I am not sure it is that simple. For one, the plurality does not actually analyze the statutory language.7 Second, the analysis the plurality does provide looks nothing like traditional statutory interpretation. Generally, when we interpret a statute, we do not hold that the text sets out a "presum[ption]" that can be rebutted by looking to atextual evidence of legislative intent. Ante , at 2208 - 2209. A text-based interpretation does not allow a free-ranging inquiry into what " 'Congress, faced with the limitations imposed by the Constitution, would have preferred' " had it known of a constitutional issue. Ante , at 2209 (quoting Free Enterprise Fund , supra , at 509, 130 S.Ct. 3138 ). Nor does it consider whether Congress would have wanted to avoid "a major regulatory disruption." Ante , at 2210 - 2211. Statutory interpretation focuses on the text.

Even treating the question as a matter of pure statutory interpretation and assuming that the plurality points to the correct language, the text of the severability clause cannot, in isolation, justify severance of the removal provision. In some instances, a constitutional injury arises as a result of two or more statutory provisions operating together. See, e.g. , Free Enterprise Fund , supra , at 509, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (stating that the convergence of "a number of statutory provisions" produce a constitutional violation); Booker , 543 U.S., at 316-317, 125 S.Ct. 738 (opinion of THOMAS, J.) (explaining that "the concerted action of [ 18 U. S. C.] § 3553(b)(1) and the operative Guidelines and the relevant Rule of Criminal Procedure resulted in unconstitutional judicial factfinding"); Lea, Situation Severability, 103 Va. L. Rev. 735, 778-780 (2017) (discussing statutory convergences). That is precisely the situation we have in this case.

*2223As in Free Enterprise Fund , the provision requiring "good-cause removal is only one of [the] statutory provisions that, working together, produce a constitutional violation." 561 U.S., at 509, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The constitutional violation results from, at a minimum, the combination of the removal provision, 12 U. S. C. § 5491(c)(3), and the provision allowing the CFPB to seek enforcement of a civil investigative demand, § 5562(e)(1). When confronted with two provisions that operate together to violate the Constitution, the text of the severability clause provides no guidance as to which provision should be severed. Thus, we must choose, based on something other than the severability clause, which provision to sever.

Without text to guide us, the severability inquiry moves away from statutory interpretation and falls back on this Court's questionable precedents. See Murphy , 584 U. S., at --- - ----, 138 S.Ct., at 1486-1488 (THOMAS, J., concurring). An analysis of the Court's decisions in Booker and Free Enterprise Fund illustrates the Court's approach to determining which provision to sever when confronting an injury caused by an unconstitutional convergence of multiple statutory provisions.

In Booker , a Rule of Criminal Procedure, a subset of provisions in the Sentencing Guidelines, and a statutory provision operated together to require unconstitutional judicial factfinding. To determine which aspect of the sentencing scheme to sever, the Court sought to divine "what Congress would have intended in light of the Court's constitutional holding." Booker , 543 U.S., at 246, 125 S.Ct. 738 (internal quotation marks omitted). The Court "recognize[d] that sometimes severability questions ... can arise [in the context of] a legislatively unforeseen constitutional problem." Id. , at 247, 125 S.Ct. 738. But it nonetheless felt qualified to craft a remedy that would "move sentencing in Congress' preferred direction." Id. , at 264, 125 S.Ct. 738. Surprisingly, that "move" did not involve enforcing the constitutional aspects of Congress' sentencing scheme. The Court stated that "we cannot assume that Congress, if faced with the statute's invalidity in key applications, would have preferred to apply the statute in as many other instances as possible." Id. , at 248, 125 S.Ct. 738.8 Despite the fact that there were a plethora of cases in which mandatory Sentencing Guidelines would have posed no constitutional problem, the Court decided to "sever and excise ... the provision that requires sentencing courts to impose a sentence within the applicable Guidelines range," along with another provision which was not even at issue in the case. Id. , at 259, 125 S.Ct. 738. In essence, the Court crafted a new sentencing scheme, transforming the Sentencing Guidelines into an entirely discretionary system based on its estimation that Congress would have wanted that result.

The Court in Free Enterprise Fund declined to explicitly engage in Booker 's free-wheeling inquiry into Congress' hypothetical preferences, but it did not replace that inquiry with a clear standard. In that case, the Court held that a "number of statutory provisions ..., working together, produce[d] a constitutional violation" similar to the violation at issue here. Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 509, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The Court decided to sever the Board's removal restriction. It explicitly *2224recognized that there were multiple ways to address the constitutional injury, stating that the Court could, for example, "blue-pencil a sufficient number of the Board's responsibilities," or "restrict the Board's enforcement powers." Ibid. But it described these alternative options as involving "editorial freedom-far more extensive than [the] holding today-[that] belongs to the Legislature, not the Judiciary." Id. , at 510, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The Court did not explain, however, why the option that it chose was not also "editorial freedom" that belongs to the Legislature or why the alternatives involved "more extensive" "editorial freedom" than its preferred option. Ibid. The most that the Court provided was a suggestion that fewer provisions would have to be severed under its approach. Id. , at 509-510, 130 S.Ct. 3138.

Today's plurality opinion provides no further guidance. In fact, the plurality does not even recognize that it has made a choice between the provisions that cause the constitutional injury. It merely states that "[i]f the Director were removable at will by the President, the constitutional violation would disappear." Ante , at 2209. Fair enough. But if the Director lacked executive authority under the statute to seek enforcement of a civil investigative demand, § 5562(e)(1), the constitutional violation in this case would also disappear. The plurality thus chooses which of the provisions to sever.

In short, when multiple provisions of law combine to cause a constitutional injury, the Court's current approach allows the Court to decide which provision to sever. The text of a severability clause does not guide that choice. Nor does the practice of early American courts. See supra , at 2218 - 2219. The Court is thus left to choose based on nothing more than speculation as to what the Legislature would have preferred. And the result of its choice can have a dramatic effect on the governing statutory scheme. See Booker , supra , at 259, 125 S.Ct. 738 (converting the entirety of the Sentencing Guidelines from a mandatory to a discretionary system). This is not a simple matter of following the "plain language" of a statute. Ante , at 2209. It is incumbent on us to take a close look at our precedents to make sure that we are not exceeding the scope of the judicial power.

* * *

Given my concerns about our modern severability doctrine and the fact that severability makes no difference to the dispute before us, I would resolve this case by simply denying the CFPB's petition to enforce the civil investigative demand.

Justice KAGAN, with whom Justice GINSBURG, Justice BREYER, and Justice SOTOMAYOR join, concurring in the judgment with respect to severability and dissenting in part.

Throughout the Nation's history, this Court has left most decisions about how to structure the Executive Branch to Congress and the President, acting through legislation they both agree to. In particular, the Court has commonly allowed those two branches to create zones of administrative independence by limiting the President's power to remove agency heads. The Federal Reserve Board. The Federal Trade Commission (FTC). The National Labor Relations Board. Statute after statute establishing such entities instructs the President that he may not discharge their directors except for cause-most often phrased as inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office. Those statutes, whose language the Court has repeatedly approved, provide the model for the removal restriction before us today. If precedent were any guide, that provision would *2225have survived its encounter with this Court-and so would the intended independence of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB).

Our Constitution and history demand that result. The text of the Constitution allows these common for-cause removal limits. Nothing in it speaks of removal. And it grants Congress authority to organize all the institutions of American governance, provided only that those arrangements allow the President to perform his own constitutionally assigned duties. Still more, the Framers' choice to give the political branches wide discretion over administrative offices has played out through American history in ways that have settled the constitutional meaning. From the first, Congress debated and enacted measures to create spheres of administration-especially of financial affairs-detached from direct presidential control. As the years passed, and governance became ever more complicated, Congress continued to adopt and adapt such measures-confident it had latitude to do so under a Constitution meant to "endure for ages to come." McCulloch v. Maryland , 4 Wheat. 316, 415, 4 L.Ed. 579 (1819) (approving the Second Bank of the United States). Not every innovation in governance-not every experiment in administrative independence-has proved successful. And debates about the prudence of limiting the President's control over regulatory agencies, including through his removal power, have never abated.1 But the Constitution-both as originally drafted and as practiced-mostly leaves disagreements about administrative structure to Congress and the President, who have the knowledge and experience needed to address them. Within broad bounds, it keeps the courts-who do not-out of the picture.

The Court today fails to respect its proper role. It recognizes that this Court has approved limits on the President's removal power over heads of agencies much like the CFPB. Agencies possessing similar powers, agencies charged with similar missions, agencies created for similar reasons. The majority's explanation is that the heads of those agencies fall within an "exception"-one for multimember bodies and another for inferior officers-to a "general rule" of unrestricted presidential removal power. Ante, at 2197 - 2198. And the majority says the CFPB Director does not. That account, though, is wrong in every respect. The majority's general rule does not exist. Its exceptions, likewise, are made up for the occasion-gerrymandered so the CFPB falls outside them. And the distinction doing most of the majority's work-between multimember bodies and single directors-does not respond to the constitutional values at stake. If a removal provision violates the separation of powers, it is because the measure so deprives the President of control over an official as to impede his own constitutional functions. But with or without a for-cause removal provision, the President has at least as much control over an individual as over a commission-and possibly more. That means the constitutional concern is, if anything, ameliorated when the agency has a single head. Unwittingly, the majority shows why courts should stay their hand in these matters. "Compared to Congress and the President, the Judiciary possesses an inferior understanding of the realities of administration" and the way "political *2226power[ ] operates." Free Enterprise Fund v. Public Company Accounting Oversight Bd. , 561 U.S. 477, 523, 130 S.Ct. 3138, 177 L.Ed.2d 706 (2010) (BREYER, J., dissenting).

In second-guessing the political branches, the majority second-guesses as well the wisdom of the Framers and the judgment of history. It writes in rules to the Constitution that the drafters knew well enough not to put there. It repudiates the lessons of American experience, from the 18th century to the present day. And it commits the Nation to a static version of governance, incapable of responding to new conditions and challenges. Congress and the President established the CFPB to address financial practices that had brought on a devastating recession, and could do so again. Today's decision wipes out a feature of that agency its creators thought fundamental to its mission-a measure of independence from political pressure. I respectfully dissent.

I

The text of the Constitution, the history of the country, the precedents of this Court, and the need for sound and adaptable governance-all stand against the majority's opinion. They point not to the majority's "general rule" of "unrestricted removal power" with two grudgingly applied "exceptions." Ante, at 2197 - 2198, 2199 - 2200. Rather, they bestow discretion on the legislature to structure administrative institutions as the times demand, so long as the President retains the ability to carry out his constitutional duties. And most relevant here, they give Congress wide leeway to limit the President's removal power in the interest of enhancing independence from politics in regulatory bodies like the CFPB.

A

What does the Constitution say about the separation of powers-and particularly about the President's removal authority? (Spoiler alert: about the latter, nothing at all.)

The majority offers the civics class version of separation of powers-call it the Schoolhouse Rock definition of the phrase. See Schoolhouse Rock! Three Ring Government (Mar. 13, 1979), http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKSGyiT-o3o ("Ring one, Executive. Two is Legislative, that's Congress. Ring three, Judiciary"). The Constitution's first three articles, the majority recounts, "split the atom of sovereignty" among Congress, the President, and the courts. Ante, at 2202 - 2203 (internal quotation marks omitted). And by that mechanism, the Framers provided a "simple" fix "to governmental power and its perils." Ibid.

There is nothing wrong with that as a beginning (except the adjective "simple"). It is of course true that the Framers lodged three different kinds of power in three different entities. And that they did so for a crucial purpose-because, as James Madison wrote, "there can be no liberty where the legislative and executive powers are united in the same person[ ] or body" or where "the power of judging [is] not separated from the legislative and executive powers." The Federalist No. 47, p. 325 (J. Cooke ed. 1961) (quoting Baron de Montesquieu).

The problem lies in treating the beginning as an ending too-in failing to recognize that the separation of powers is, by design, neither rigid nor complete. Blackstone, whose work influenced the Framers on this subject as on others, observed that "every branch" of government "supports and is supported, regulates and is regulated, by the rest." 1 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England 151 *2227(1765). So as James Madison stated, the creation of distinct branches "did not mean that these departments ought to have no partial agency in, or no controul over the acts of each other." The Federalist No. 47, at 325 (emphasis deleted).2 To the contrary, Madison explained, the drafters of the Constitution-like those of then-existing state constitutions-opted against keeping the branches of government "absolutely separate and distinct." Id., at 327. Or as Justice Story reiterated a half-century later: "[W]hen we speak of a separation of the three great departments of government," it is "not meant to affirm, that they must be kept wholly and entirely separate." 2 J. Story, Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States § 524, p. 8 (1833). Instead, the branches have-as they must for the whole arrangement to work-"common link[s] of connexion [and] dependence." Ibid.

One way the Constitution reflects that vision is by giving Congress broad authority to establish and organize the Executive Branch. Article II presumes the existence of "Officer[s]" in "executive Departments." § 2, cl. 1. But it does not, as you might think from reading the majority opinion, give the President authority to decide what kinds of officers-in what departments, with what responsibilities-the Executive Branch requires. See ante, at 2197 ("The entire 'executive Power' belongs to the President alone"). Instead, Article I's Necessary and Proper Clause puts those decisions in the legislature's hands. Congress has the power "[t]o make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into Execution" not just its own enumerated powers but also "all other Powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any Department or Officer thereof." § 8, cl. 18. Similarly, the Appointments Clause reflects Congress's central role in structuring the Executive Branch. Yes, the President can appoint principal officers, but only as the legislature "shall ... establish[ ] by Law" (and of course subject to the Senate's advice and consent). Art. II, § 2, cl. 2. And Congress has plenary power to decide not only what inferior officers will exist but also who (the President or a head of department) will appoint them. So as Madison told the first Congress, the legislature gets to "create[ ] the office, define[ ] the powers, [and] limit[ ] its duration." 1 Annals of Cong. 582 (1789). The President, as to the construction of his own branch of government, can only try to work his will through the legislative process.3

The majority relies for its contrary vision on Article II's Vesting Clause, see ante, at 2197, 2204 - 2205, but the provision can't carry all that weight. Or as Chief Justice Rehnquist wrote of a similar claim in *2228Morrison v. Olson , 487 U.S. 654, 108 S.Ct. 2597, 101 L.Ed.2d 569 (1988), "extrapolat[ing]" an unrestricted removal power from such "general constitutional language"-which says only that "[t]he executive Power shall be vested in a President"-is "more than the text will bear." Id., at 690, n. 29, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Dean John Manning has well explained why, even were it not obvious from the Clause's "open-ended language." Separation of Powers as Ordinary Interpretation, 124 Harv. L. Rev. 1939, 1971 (2011). The Necessary and Proper Clause, he writes, makes it impossible to "establish a constitutional violation simply by showing that Congress has constrained the way '[t]he executive Power' is implemented"; that is exactly what the Clause gives Congress the power to do. Id., at 1967. Only "a specific historical understanding" can bar Congress from enacting a given constraint. Id., at 2024. And nothing of that sort broadly prevents Congress from limiting the President's removal power. I'll turn soon to the Decision of 1789 and other evidence of Post-Convention thought. See infra , at 2228 - 2231. For now, note two points about practice before the Constitution's drafting. First, in that era, Parliament often restricted the King's power to remove royal officers-and the President, needless to say, wasn't supposed to be a king. See Birk, Interrogating the Historical Basis for a Unitary Executive, 73 Stan. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2021). Second, many States at the time allowed limits on gubernatorial removal power even though their constitutions had similar vesting clauses. See Shane, The Originalist Myth of the Unitary Executive, 19 U. Pa. J. Const. L. 323, 334-344 (2016). Historical understandings thus belie the majority's "general rule."

Nor can the Take Care Clause come to the majority's rescue. That Clause cannot properly serve as a "placeholder for broad judicial judgments" about presidential control. Goldsmith & Manning, The Protean Take Care Clause, 164 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1835, 1867 (2016) ; but see ante, at 2197, 2206 n.11 (using it that way). To begin with, the provision-"he shall take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed"-speaks of duty, not power. Art. II, § 3. New scholarship suggests the language came from English and colonial oaths taken by, and placing fiduciary obligations on, all manner and rank of executive officers. See Kent, Leib, & Shugerman, Faithful Execution and Article II, 132 Harv. L. Rev. 2111, 2121-2178 (2019). To be sure, the imposition of a duty may imply a grant of power sufficient to carry it out. But again, the majority's view of that power ill comports with founding-era practice, in which removal limits were common. See, e.g., Corwin, Tenure of Office and the Removal Power Under the Constitution, 27 Colum. L. Rev. 353, 385 (1927) (noting that New York's Constitution of 1777 had nearly the same clause, though the State's executive had "very little voice" in removals). And yet more important, the text of the Take Care Clause requires only enough authority to make sure "the laws [are] faithfully executed"-meaning with fidelity to the law itself, not to every presidential policy preference. As this Court has held, a President can ensure " 'faithful execution' of the laws"-thereby satisfying his "take care" obligation-with a removal provision like the one here. Morrison , 487 U.S., at 692, 108 S.Ct. 2597. A for-cause standard gives him "ample authority to assure that [an official] is competently performing [his] statutory responsibilities in a manner that comports with the [relevant legislation's] provisions." Ibid.

Finally, recall the Constitution's telltale silence: Nowhere does the text say anything about the President's power to remove subordinate officials at will. The majority professes unconcern. After all, it *2229says, "neither is there a 'separation of powers clause' or a 'federalism clause.' " Ante, at 2204 - 2205. But those concepts are carved into the Constitution's text-the former in its first three articles separating powers, the latter in its enumeration of federal powers and its reservation of all else to the States. And anyway, at-will removal is hardly such a "foundational doctrine[ ]," ibid. : You won't find it on a civics class syllabus. That's because removal is a tool -one means among many, even if sometimes an important one, for a President to control executive officials. See generally Free Enterprise Fund, 561 U.S., at 524, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting). To find that authority hidden in the Constitution as a "general rule" is to discover what is nowhere there.

B

History no better serves the majority's cause. As Madison wrote, "a regular course of practice" can "liquidate & settle the meaning of " disputed or indeterminate constitutional provisions. Letter to Spencer Roane (Sept. 2, 1819), in 8 Writings of James Madison 450 (G. Hunt ed. 1908); see NLRB v. Noel Canning , 573 U.S. 513, 525, 134 S.Ct. 2550, 189 L.Ed.2d 538 (2014). The majority lays claim to that kind of record, asserting that its muscular view of "[t]he President's removal power has long been confirmed by history." Ante , at 2197. But that is not so. The early history-including the fabled Decision of 1789-shows mostly debate and division about removal authority. And when a "settle[ment of] meaning" at last occurred, it was not on the majority's terms. Instead, it supports wide latitude for Congress to create spheres of administrative independence.

1

Begin with evidence from the Constitution's ratification. And note that this moment is indeed the beginning: Delegates to the Constitutional Convention never discussed whether or to what extent the President would have power to remove executive officials. As a result, the Framers advocating ratification had no single view of the matter. In Federalist No. 77, Hamilton presumed that under the new Constitution "[t]he consent of [the Senate] would be necessary to displace as well as to appoint" officers of the United States. Id., at 515. He thought that scheme would promote "steady administration": "Where a man in any station had given satisfactory evidence of his fitness for it, a new president would be restrained" from substituting "a person more agreeable to him." Ibid. By contrast, Madison thought the Constitution allowed Congress to decide how any executive official could be removed. He explained in Federalist No. 39: "The tenure of the ministerial offices generally will be a subject of legal regulation, conformably to the reason of the case, and the example of the State Constitutions." Id., at 253. Neither view, of course, at all supports the majority's story.4

The second chapter is the Decision of 1789, when Congress addressed the removal *2230power while considering the bill creating the Department of Foreign Affairs. Speaking through Chief Justice Taft-a judicial presidentialist if ever there was one-this Court in Myers v. United States , 272 U.S. 52, 47 S.Ct. 21, 71 L.Ed. 160 (1926), read that debate as expressing Congress's judgment that the Constitution gave the President illimitable power to remove executive officials. The majority rests its own historical claim on that analysis (though somehow also finding room for its two exceptions). See ante, at 2197 - 2198. But Taft's historical research has held up even worse than Myers ' holding (which was mostly reversed, see infra , at 2200 - 2201). As Dean Manning has concluded after reviewing decades' worth of scholarship on the issue, "the implications of the debate, properly understood, [are] highly ambiguous and prone to overreading." Manning, 124 Harv. L. Rev., at 1965, n. 135; see id., at 2030-2031.

The best view is that the First Congress was "deeply divided" on the President's removal power, and "never squarely addressed" the central issue here. Id., at 1965, n. 135; Prakash, New Light on the Decision of 1789, 91 Cornell L. Rev. 1021, 1072 (2006). The congressional debates revealed three main positions. See Corwin, 27 Colum. L. Rev., at 361. Some shared Hamilton's Federalist No. 77 view: The Constitution required Senate consent for removal. At the opposite extreme, others claimed that the Constitution gave absolute removal power to the President. And a third faction maintained that the Constitution placed Congress in the driver's seat: The legislature could regulate, if it so chose, the President's authority to remove. In the end, Congress passed a bill saying nothing about removal, leaving the President free to fire the Secretary of Foreign Affairs at will. But the only one of the three views definitively rejected was Hamilton's theory of necessary Senate consent. As even strong proponents of executive power have shown, Congress never "endorse[d] the view that [it] lacked authority to modify" the President's removal authority when it wished to. Prakash, supra, at 1073 ; see Manning, supra, at 1965, n. 135, 2030-2031. The summer of 1789 thus ended without resolution of the critical question: Was the removal power "beyond the reach of congressional regulation?" Prakash, supra, at 1072.

At the same time, the First Congress gave officials handling financial affairs-as compared to diplomatic and military ones-some independence from the President. The title and first section of the statutes creating the Departments of Foreign Affairs and War designated them "executive departments." Act of July 27, 1789, ch. 4, 1 Stat. 28; Act of Aug. 7, 1789, ch. 7, 1 Stat. 49. The law creating the Treasury Department conspicuously avoided doing so. See Act of Sept. 2, 1789, ch. 12, 1 Stat. 65. That difference in nomenclature signaled others of substance. Congress left the organization of the Departments of Foreign Affairs and War skeletal, enabling the President to decide how he wanted to staff them. See Casper, An Essay in Separation of Powers, 30 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 211, 239-241 (1989). By contrast, Congress listed each of the offices within the Treasury Department, along with their functions. See ibid. Of the three initial Secretaries, only the Treasury's had an obligation to report to Congress when requested. See § 2, 1 Stat. 65-66. And perhaps most notable, Congress soon deemed the Comptroller of the Treasury's settlements of public accounts "final and conclusive." Act of Mar. 3, 1795, ch. 48, § 4, 1 Stat. 441-442. That decision, preventing presidential overrides, marked the Comptroller as exercising independent *2231judgment.5 True enough, no statute shielded the Comptroller from discharge. But even James Madison, who at this point opposed most removal limits, told Congress that "there may be strong reasons why an officer of this kind should not hold his office at the pleasure" of the Secretary or President. 1 Annals of Cong. 612. At the least, as Professor Prakash writes, "Madison maintained that Congress had the [constitutional] authority to modify [the Comptroller's] tenure." Prakash, supra , at 1071.

Contrary to the majority's view, then, the founding era closed without any agreement that Congress lacked the power to curb the President's removal authority. And as it kept that question open, Congress took the first steps-which would launch a tradition-of distinguishing financial regulators from diplomatic and military officers. The latter mainly helped the President carry out his own constitutional duties in foreign relations and war. The former chiefly carried out statutory duties, fulfilling functions Congress had assigned to their offices. In addressing the new Nation's finances, Congress had begun to use its powers under the Necessary and Proper Clause to design effective administrative institutions. And that included taking steps to insulate certain officers from political influence.

2

As the decades and centuries passed, those efforts picked up steam. Confronting new economic, technological, and social conditions, Congress-and often the President-saw new needs for pockets of independence within the federal bureaucracy. And that was especially so, again, when it came to financial regulation. I mention just a few highlights here-times when Congress decided that effective governance depended on shielding technical or expertise-based functions relating to the financial system from political pressure (or the moneyed interests that might lie behind it). Enacted under the Necessary and Proper Clause, those measures-creating some of the Nation's most enduring institutions-themselves helped settle the extent of Congress's power. "[A] regular course of practice," to use Madison's phrase, has "liquidate[d]" constitutional meaning about the permissibility of independent agencies. See supra, at 2228 - 2229.

Take first Congress's decision in 1816 to create the Second Bank of the United States-"the first truly independent agency in the republic's history." Lessig & Sunstein, The President and the Administration, 94 Colum. L. Rev. 1, 30 (1994). Of the twenty-five directors who led the Bank, the President could appoint and remove only five. See Act of Apr. 10, 1816, § 8, 3 Stat. 269. Yet the Bank had a greater impact on the Nation than any but a few institutions, regulating the Nation's money supply in ways anticipating what the Federal Reserve does today. Of *2232course, the Bank was controversial-in large part because of its freedom from presidential control. Andrew Jackson chafed at the Bank's independence and eventually fired his Treasury Secretary for keeping public moneys there (a dismissal that itself provoked a political storm). No matter. Innovations in governance always have opponents; administrative independence predictably (though by no means invariably) provokes presidential ire. The point is that by the early 19th century, Congress established a body wielding enormous financial power mostly outside the President's dominion.

The Civil War brought yet further encroachments on presidential control over financial regulators. In response to wartime economic pressures, President Lincoln (not known for his modest view of executive power) asked Congress to establish an office called the Comptroller of the Currency. The statute he signed made the Comptroller removable only with the Senate's consent-a version of the old Hamiltonian idea, though this time required not by the Constitution itself but by Congress. See Act of Feb. 25, 1863, ch. 58, 12 Stat. 665. A year later, Congress amended the statute to permit removal by the President alone, but only upon "reasons to be communicated by him to the Senate." Act of June 3, 1864, § 1, 13 Stat. 100. The majority dismisses the original version of the statute as an "aberration." Ante, at 2201. But in the wake of the independence given first to the Comptroller of the Treasury and then to the national Bank, it's hard to conceive of this newest Comptroller position as so great a departure. And even the second iteration of the statute preserved a constraint on the removal power, requiring a President in a firing mood to explain himself to Congress-a demand likely to make him sleep on the subject. In both versions of the law, Congress responded to new financial challenges with new regulatory institutions, alert to the perils in this area of political interference.6

And then, nearly a century and a half ago, the floodgates opened. In 1887, the growing power of the railroads over the American economy led Congress to create the Interstate Commerce Commission. Under that legislation, the President could remove the five Commissioners only "for inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office"-the same standard Congress applied to the CFPB Director. Act of Feb. 4, 1887, § 11, 24 Stat. 383. More-many more-for-cause removal provisions followed. In 1913, Congress gave the Governors of the Federal Reserve Board for-cause protection to ensure the agency would resist political *2233pressure and promote economic stability. See Act of Dec. 23, 1913, ch. 6, 38 Stat. 251. The next year, Congress provided similar protection to the FTC in the interest of ensuring "a continuous policy" "free from the effect" of "changing [White House] incumbency." 51 Cong. Rec. 10376 (1914). The Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC), the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), the Commodity Futures Trading Commission. In the financial realm, "independent agencies have remained the bedrock of the institutional framework governing U. S. markets." Gadinis, From Independence to Politics in Financial Regulation, 101 Cal. L. Rev. 327, 331 (2013). By one count, across all subject matter areas, 48 agencies have heads (and below them hundreds more inferior officials) removable only for cause. See Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 541, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting). So year by year by year, the broad sweep of history has spoken to the constitutional question before us: Independent agencies are everywhere.

C

What is more, the Court's precedents before today have accepted the role of independent agencies in our governmental system. To be sure, the line of our decisions has not run altogether straight. But we have repeatedly upheld provisions that prevent the President from firing regulatory officials except for such matters as neglect or malfeasance. In those decisions, we sounded a caution, insisting that Congress could not impede through removal restrictions the President's performance of his own constitutional duties. (So, to take the clearest example, Congress could not curb the President's power to remove his close military or diplomatic advisers.) But within that broad limit, this Court held, Congress could protect from at-will removal the officials it deemed to need some independence from political pressures. Nowhere do those precedents suggest what the majority announces today: that the President has an "unrestricted removal power" subject to two bounded exceptions. Ante , at 2188 - 2189.

The majority grounds its new approach in Myers , ignoring the way this Court has cabined that decision. Myers , the majority tells us, found an unrestrained removal power "essential to the [President's] execution of the laws." Ante, at 2197 - 2198 (quoting Myers, 272 U.S., at 117, 47 S.Ct. 21 ). What the majority does not say is that within a decade the Court abandoned that view (much as later scholars rejected Taft's one-sided history, see supra, at 2229 - 2230). In Humphrey's Executor v. United States , 295 U.S. 602, 55 S.Ct. 869, 79 L.Ed. 1611 (1935), the Court unceremoniously-and unanimously-confined Myers to its facts. "[T]he narrow point actually decided" there, Humphrey's stated, was that the President could "remove a postmaster of the first class, without the advice and consent of the Senate." 295 U.S., at 626, 55 S.Ct. 869. Nothing else in Chief Justice Taft's prolix opinion "c[a]me within the rule of stare decisis ." Ibid. (Indeed, the Court went on, everything in Myers "out of harmony" with Humphrey's was expressly "disapproved." 295 U.S., at 626, 55 S.Ct. 869.) Half a century later, the Court was more generous. Two decisions read Myers as standing for the principle that Congress's own "participation in the removal of executive officers is unconstitutional." Bowsher v. Synar , 478 U.S. 714, 725, 106 S.Ct. 3181, 92 L.Ed.2d 583 (1986) ; see Morrison , 487 U.S., at 686, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ("As we observed in Bowsher , the essence" of " Myers was the judgment that the Constitution prevents Congress from draw[ing] to itself " the power to remove (internal quotation marks omitted)). Bowsher made clear that Myers had nothing *2234to say about Congress's power to enact a provision merely "limit[ing] the President's powers of removal" through a for-cause provision. 478 U.S., at 724, 106 S.Ct. 3181. That issue, the Court stated, was "not presented" in "the Myers case." Ibid. Instead, the relevant cite was Humphrey's .

And Humphrey's found constitutional a statute identical to the one here, providing that the President could remove FTC Commissioners for "inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office." 295 U.S., at 619, 55 S.Ct. 869. The Humphrey's Court, as the majority notes, relied in substantial part on what kind of work the Commissioners performed. See id., at 628, 631, 55 S.Ct. 869 ; ante, at 2231 - 2232. (By contrast, nothing in the decision turned-as the majority suggests, see ante, at 2231 - 2232-on any of the agency's organizational features. See infra , at 2240 - 2241.) According to Humphrey's , the Commissioners' primary work was to "carry into effect legislative policies"-"filling in and administering the details embodied by [a statute's] general standard." 295 U.S., at 627-628, 55 S.Ct. 869. In addition, the Court noted, the Commissioners recommended dispositions in court cases, much as a special master does. Given those "quasi-legislative" and "quasi-judicial"-as opposed to "purely executive"-functions, Congress could limit the President's removal authority. Id., at 628, 55 S.Ct. 869.7 Or said another way, Congress could give the FTC some "independen[ce from] executive control." Id., at 629, 55 S.Ct. 869.

About two decades later, an again-unanimous Court in Wiener v. United States , 357 U.S. 349, 78 S.Ct. 1275, 2 L.Ed.2d 1377 (1958), reaffirmed Humphrey's . The question in Wiener was whether the President could dismiss without cause members of the War Claims Commission, an entity charged with compensating injuries arising from World War II. Disdaining Myers and relying on Humphrey's , the Court said he could not. The Court described as "short-lived" Myers ' view that the President had "inherent constitutional power to remove officials, no matter what the relation of the executive to the discharge of their duties." 357 U.S., at 352, 78 S.Ct. 1275.8 Here, the Commissioners were not close agents of the President, who needed to be responsive to his preferences. Rather, they exercised adjudicatory responsibilities over legal claims. Congress, the Court found, had wanted the Commissioners to do so "free from [political] control or coercive influence." Id., at 355, 78 S.Ct. 1275 (quoting Humphrey's , 295 U.S., at 629, 55 S.Ct. 869 ). And that choice, as Humphrey's had *2235held, was within Congress's power. The Constitution enabled Congress to take down "the Damocles' sword of removal" hanging over the Commissioners' heads. 357 U.S., at 356, 78 S.Ct. 1275.

Another three decades on, Morrison both extended Humphrey's domain and clarified the standard for addressing removal issues. The Morrison Court, over a one-Justice dissent, upheld for-cause protections afforded to an independent counsel with power to investigate and prosecute crimes committed by high-ranking officials. The Court well understood that those law enforcement functions differed from the rulemaking and adjudicatory duties highlighted in Humphrey's and Wiener . But that difference did not resolve the issue. An official's functions, Morrison held, were relevant to but not dispositive of a removal limit's constitutionality. The key question in all the cases, Morrison saw, was whether such a restriction would "impede the President's ability to perform his constitutional duty." 487 U.S., at 691, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Only if it did so would it fall outside Congress's power. And the protection for the independent counsel, the Court found, did not. Even though the counsel's functions were "purely executive," the President's "need to control the exercise of [her] discretion" was not "so central to the functioning of the Executive Branch as to require" unrestricted removal authority. Id., at 690-691, 108 S.Ct. 2597. True enough, the Court acknowledged, that the for-cause standard prevented the President from firing the counsel for discretionary decisions or judgment calls. But it preserved "ample authority" in the President "to assure that the counsel is competently performing" her "responsibilities in a manner that comports with" all legal requirements. Id., at 692, 108 S.Ct. 2597. That meant the President could meet his own constitutional obligation "to ensure 'the faithful execution' of the laws." Ibid. ; see supra, at 2228.9

The majority's description of Morrison , see ante, at 2198 - 2199, is not true to the decision. (Mostly, it seems, the majority just wishes the case would go away. See ante, at 2200, n. 4.) First, Morrison is no "exception" to a broader rule from Myers . Morrison echoed all of Humphrey's criticism of the by-then infamous Myers "dicta." 487 U.S., at 687, 108 S.Ct. 2597. It again rejected the notion of an "all-inclusive" removal power. Ibid. It yet further confined Myers ' reach, making clear that Congress could restrict the President's removal of officials carrying out even the most traditional executive functions. And the decision, with care, set out the governing rule-again, that removal restrictions are permissible so long as they do not impede the President's performance of his own constitutionally assigned duties. Second, *2236as all that suggests, Morrison is not limited to inferior officers. In the eight pages addressing the removal issue, the Court constantly spoke of "officers" and "officials" in general. 487 U.S., at 685-693, 108 S.Ct. 2597. By contrast, the Court there used the word "inferior" in just one sentence (which of course the majority quotes), when applying its general standard to the case's facts. Id., at 691, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Indeed, Justice Scalia's dissent emphasized that the counsel's inferior-office status played no role in the Court's decision. See id., at 724, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ("The Court could have resolved the removal power issue in this case by simply relying" on that status, but did not). As Justice Scalia noted, the Court in United States v. Perkins , 116 U.S. 483, 484-485, 6 S.Ct. 449, 29 L.Ed. 700 (1886), had a century earlier allowed Congress to restrict the President's removal power over inferior officers. See Morrison , 487 U.S., at 723-724, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Were that Morrison 's basis, a simple citation would have sufficed.

Even Free Enterprise Fund , in which the Court recently held a removal provision invalid, operated within the framework of this precedent-and in so doing, left in place a removal provision just like the one here. In that case, the Court considered a "highly unusual" scheme of double for-cause protection. 561 U.S., at 505, 130 S.Ct. 3138. Members of an accounting board were protected from removal by SEC Commissioners, who in turn were protected from removal by the President. The Court found that the two-layer structure deprived the President of "adequate control" over the Board members. Id., at 508, 130 S.Ct. 3138. The scheme "impaired" the President's "ability to execute the laws," the Court explained, because neither he nor any fully dependent agent could decide "whether[ ] good cause exists" for a discharge. Id., at 495-496, 130 S.Ct. 3138. That holding cast no doubt on ordinary for-cause protections, of the kind in the Court's prior cases (and here as well). Quite the opposite. The Court observed that it did not "take issue with for-cause limitations in general"-which do enable the President to determine whether good cause for discharge exists (because, say, an official has violated the law). Id., at 501, 130 S.Ct. 3138. And the Court's solution to the constitutional problem it saw was merely to strike one level of insulation, making the Board removable by the SEC at will. That remedy left the SEC's own for-cause protection in place. The President could thus remove Commissioners for malfeasance or neglect, but not for policy disagreements. See ante, at 2206 - 2207.

So caselaw joins text and history in establishing the general permissibility of for-cause provisions giving some independence to agencies. Contrary to the majority's view, those laws do not represent a suspicious departure from illimitable presidential control over administration. For almost a century, this Court has made clear that Congress has broad discretion to enact for-cause protections in pursuit of good governance.

D

The deferential approach this Court has taken gives Congress the flexibility it needs to craft administrative agencies. Diverse problems of government demand diverse solutions. They call for varied measures and mixtures of democratic accountability and technical expertise, energy and efficiency. Sometimes, the arguments push toward tight presidential control of agencies. The President's engagement, some people say, can disrupt bureaucratic stagnation, counter industry capture, and make agencies more responsive to public interests. See, well, Kagan, *2237Presidential Administration, 114 Harv. L. Rev. 2245, 2331-2346 (2001). At other times, the arguments favor greater independence from presidential involvement. Insulation from political pressure helps ensure impartial adjudications. It places technical issues in the hands of those most capable of addressing them. It promotes continuity, and prevents short-term electoral interests from distorting policy. (Consider, for example, how the Federal Reserve's independence stops a President trying to win a second term from manipulating interest rates.) Of course, the right balance between presidential control and independence is often uncertain, contested, and value-laden. No mathematical formula governs institutional design; trade-offs are endemic to the enterprise. But that is precisely why the issue is one for the political branches to debate-and then debate again as times change. And it's why courts should stay (mostly) out of the way. Rather than impose rigid rules like the majority's, they should let Congress and the President figure out what blend of independence and political control will best enable an agency to perform its intended functions.

Judicial intrusion into this field usually reveals only how little courts know about governance. Even everything I just said is an over-simplification. It suggests that agencies can easily be arranged on a spectrum, from the most to the least presidentially controlled. But that is not so. A given agency's independence (or lack of it) depends on a wealth of features, relating not just to removal standards, but also to appointments practices, procedural rules, internal organization, oversight regimes, historical traditions, cultural norms, and (inevitably) personal relationships. It is hard to pinpoint how those factors work individually, much less in concert, to influence the distance between an agency and a President. In that light, even the judicial opinions' perennial focus on removal standards is a bit of a puzzle. Removal is only the most obvious, not necessarily the most potent, means of control. See generally Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 524, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting). That is because informal restraints can prevent Presidents from firing at-will officers-and because other devices can keep officers with for-cause protection under control. Of course no court, as Free Enterprise Fund noted, can accurately assess the "bureaucratic minutiae" affecting a President's influence over an agency. Id. , at 500, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (majority opinion); ante, at 2208 (reprising the point). But that is yet more reason for courts to defer to the branches charged with fashioning administrative structures, and to hesitate before ruling out agency design specs like for-cause removal standards.

Our Constitution, as shown earlier, entrusts such decisions to more accountable and knowledgeable actors. See supra, at 2226 - 2229. The document-with great good sense-sets out almost no rules about the administrative sphere. As Chief Justice Marshall wrote when he upheld the first independent financial agency: "To have prescribed the means by which government should, in all future time, execute its powers, would have been to change, entirely, the character of the instrument." McCulloch , 4 Wheat. at 415. That would have been, he continued, "an unwise attempt to provide, by immutable rules, for exigencies which, if foreseen at all, must have been seen dimly." Ibid. And if the Constitution, for those reasons, does not lay out immutable rules, then neither should judges. This Court has usually respected that injunction. It has declined to second-guess the work of the political branches in creating independent agencies like the CFPB. In reversing course today-in spurning a "pragmatic, flexible approach to American governance" in favor *2238of a dogmatic, inflexible one, ante, at 2207-the majority makes a serious error.

II

As the majority explains, the CFPB emerged out of disaster. The collapse of the subprime mortgage market "precipitat[ed] a financial crisis that wiped out over $10 trillion in American household wealth and cost millions of Americans their jobs, their retirements, and their homes." Ante, at 2192. In that moment of economic ruin, the President proposed and Congress enacted legislation to address the causes of the collapse and prevent a recurrence. An important part of that statute created an agency to protect consumers from exploitative financial practices. The agency would take over enforcement of almost 20 existing federal laws. See 12 U. S. C. § 5581. And it would administer a new prohibition on "unfair, deceptive, or abusive act[s] or practice[s]" in the consumer-finance sector. § 5536(a)(1)(B).

No one had a doubt that the new agency should be independent. As explained already, Congress has historically given-with this Court's permission-a measure of independence to financial regulators like the Federal Reserve Board and the FTC. See supra, at 2197 - 2200. And agencies of that kind had administered most of the legislation whose enforcement the new statute transferred to the CFPB. The law thus included an ordinary for-cause provision-once again, that the President could fire the CFPB's Director only for "inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office." § 5491(c)(3). That standard would allow the President to discharge the Director for a failure to "faithfully execute[ ]" the law, as well as for basic incompetence. U. S. Const., Art. II, § 3 ; see supra, at 2195, 2202. But it would not permit removal for policy differences.

The question here, which by now you're well equipped to answer, is whether including that for-cause standard in the statute creating the CFPB violates the Constitution.

A

Applying our longstanding precedent, the answer is clear: It does not. This Court, as the majority acknowledges, has sustained the constitutionality of the FTC and similar independent agencies. See ante, at 2191 - 2192, 2231 - 2233. The for-cause protections for the heads of those agencies, the Court has found, do not impede the President's ability to perform his own constitutional duties, and so do not breach the separation of powers. See supra, at 2200 - 2203. There is nothing different here. The CFPB wields the same kind of power as the FTC and similar agencies. And all of their heads receive the same kind of removal protection. No less than those other entities-by now part of the fabric of government-the CFPB is thus a permissible exercise of Congress's power under the Necessary and Proper Clause to structure administration.

First, the CFPB's powers are nothing unusual in the universe of independent agencies. The CFPB, as the majority notes, can issue regulations, conduct its own adjudications, and bring civil enforcement actions in court-all backed by the threat of penalties. See ante, at 2191; 12 U. S. C. §§ 5512, 5562 - 5565. But then again, so too can (among others) the FTC and SEC, two agencies whose regulatory missions parallel the CFPB's. See 15 U. S. C. §§ 45, 53, 57a, 57b-3, 78u, 78v, 78w. Just for a comparison, the CFPB now has 19 enforcement actions pending, while the SEC brought 862 such actions last year alone. See Brief for Petitioner 7; SEC, Div. of Enforcement 2019 Ann. Rep. 14. And although the majority bemoans that the *2239CFPB can "bring the coercive power of the state to bear on millions of private citizens," ante, at 2200 - 2201, that scary-sounding description applies to most independent agencies. Forget that the more relevant factoid for those many citizens might be that the CFPB has recovered over $11 billion for banking consumers. See ante, at 2193. The key point here is that the CFPB got the mass of its regulatory authority from other independent agencies that had brought the same "coercive power to bear." See 12 U. S. C. § 5581 (transferring power from, among others, the Federal Reserve, FTC, and FDIC). Congress, to be sure, gave the CFPB new authority over "unfair, deceptive, or abusive act[s] or practice[s]" in transactions involving a "consumer financial product or service." §§ 5517(a)(1), 5536(a)(1). But again, the FTC has power to go after "unfair or deceptive acts or practices in or affecting commerce"-a portfolio spanning a far wider swath of the economy. 15 U. S. C. § 45(a)(1).10 And if influence on economic life is the measure, consider the Federal Reserve, whose every act has global consequence. The CFPB, gauged by that comparison, is a piker.

Second, the removal protection given the CFPB's Director is standard fare. The removal power rests with the President alone; Congress has no role to play, as it did in the laws struck down in Myers and Bowsher . See supra, at 2233 - 2234. The statute provides only one layer of protection, unlike the law in Free Enterprise Fund . See supra, at 2236. And the clincher, which you have heard before: The for-cause standard used for the CFPB is identical to the one the Court upheld in Humphrey's . Both enable the President to fire an agency head for "inefficiency, neglect of duty, or malfeasance in office." See 12 U. S. C. § 5491(c)(3) ; 15 U. S. C. § 41 ; supra, at 2234. A removal provision of that kind applied to a financial agency head, this Court has held, does not "unduly trammel[ ] on executive authority," even though it prevents the President from dismissing the official for a discretionary policy judgment. Morrison , 487 U.S., at 691, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Once again: The removal power has not been "completely stripped from the President," providing him with no means to "ensure the 'faithful execution' of the laws." Id., at 692, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ; see supra, at 2202. Rather, this Court has explained, the for-cause standard gives the President "ample authority to assure that [the official] is competently performing his *2240or her statutory responsibilities in a manner that comports with" all legal obligations. 487 U.S., at 692, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ; see supra, at 2235. In other words-and contra today's majority-the President's removal power, though not absolute, gives him the "meaningful[ ] control[ ]" of the Director that the Constitution requires. Ante, at 2203 - 2204.

The analysis is as simple as simple can be. The CFPB Director exercises the same powers, and receives the same removal protections, as the heads of other, constitutionally permissible independent agencies. How could it be that this opinion is a dissent?

B

The majority focuses on one (it says sufficient) reason: The CFPB Director is singular, not plural. "Instead of placing the agency under the leadership of a board with multiple members," the majority protests, "Congress provided that the CFPB would be led by a single Director." Ante, at 2191.11 And a solo CFPB Director does not fit within either of the majority's supposed exceptions. He is not an inferior officer, so (the majority says) Morrison does not apply; and he is not a multimember board, so (the majority says) neither does Humphrey's . Further, the majority argues, "[a]n agency with a [unitary] structure like that of the CFPB" is "novel"-or, if not quite that, "almost wholly unprecedented." Ante, at 2188 - 2189, 2200 - 2201. Finally, the CFPB's organizational form violates the "constitutional structure" because it vests power in a "single individual" who is "insulated from Presidential control." Ante, at 2188 - 2189, 2203 - 2204.

I'm tempted at this point just to say: No. All I've explained about constitutional text, history, and precedent invalidates the majority's thesis. But I'll set out here some more targeted points, taking step by step the majority's reasoning.

First, as I'm afraid you've heard before, the majority's "exceptions" (like its general rule) are made up. See supra, at 2232 - 2236. To begin with, our precedents reject the very idea of such exceptions. "The analysis contained in our removal cases," Morrison stated, shuns any attempt "to define rigid categories" of officials who may (or may not) have job protection. 487 U.S., at 689, 108 S.Ct. 2597. Still more, the contours of the majority's exceptions don't connect to our decisions' reasoning. The analysis in Morrison , as I've shown, extended far beyond inferior officers. See supra, at 2235 - 2236. And of course that analysis had to apply to individual officers: The independent counsel was very much a person, not a committee. So the idea that Morrison is in a separate box from this case doesn't hold up.12 Similarly, *2241Humphrey's and later precedents give no support to the majority's view that the number of people at the apex of an agency matters to the constitutional issue. Those opinions mention the "groupness" of the agency head only in their background sections. The majority picks out that until-now-irrelevant fact to distinguish the CFPB, and constructs around it an until-now-unheard-of exception. So if the majority really wants to see something "novel," ante, at 2191 - 2192, it need only look to its opinion.

By contrast, the CFPB's single-director structure has a fair bit of precedent behind it. The Comptroller of the Currency. The Office of the Special Counsel (OSC). The Social Security Administration (SSA). The Federal Housing Finance Agency (FHFA). Maybe four prior agencies is in the eye of the beholder, but it's hardly nothing. I've already explained why the earliest of those agencies-the Civil-War-era Comptroller-is not the blip the majority describes. See supra, at 2231 - 2232. The office is one in a long line, starting with the founding-era Comptroller of the Treasury (also one person), of financial regulators designed to do their jobs with some independence. As for the other three, the majority objects: too powerless and too contested. See ante, at 2200 - 2203. I think not. On power, the SSA runs the Nation's largest government program-among other things, deciding all claims brought by its 64 million beneficiaries; the FHFA plays a crucial role in overseeing the mortgage market, on which millions of Americans annually rely; and the OSC prosecutes misconduct in the two-million-person federal workforce. All different from the CFPB, no doubt; but the majority can't think those matters beneath a President's notice. (Consider: Would the President lose more votes from a malfunctioning SSA or CFPB?) And controversial? Well, yes, they are. Almost all independent agencies are controversial, no matter how many directors they have. Or at least controversial among Presidents and their lawyers. That's because whatever might be said in their favor, those agencies divest the President of some removal power. If signing statements and veto threats made independent agencies unconstitutional, quite a few wouldn't pass muster. Maybe that's what the majority really wants (I wouldn't know)-but it can't pretend the disputes surrounding these agencies had anything to do with whether their heads are singular or plural.

Still more important, novelty is not the test of constitutionality when it comes to structuring agencies. See Mistretta v. United States , 488 U.S. 361, 385, 109 S.Ct. 647, 102 L.Ed.2d 714 (1989) ("[M]ere anomaly or innovation" does not violate the separation of powers). Congress regulates in that sphere under the Necessary and Proper Clause, not (as the majority seems to think) a Rinse and Repeat Clause. See supra, at 2227. The Framers understood that new times would often require new measures, and exigencies often demand innovation. See McCulloch , 4 Wheat. at 415 ; supra, at 2237. In line with that belief, the history of the administrative sphere-its rules, its practices, its institutions-is replete with experiment and change. See *2242supra, at 2228 - 2233. Indeed, each of the agencies the majority says now fits within its "exceptions" was once new; there is, as the saying goes, "a first time for everything." National Federation of Independent Business v. Sebelius , 567 U.S. 519, 549, 132 S.Ct. 2566, 183 L.Ed.2d 450 (2012). So even if the CFPB differs from its forebears in having a single director, that departure is not itself "telling" of a "constitutional problem." Ante, at 2200 - 2201. In deciding what this moment demanded, Congress had no obligation to make a carbon copy of a design from a bygone era.

And Congress's choice to put a single director, rather than a multimember commission, at the CFPB's head violates no principle of separation of powers. The purported constitutional problem here is that an official has "slip[ped] from the Executive's control" and "supervision"-that he has become unaccountable to the President. Ante, at 2203, 2205 (internal quotation marks omitted). So to make sense on the majority's own terms, the distinction between singular and plural agency heads must rest on a theory about why the former more easily "slip" from the President's grasp. But the majority has nothing to offer. In fact, the opposite is more likely to be true: To the extent that such matters are measurable, individuals are easier than groups to supervise.

To begin with, trying to generalize about these matters is something of a fool's errand. Presidential control, as noted earlier, can operate through many means-removal to be sure, but also appointments, oversight devices (e.g., centralized review of rulemaking or litigating positions), budgetary processes, personal outreach, and more. See Free Enterprise Fund , 561 U.S., at 524, 130 S.Ct. 3138 (BREYER, J., dissenting); supra, at 2236 - 2237.13 The effectiveness of each of those control mechanisms, when present, can then depend on a multitude of agency-specific practices, norms, rules, and organizational features. In that complex stew, the difference between a singular and plural agency head will often make not a whit of difference. Or to make the point more concrete, a multimember commission may be harder to control than an individual director for a host of reasons unrelated to its plural character. That may be so when the two are subject to the same removal standard, or even when the individual director has greater formal job protection. Indeed, the very category of multimember commissions breaks apart under inspection, spoiling the majority's essential dichotomy. See generally Brief for Rachel E. Barkow et al. as Amici Curiae . Some of those commissions have chairs appointed by the President; others do not. Some of those chairs are quite powerful; others are not. Partisan balance requirements, term length, *2243voting rules, and more-all vary widely, in ways that make a significant difference to the ease of presidential control. Why, then, would anyone distinguish along a simple commission/single-director axis when deciding whether the Constitution requires at-will removal?

But if the demand is for generalization, then the majority's distinction cuts the opposite way: More powerful control mechanisms are needed (if anything) for commissions. Holding everything else equal, those are the agencies more likely to "slip from the Executive's control." Ante, at 2204. Just consider your everyday experience: It's easier to get one person to do what you want than a gaggle. So too, you know exactly whom to blame when an individual-but not when a group-does a job badly. The same is true in bureaucracies. A multimember structure reduces accountability to the President because it's harder for him to oversee, to influence-or to remove, if necessary-a group of five or more commissioners than a single director. Indeed, that is why Congress so often resorts to hydra-headed agencies. "[M]ultiple membership," an influential Senate Report concluded, is "a buffer against Presidential control" (especially when combined, as it often is, with partisan-balance requirements). Senate Committee on Governmental Affairs, Study on Federal Regulation, S. Doc. No. 95-91, vol. 5, p. 75 (1977). So, for example, Congress constructed the Federal Reserve as it did because it is "easier to protect a board from political control than to protect a single appointed official." R. Cushman, The Independent Regulatory Commissions 153 (1941).14 It is hard to know why Congress did not take the same tack when creating the CFPB. But its choice brought the agency only closer to the President-more exposed to his view, more subject to his sway. In short, the majority gets the matter backward: Where presidential control is the object, better to have one than many.

Because it has no answer on that score, the majority slides to a different question: Assuming presidential control of any independent agency is vanishingly slim, is a single-head or a multi-head agency more capable of exercising power, and so of endangering liberty? See ante, at 2202 - 2204. The majority says a single head is the greater threat because he may wield power "unilaterally " and "[w]ith no colleagues to persuade." Ante, at 2203 - 2204 (emphasis in original). So the CFPB falls victim to what the majority sees as a constitutional anti-power-concentration principle (with an exception for the President).

If you've never heard of a statute being struck down on that ground, you're not alone. It is bad enough to "extrapolat[e]" from the "general constitutional language" of Article II's Vesting Clause an unrestricted removal power constraining Congress's ability to legislate under the Necessary and Proper Clause. Morrison , 487 U.S., at 690, n. 29, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ; see supra, at 2227 - 2228. It is still worse to extrapolate from the Constitution's general *2244structure (division of powers) and implicit values (liberty) a limit on Congress's express power to create administrative bodies. And more: to extrapolate from such sources a distinction as prosaic as that between the SEC and the CFPB-i.e., between a multi-headed and single-headed agency. That is, to adapt a phrase (or two) from our precedent, "more than" the emanations of "the text will bear." Morrison , 487 U.S., at 690, n. 29, 108 S.Ct. 2597. By using abstract separation-of-powers arguments for such purposes, the Court "appropriate[s]" the "power delegated to Congress by the Necessary and Proper Clause" to compose the government. Manning, Foreword: The Means of Constitutional Power, 128 Harv. L. Rev. 1, 78 (2014). In deciding for itself what is "proper," the Court goes beyond its own proper bounds.

And in doing so, the majority again reveals its lack of interest in how agencies work. First, the premise of the majority's argument-that the CFPB head is a mini-dictator, not subject to meaningful presidential control, see ante , at 2203 - 2204-is wrong. As this Court has seen in the past, independent agencies are not fully independent. A for-cause removal provision, as noted earlier, leaves "ample" control over agency heads in the hands of the President. Morrison , 487 U.S., at 692, 108 S.Ct. 2597 ; see supra , at 2235. He can discharge them for failing to perform their duties competently or in accordance with law, and so ensure that the laws are "faithfully executed." U. S. Const., Art. II, § 3 ; see supra, at 2229, 2235. And he can use the many other tools attached to the Office of the Presidency-including in the CFPB's case, rulemaking review-to exert influence over discretionary policy calls. See supra , at 2242, and n.13. Second, the majority has nothing but intuition to back up its essentially functionalist claim that the CFPB would be less capable of exercising power if it had more than one Director (even supposing that were a suitable issue for a court to address). Ante , at 2202 - 2204. Maybe the CFPB would be. Or maybe not. Although a multimember format tends to frustrate the President's control over an agency, see supra , at 2209 - 2211, it may not lessen the agency's own ability to act with decision and dispatch. (Consider, for a recent example, the Federal Reserve Board.) That effect presumably would depend on the agency's internal organization, voting rules, and similar matters. At the least: If the Court is going to invalidate statutes based on empirical assertions like this one, it should offer some empirical support. It should not pretend that its assessment that the CFPB wields more power more dangerously than the SEC comes from someplace in the Constitution. But today the majority fails to accord even that minimal respect to Congress.

III

Recall again how this dispute got started. In the midst of the Great Recession, Congress and the President came together to create an agency with an important mission. It would protect consumers from the reckless financial practices that had caused the then-ongoing economic collapse. Not only Congress but also the President thought that the new agency, to fulfill its mandate, needed a measure of independence. So the two political branches, acting together, gave the CFPB Director the same job protection that innumerable other agency heads possess. All in all, those branches must have thought, they had done a good day's work. Relying on their experience and knowledge of administration, they had built an agency in the way best suited to carry out its functions. They had protected the public from financial chicanery and crisis. They had governed.

*2245And now consider how the dispute ends-with five unelected judges rejecting the result of that democratic process. The outcome today will not shut down the CFPB: A different majority of this Court, including all those who join this opinion, believes that if the agency's removal provision is unconstitutional, it should be severed. But the majority on constitutionality jettisons a measure Congress and the President viewed as integral to the way the agency should operate. The majority does so even though the Constitution grants to Congress, acting with the President's approval, the authority to create and shape administrative bodies. And even though those branches, as compared to courts, have far greater understanding of political control mechanisms and agency design.

Nothing in the Constitution requires that outcome; to the contrary. "While the Constitution diffuses power the better to secure liberty, it also contemplates that practice will integrate the dispersed powers into a workable government." Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer , 343 U.S. 579, 635, 72 S.Ct. 863, 96 L.Ed. 1153 (1952) (Jackson, J., concurring). The Framers took pains to craft a document that would allow the structures of governance to change, as times and needs change. The Constitution says only a few words about administration. As Chief Justice Marshall wrote: Rather than prescribing "immutable rules," it enables Congress to choose "the means by which government should, in all future time, execute its powers." McCulloch , 4 Wheat. at 415. It authorizes Congress to meet new exigencies with new devices. So Article II does not generally prohibit independent agencies. Nor do any supposed structural principles. Nor do any odors wafting from the document. Save for when those agencies impede the President's performance of his own constitutional duties, the matter is left up to Congress.

Our history has stayed true to the Framers' vision. Congress has accepted their invitation to experiment with administrative forms-nowhere more so than in the field of financial regulation. And this Court has mostly allowed it to do so. The result is a broad array of independent agencies, no two exactly alike but all with a measure of insulation from the President's removal power. The Federal Reserve Board; the FTC; the SEC; maybe some you've never heard of. As to each, Congress thought that formal job protection for policymaking would produce regulatory outcomes in greater accord with the long-term public interest. Congress may have been right; or it may have been wrong; or maybe it was some of both. No matter-the branches accountable to the people have decided how the people should be governed.

The CFPB should have joined the ranks. Maybe it will still do so, even under today's opinion: The majority tells Congress that it may "pursu[e] alternative responses" to the identified constitutional defect-"for example, converting the CFPB into a multimember agency." Ante , at 2211. But there was no need to send Congress back to the drawing board. The Constitution does not distinguish between single-director and multimember independent agencies. It instructs Congress, not this Court, to decide on agency design. Because this Court ignores that sensible-indeed, that obvious-division of tasks, I respectfully dissent.