Update, October 21, 11:45 am ET: The Supreme Court released a brief order on October 21, which ruled against the Trump administration’s request to deny gender-affirming care to transgender prisoners. The order is two sentences long. It is temporary. And it does not explain the Court’s reasoning. So it is not clear why the Court ruled against Trump or even whether Trump will lose if this case reaches the Court again after it has be fully litigated in lower courts. Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito dissented. The article below was originally published on October 13.

On the first day of his second term, President Donald Trump issued an executive order requiring the Bureau of Prisons to “ensure that no Federal funds are expended for any medical procedure, treatment, or drug for the purpose of conforming an inmate’s appearance to that of the opposite sex.” Issued alongside a record 26 other orders that day, it was an unsurprising development, because Trump had made this issue one of the centerpieces of his 2024 campaign.

The fate of that executive order, as well as the US Bureau of Prisons’ (“BOP”) memoranda implementing the order, is now before the Supreme Court in a case called Trump v. Kingdom. And, while this case obviously has high stakes for incarcerated transgender people specifically, the Court’s resolution of this case could potentially have far greater reach — cutting off many cis and transgender people’s access to healthcare while they are incarcerated.

That’s because one of the central questions in Kingdom — though this issue is not yet before the justices — is when the Constitution requires prisons to provide medical care to incarcerated people. In Estelle v. Gamble (1976), the Supreme Court held that the Eighth Amendment’s ban on “cruel and unusual punishments” imposes on the government an “obligation to provide medical care for those whom it is punishing by incarceration.” People in prison, after all, cannot simply drive themselves to the hospital if they get sick. If the prison does not give them adequate medical care, they will suffer untreated and potentially die.

For procedural reasons, the Court is unlikely to opine on whether Estelle requires prisons to provide gender-affirming care to trans people right away. But the question of when the Eighth Amendment requires prisons to provide medical care to incarcerated people is front and center in the Kingdom case, which means the Court could potentially use Kingdom to limit all imprisoned people’s access to healthcare — or even to undercut the Constitution’s protections against cruel and unusual punishments more broadly.

Ironically, this case also arises out of a famous political blunder by pro-trans advocates. In 2019, when then-Sen. Kamala Harris was seeking her party’s 2020 presidential nomination, the ACLU circulated a questionnaire to candidates that asked if they would use presidential authority “to ensure that transgender and nonbinary people who rely on the state for medical care — including those in prison and immigration detention — will have access to comprehensive treatment associated with gender transition, including all necessary surgical care?” 

Harris responded that she would, and also said that she “pushed the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation to provide gender transition surgery to state inmates” while she was state attorney general. 

Years later, during his 2024 debate with Harris, Trump claimed that the then-vice president “wants to do transgender operations on illegal aliens that are in prison.” And not long after, his opposition to gender-affirming care for trans people in prison became a key part of his campaign.

It’s unclear why the ACLU thought it was a good idea to shine a light on this issue in 2019 because, at the time, the BOP provided gender-affirming care to people in federal prison. The ACLU — which represents the pro-trans side in the Kingdom case — now argues that transgender people in federal prison have had access to at least some forms of gender-affirming care “since at least 1992.”

Indeed, Trump’s own administration concluded in a 2018 memo that the Bureau of Prisons’ “statutory mandate to provide basic medical and mental health care” to incarcerated people obligated it to provide “pharmaceutical interventions (e.g., cross-gender hormone therapy), hair removal and surgery (if individualized assessment indicates surgical intervention is applicable)” to transgender people in prison if their doctors determined that these interventions are “medically necessary care.”

In any event, regardless of why Trump fixated on cutting off trans healthcare for people in federal prison, Kingdom is now before the Court. That means that the fate of trans people in prison — and, if the Eighth Amendment issue eventually reaches the Court, all incarcerated people — is now in the hands of a Republican Court that is often hostile to trans litigants, and that has, at times, signaled that it wants to drastically roll back the scope of the Eighth Amendment.

What are the legal issues in the Kingdom case?

At least since Estelle, the Court has held that people who are incarcerated are not also sentenced to live and die without medical care. As the Court said in Brown v. Plata (2011), “a prison that deprives prisoners of basic sustenance, including adequate medical care, is incompatible with the concept of human dignity and has no place in civilized society.”

Under Estelle and Brown, transgender people often have a right to gender-affirming care during their incarceration. As the US Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit held in Edmo v. Corizon (2019), such a person must show that they have a “serious medical need” for such care — typically by demonstrating that the care was prescribed to them by their health provider. But the Constitution does not permit prisons to deny medically necessary care to incarcerated people.

In Kingdom, the ACLU raised this Eighth Amendment argument in the lower courts, but those lower courts ruled in favor of transgender people in prison on different, much more technical legal grounds.

For over three decades, from at least 1992 to 2025, according to the ACLU’s brief to the justices, the BOP provided at least some gender-affirming care, including hormone therapy, to transgender people. This matters because, when a federal agency changes its policies, a federal law typically requires it to “examine the relevant data and articulate a satisfactory explanation for its action, including a rational connection between the facts found and the choice made.” This explanation often must explain the agency’s justification for “disregarding facts and circumstances” that justified the previous policy.

Both the ACLU and the lower courts that heard Kingdom argue that the Trump administration did not comply with this obligation when it cut off care for trans people in prison. 

Among other things, the district court that heard this case determined that the administration cited “zero evidence from its own medical or mental health care professionals to support its conclusions” against providing transgender healthcare. While the Trump administration argues that providing gender-affirming care makes prisons less safe, the district court also noted that “the government has not cited a single instance of gender-affirming care giving rise to safety concerns despite having provided such care for many years.”

Is this a persuasive legal argument against the Trump administration’s new policy? I think it is. And so did three federal judges that previously heard the Kingdom case. But the fate of trans people in prison is now in the hands of a Supreme Court that rarely rules in favor of transgender litigants, and that has a history of handing down legally incoherent opinions that are inconsistent with the Court’s own precedents, and that also deny legal rights to trans people.

The current Court’s uncertain commitment to the Eighth Amendment

Because the lower courts that heard Kingdom did not rule on the Eighth Amendment question, Kingdom should not currently give the justices an opportunity to roll back Estelle. But, in the likely event that this Court rejects the ACLU’s argument that the Trump administration did not adequately explain its new policy, the case will return to the lower courts and the Eighth Amendment issue will be fully litigated — teeing up the Eighth Amendment question for the justices to decide in the near future.

This issue could arise, moreover, at the exact moment that some justices are pushing for sweeping changes to how their Court understands the term “cruel and unusual punishments.” Indeed, at least some of the Supreme Court’s recent Eighth Amendment precedents suggest that the Republican justices want a wholesale rewrite of the Court’s previous precedents laying out what constitutes cruel and unusual punishment.

Since the mid-to-late twentieth century, the Court has held that, in Chief Justice Earl Warren’s words, the Eighth Amendment “must draw its meaning from the evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society.” Thus, as certain forms of punishment grow more uncommon, they become more constitutionally dubious.

This “evolving standards of decency” framework is front and center in nearly every major Supreme Court decision interpreting the Eighth Amendment for the last five or six decades, including Estelle.

In Bucklew v. Precythe (2019), however, the Court’s Republican majority seemed to abandon this framework. Although decades worth of pre-Bucklew decisions established that a punishment is unconstitutional if it is considered cruel and unusual today, Bucklew suggested that a method of punishment is unconstitutional only if it “had fallen out of use” at “the time of the founding.” 

Bucklew did list some methods of punishment that fail this test, but they are things like “disemboweling” or “burning alive.”  

Thus, if taken seriously, Bucklew’s new approach to Eighth Amendment cases would dramatically expand the government’s power to impose harsh punishments. The late Justice Antonin Scalia, for example, argued that a Bucklew-like approach to the Eighth Amendment does not prohibit the government from executing most intellectually disabled offenders, and that it does not limit the government’s ability to impose excessive punishments for minor crimes.

In fairness, some of the Court’s post-Bucklew decisions are inconsistent with the framework the Court laid out in that case. So at least some of the justices who joined Bucklew may have since decided that it’s a bad idea to toss out the Court’s entire framework for Eighth Amendment cases. But Bucklew was one hell of a warning shot over the bow of the Eighth Amendment. And the mere fact that the Bucklew decision exists means that advocates for humane punishments must hold their breath any time this Court is asked whether a particular punishment is cruel and unusual.

In the worst-case scenario for people in prison, a case like Kingdom could inspire the Republican justices to overrule — or, at least, drastically limit — decisions like Estelle and Brown. That would mean that all incarcerated people, regardless of their gender identity, could lose access to medically necessary care unless the government decides to give it to them as an act of grace.

Inside Chief Justice John Roberts are two wolves.

The first wolf is a staunch conservative who spent much of his career litigating on behalf of corporate interests. This wolf looks at a series of climate change lawsuits that could potentially cost the oil industry billions of dollars or more, and recoils in horror.

The second wolf is a judge tasked with following the law wherever it leads. And that wolf seemed baffled by the oil industry’s arguments in Suncor Energy v. County Commissioners of Boulder County, a Supreme Court case where two oil companies are asking the justices to shut down dozens of climate change lawsuits.

The Court’s decision in Suncor is likely to shape the future of climate litigation in the United States. If the oil industry prevails, that will probably shut down climate change-related suits in state courts — and it may shut them down entirely because it is unclear whether federal law allows these suits to proceed in federal court. If the oil industry loses, by contrast, it could face dozens of suits in state courts across the country seeking billions of dollars or more.

And the outcome in Suncor is likely to turn on which wolf shows up to the justices’ conference on how to decide the case. Roberts, who asked the most ambiguous questions at Monday’s oral argument in Suncor, clearly wants these lawsuits to disappear. But he also appeared doubtful that the oil companies’ weak legal arguments will allow him to make that disappearing act happen.

Notably, Justice Samuel Alito, who owns stock in oil and gas companies, is recused from hearing the case. So, in the likely event that all three of the Court’s Democrats hold together against the oil companies, Roberts would split the Court 4-4 if he decides to join them. That would leave the Court unable to render a decision, and a lower court opinion, which rejected the oil companies’ bid for lawsuit immunity, would remain in effect.

That said, at least two other justices asked questions suggesting that their votes may potentially be in play. Justice Clarence Thomas, who otherwise appeared sympathetic to the oil companies, repeatedly asked whether his Court has jurisdiction to hear Suncor in the first place. Meanwhile, while most of Democratic Justice Elena Kagan’s questions seemed to favor allowing the climate change lawsuits to proceed, she did ask some questions at the end that indicated that she may be looking for a narrow reason to hand the oil companies a win.

The bottom line is that it is difficult to predict how this case will turn out, as more than one justice asked questions that suggest that their vote is, at least, in play. But the outcome is likely to hinge upon the tension within Roberts — who both signaled that he wants the oil companies to win, but who also expressed deep skepticism of their primary legal argument.

So what is Suncor actually about?

Suncor is one of many lawsuits brought by state or local governments (in this case, the plaintiff is Boulder, Colorado) who’ve sued oil companies claiming that those companies should be liable for the harms caused by climate change within those governments’ jurisdictions. In this particular case, the defendants are Exxon Mobil and Suncor, a company that operates two oil refineries in Colorado. 

The lawyer for these two companies, Kannon Shanmugam, told the justices that there are about 60 similar cases brought by municipal governments throughout the country. And, in one of his more pro-oil moments during Monday’s oral argument, Roberts predicted that if Boulder wins in the Supreme Court, there will be numerous other copycat lawsuits filed by other municipalities.

The question in Suncor is whether state courts, including Colorado’s own courts, are forbidden from hearing these sorts of climate change lawsuits.

As Roberts pointed out in one of his less pro-oil moments during Monday’s argument, “there are a lot of familiar situations where conduct outside of a state has broad effects on other states…and yet we allow the state courts in a particular state to bring litigation.” He pointed to “mass tort” suits and “complaints about operations of the internet” as two examples where state courts hear lawsuits involving harms that arise across state borders.

The oil companies’ primary argument is that suits involving air and water pollution are special. But their evidence supporting this argument is confusing and difficult to parse. 

Briefly, the oil companies point to several cases, many of which were decided more than a century ago. These cases held that, before Congress enacted the Clean Air Act in 1963, states could sometimes sue other states for cross-border pollution, even though no federal law forbade such pollution. The Supreme Court created “federal common law” permitting these suits, and the oil companies claim that this federal common law preempted any state lawsuits that covered a similar subject matter.

This federal common law, they now argue, has itself been displaced by the Clear Air Act and its partner statute, the Clean Water Act, but the principle that state suits involving air and water pollution are preempted is somehow still in effect. Although there is no provision in the text of the Constitution that supports this argument by the oil companies, those companies claim that their argument is implicit in the “structure of the Constitution.”

The oil companies’ primary legal argument is difficult to understand

If you are confused by all the arcane history and logical leaps contained in the oil companies’ argument, don’t worry. So were most of the justices. Only Justice Brett Kavanaugh, who repeatedly claimed that his Court’s precedents bar Boulder’s lawsuit, seemed to buy what the oil companies are saying without reservation. Most of the other justices expressed at least some reservations.

Justice Amy Coney Barrett, for example, argued that even under the older “federal common law” regime, states still retained some authority over environmental lawsuits, although she noted that the Court’s previous decisions do not really define the scope of that authority. Kagan pointed out that the many suits challenging climate change are similar to past litigation against tobacco and opioid manufacturers. But those suits were heard by state courts.

Many of the justices appear bothered that these lawsuits exist, but the most skeptical justices couldn’t agree on a legal theory they could use to shut them down.

It seems unlikely, in other words, that there are five votes for the oil companies’ convoluted claim that the “structure of the Constitution” somehow bars state courts from hearing climate change lawsuits. But several of the justices did appear troubled by what could happen if dozens of state courts reach conflicting judgments on who is responsible for climate change and who should receive compensation because of it. And some of these justices floated alternative theories for how to hand the oil companies a win. 

At one point, for example, Barrett floated the possibility that, if the plaintiffs lose in Suncor, they might file a new suit under the now-defunct federal common law that existed prior to the Clean Air Act. Kagan, meanwhile, suggested that perhaps the Clean Air Act could be read to preempt these suits like Suncor. According to Kagan, that law “sets up an extremely complicated scheme about how regulations of emissions should operate,” and allowing states to hear lawsuits like Suncor would “get in the way of how Congress decided to regulate greenhouse gases.”

And Roberts didn’t so much offer a legal argument in favor of the oil companies’ position as express incredulity of what would happen if those companies lose. “Presumably if you prevail,” before the Supreme Court, Roberts told Kevin Russell, the lawyer for Boulder, “the next day a municipality in every single state will file a lawsuit, copy your pleadings, and then there will be at least 50…how do you think that will work out on the ground?”

All of which is a long way of saying that the outcome in Suncor is uncertain. The oil companies led with a weak legal argument, and only Kavanaugh seemed to fully embrace that argument. Many of the justices appear bothered that these lawsuits exist, but the most skeptical justices couldn’t agree on a legal theory they could use to shut them down.

For what it is worth, the oil companies actually do make a strong policy argument that it is a bad idea to allow state courts to do so. As they argue, climate change is a global problem caused by many polluters (and companies like Exxon that supply the oil burned by polluters) throughout the world. It could be impossible to determine which specific companies caused the specific problems caused by climate change in Boulder, Colorado. And even if this obstacle can be overcome, there are many thorny questions about which state’s law should apply when pollution from one state crosses over into another, not to mention the difficult diplomatic issues that could arise if a state court orders a foreign company to pay a large sum of money.

But under our Constitution, the proper solution if the oil companies want federal law to preempt state court suits like Suncor is that they can lobby Congress, and Congress could then draft a statute that balances these companies’ interest in avoiding many conflicting legal decisions with the interests of plaintiffs like Boulder who say they are experiencing real harms from climate change. Congress has the power, for example, to combine all of these state lawsuits into one grand federal lawsuit, where a single proceeding could determine how to portion out the costs of climate change to various energy companies, and how to divide whatever these companies are ordered to pay among the various plaintiffs.

But that solution would undoubtedly require compromises that companies like Exxon will not like. So, instead, they’ve asked the Supreme Court to give them the legal regime that they want, despite the fact that they could not articulate a persuasive legal argument for that outcome. It remains to be seen whether this Court will give the oil companies a win anyway.

The Supreme Court ruled on Friday that Missouri may not use a newly drawn Republican gerrymander during the 2026 congressional election. This decision should surprise no one because, about two weeks ago, the Supreme Court ruled that Missouri may not use a newly drawn Republican gerrymander during the 2026 congressional election.

That second decision, moreover, followed an even earlier one by Justice Brett Kavanaugh, which ruled that Missouri may not use a newly drawn Republican gerrymander during the 2026 congressional election. In that matter, Kavanaugh acted alone under a process that allows a single justice to dispose of a case — a process that the justices rarely invoke unless they view a case as so one-sided that there’s no need to formally refer it to their colleagues.

So, for those keeping track at home, that’s three times that the Supreme Court needed to decide the same exact question in less than three weeks. 

This happened because of an extraordinary round of defiance by Republican judges in the lower courts. Just minutes after Kavanaugh determined (for the first time) that Missouri cannot use the Republican gerrymander, a Trump-appointed judge in Missouri tried to countermand Kavanaugh’s decision. Then, after the full Court reaffirmed Kavanaugh’s decision, a panel of three Republican appellate judges again tried to reinstate the new maps that the Supreme Court had already twice rejected.

These judges’ behavior is disturbing. But it is also potentially a window into the future of the Supreme Court — at least if Republicans keep winning elections that allow them to fill seats on the federal judiciary.

The lower federal courts are gravid with ambitious Republican judges who reach conclusions that are either too extreme or too partisan for the current Supreme Court — such as the ones they reached in this case. These courts are also full of plausible candidates for a Supreme Court nomination who have shown unwavering loyalty to Trump, the MAGA movement, or the Republican Party — regardless of whether there are legal arguments supporting the GOP’s preferred outcomes.

Indeed, one lower court, the US Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, now functions as a kind of think tank for MAGA legal theories that less partisan judges would scoff at in disgust. This is the same court, for example, that attempted to pull the abortion medication mifepristone from the market. It’s a court that declares entire federal agencies unconstitutional. Or that orders thousands of lawfully cast ballots thrown in the trash after the Republican Party asks them to do so. The Fifth Circuit is also frequently reversed from the left by the Supreme Court.

That means that, if Republicans hold onto the Senate after the upcoming 2026 midterm elections, Trump will be able to easily identify and confirm Supreme Court nominees who make Justice Samuel Alito, the most partisan member of the current Court, look like an icon of disinterested fairness. And many of these ultra-partisan judges are young enough that they will remain viable Supreme Court candidates in future Republican administrations.

Eliminating judicial filibusters transformed who gets nominated to federal judgeships

About 13 years ago, the Senate fundamentally changed how federal judges are confirmed. Prior to late 2013, senators in the minority party could use the filibuster to block any judicial nominee who couldn’t find 60 senators who would support their confirmation. But the Senate voted in November of 2013 to allow judges to be confirmed by a simple majority vote.

Both parties have their own narratives blaming the other for this development. Republicans often claim that Democrats’ decision to filibuster a handful of President George W. Bush’s lower court nominees — before the second Bush administration, judicial filibusters were rare — was a major escalation in the partisan war over judicial confirmations. Democrats, meanwhile, blame Republicans for a significant uptick in judicial filibusters under President Barack Obama.

In any event, Senate Democrats eventually decided to allow judges to be confirmed by a majority vote after Republicans filibustered all of Obama’s nominees to three vacant seats on the powerful US Court of Appeals for the DC Circuit. That broke a logjam that otherwise would have prevented Obama from filling any of these seats, but it also created a new world where lawyers who wished to become federal judges or justices no longer needed to worry about winning votes from senators in the other party.

This new world was apparent immediately after Trump took office the first time in 2017. There was a vacant seat on the Supreme Court, largely because Senate Republicans had held it open for a year until Trump could fill it. 

During his first term, Trump largely delegated the task of picking judges to the Federalist Society, a kind of bar association for right-wing lawyers. And the Federalist Society was obsessively focused on weakening the power of federal agencies to regulate private business. 

Trump’s eventual nominee for the open seat, now-Justice Neil Gorsuch, secured his new job by advertising his eagerness to advance the conservative legal movement’s top priority. Shortly before his nomination, Gorsuch wrote a pair of opinions laying out his plan to make federal agencies subservient to the judges. And one of these opinions, according to the journalist David Kaplan, “proved decisive in clinching” the nomination for Gorsuch.

In the pre-2013 world, judges with Supreme Court ambitions often avoided making their most controversial views public out of fear that doing so would antagonize other-party senators who they might need to support their confirmation to a higher court. In 2011, for example, Kavanaugh, then a judge, was assigned to a panel considering the constitutionality of Obamacare. But he dodged the key issue in the case, instead claiming that he lacked jurisdiction to rule on whether Obamacare is lawful.

After Gorsuch’s anti-regulatory opinions scored him a Supreme Court seat, however, lower court judges took notice. And the most ambitious Republican judges started looking for opportunities to prove their conservative bona fides to the Trump White House. Before 2017, for example, Kavanaugh had avoided taking a public position on abortion. Months after Gorsuch’s confirmation, however, Kavanaugh gave a speech to a conservative think tank signaling that he would be a vote to overrule Roe v. Wade if he were given a promotion.

The confirmation process, in other words, now favors candidates who audition for judicial jobs by demonstrating that they are dependable votes on issues that drive their political party. This is especially true for Republican judicial candidates, because the Trump White House has shown such favor toward candidates who are personally loyal to Trump. But Democrats who want a judicial appointment also have similar incentives. 

Gorsuch got his seat because Republicans, who controlled the Senate in 2016 when Justice Antonin Scalia’s death opened a vacancy on the Supreme Court, refused to confirm anyone that Obama nominated to fill this seat. It now appears, in other words, that no Democrat can get confirmed to the Supreme Court unless their party controls the Senate. So Democrats with Supreme Court ambitions also have no incentive to make nice with Republicans.

The way to get a high-powered judgeship is to convince your own political party that you will use that judgeship to advance its goals.

Republican judges are openly auditioning for the Supreme Court

Gorsuch and Kavanaugh are hardly the only judges who started advertising their ideological and partisan loyalty in an apparent effort to get ahead. The lower courts are now full of judges who write extreme and often needlessly provocative opinions that seem designed to catch the eye of someone in the White House.

The Ninth Circuit’s Lawrence VanDyke, for example, is a particularly vulgar judge who was reportedly on Trump’s short list for the Supreme Court during his first term. He’s best known for opinions mocking his colleagues and left-leaning litigants in a tone more often found on MAGA podcasts than in judicial opinions. VanDyke began an opinion about transgender women last March, for example, with the line “this is a case about swinging dicks.”

Or consider Andrew Oldham, a Fifth Circuit judge known for his opinions undercutting the First Amendment, attacking voting by mail, and standing up for vaping companies’ ability to sell bubblegum-flavored nicotine products — among other things. Oldham’s chambers is a factory pumping out decisions that even cause many of the Supreme Court’s Republicans to cringe — his vaping opinion was tossed out in a unanimous decision by Alito — but that also align perfectly with the Trump administration’s preferred policy outcomes.

The federal judiciary has become a partisan institution. And that means that the future of the courts is on the ballot every two years.

Or take Judge James Ho, Oldham’s colleague on the Fifth Circuit, who is also known for his trolly opinions attacking liberal shibboleths. Rather than attempt to summarize Ho’s jurisprudence, I will simply refer readers to my 2023 profile of him: “The edgelord of the federal judiciary.”

I could name more judges who behave similarly — I bring up these three largely because they’ve been discussed in the national media as potential Supreme Court candidates if Trump gets to appoint another justice. But there’s no need to belabor the point. The bottom line is that, if a vacancy does open up on the Supreme Court, Trump will have no shortage of judges who appear to have spent their judicial careers looking for opportunities to demonstrate just how eager they are to advance a MAGA agenda, even when that means moving several steps to the right of a Supreme Court dominated by conservative Republicans.

Indeed, the Missouri incident reveals just how widespread these sorts of judicial partisans are within the lower courts. None of the Republican judges who tried to reinstate the Missouri gerrymander after it was rejected by the Supreme Court, for example, have received the same attention that VanDyke, Oldham, and Ho have received as possible Supreme Court candidates. One of them, Judge James Loken, is an 86-year-old George H.W. Bush nominee with no prospects whatsoever of getting promoted.

But the culture in the lower courts has grown so open to partisan decisionmaking that he, along with two younger colleagues, literally tried to give the Republican Party an extra US House seat after the Supreme Court had told them not to do it twice.

Which isn’t to say that every Republican federal judge, or even every Trump appointee, is a partisan hack. One of the most pointed opinions rejecting Trump’s attempt to overthrow former President Joe Biden’s victory in the 2020 election, for example, was authored by Judge Stephanos Bibas, a Trump appointee. But, while Bibas’s opinion in Donald J. Trump for President v. Secretary (2020) was excellent, it also almost certainly guaranteed that he will never become a justice. And it absolutely guaranteed that he will never be nominated by Trump.

There’s no good solution to this problem

The biggest reason why America is stuck in this mess is that its two major parties have polarized on the proper role of judges. Even setting aside the youngest generation of hyperpartisan judges, it’s long been the case that any Republican nominated to the Supreme Court will be a reliable vote against causes like abortion rights, affirmative action, and the Voting Rights Act, and an equally reliable vote in favor of the “unitary executive” and for religious conservatives who seek exemptions from state and federal laws. Any Democrat, meanwhile, will take the opposite position on these, and a whole array of other issues where the two parties have consistent positions.

This is why restoring the old filibuster rules that existed prior to 2013 will not succeed in moderating the judiciary. If anything, allowing the minority party to filibuster judges again would mean that no one would ever be confirmed to the Supreme Court, because any nominee who is acceptable to one party would be radioactive in the other party.

Ultimately, the only effective way to keep people like Oldham, Ho, or VanDyke off the Supreme Court is to elect senators and presidents who do not want them on the Supreme Court. The federal judiciary has become a partisan institution. And that means that the future of the courts is on the ballot every two years.

In a 2016 opinion, authored one year before he became a Supreme Court justice, then-Judge Neil Gorsuch warned against lawyers who tempt judges to reach conclusions that aren’t supported by the Constitution’s text. “Ours is the job of interpreting the Constitution,” the future justice wrote. “And that document isn’t some inkblot on which litigants may project their hopes and dreams for a new and perfected tort law, but a carefully drafted text judges are charged with applying according to its original public meaning.”

Gorsuch might have gazed into a crystal ball when he wrote this line, because it could have been written with a case that is now before Gorsuch’s new Court — Suncor Energy v. County Commissioners of Boulder County — in mind. 

In Suncor, city and county officials in Boulder, Colorado sued the oil behemoth Exxon Mobil, along with a company named Suncor that operates two oil refineries in Colorado. They sued in Colorado state court, seeking, in their own words, to require the two companies “to share a portion of the costs [Boulder] taxpayers face in coping with a climate altered” by the oil industry.

That alone makes Suncor, which the justices will hear on October 5, a hugely important case, because it could be the first of many lawsuits ordering oil companies to compensate the public for the costs of climate change. But the stakes in this case are even higher because of the audacity of the oil companies’ argument to the justices. 

Exxon and Suncor claim that their clients should be immune from this suit, not because any particular provision of the Constitution grants them immunity, but because state courts are forbidden from hearing climate change lawsuits under something called the “structure of the Constitution.” The oil companies claim that there’s a rule against many state environmental suits buried somewhere in this “structure,” even though it cannot be found in the Constitution’s text. 

This argument exists in an entirely different universe than the Supreme Court’s precedents governing environmental suits, which explicitly permit — and even sometimes require — state courts to hear lawsuits alleging that a company in another state or country caused pollution that migrated across state or international lines.

But there’s a bigger issue at stake here, too. If you take seriously these justices’ pledged allegiance to textualism — and its close cousin, originalism, which, in Justice Amy Coney Barrett’s words, claims that “constitutional text means what it did at the time it was ratified and that this original public meaning is authoritative” — then Suncor should be an easy case. The oil companies’ failure to even articulate an argument rooted in constitutional text should be disqualifying.

But Exxon and Suncor clearly believe they can win the case while thumbing their nose at many of the justices’ purported allegiance to textualism and originalism. It’s not hard to guess why they would believe this. Increasingly, the same justices who evangelize for textualism and originalism ignore the Constitution’s text when necessary to achieve their political goals. 

There is no textual basis, for example, for the Republican justices’ claim that President Donald Trump may use the powers of the presidency to commit crimes. Similarly, the Court’s Republican majority recently invented something called the “major questions doctrine,” which allows the justices to veto federal regulations that they deem too ambitious, even though the full Court has never even attempted to justify this doctrine by citing the text of the Constitution or any federal statute.

Now, Suncor will be a test of just how far they will go, with big ramifications not just for climate lawsuits, but potentially for any lawsuit that seeks to declare a state or federal law unconstitutional..

What are the actual legal issues in Suncor?

Many of Boulder’s claims against the oil companies arise out of a tort law theory known as “nuisance,” which often allows someone who uses their property in a way that harms someone else to be sued. If your neighbor lights a trash fire in their yard that fills your house with noxious fumes, they have created a nuisance and you may have a viable lawsuit against them.

Often, these nuisance suits involve major environmental claims, and they also often involve claims that cross state lines or even international borders. In Ohio v. Wyandotte Chemicals (1971), for example, the state of Ohio sued chemical companies located in Michigan and Canada, claiming that they “each dumped mercury into streams whose courses ultimately reach Lake Erie,” thus poisoning Ohio’s waters. The US Supreme Court ruled that Ohio’s state courts should hear this lawsuit.

In Suncor, however, the oil companies claim that lawsuits arising out of climate change are special, and may not be heard by any state’s courts. Broadly speaking, these oil companies raise two arguments, one of which is easily refuted by quoting a statute; the other is their cockamamie claim that the “structure of the Constitution” prevents state courts from hearing Boulder’s lawsuit.

One of the oil companies’ claims is that Boulder’s lawsuit is “preempted” by the federal Clean Air Act. On the surface, this argument is at least plausible, as Congress does have the power to enact federal laws that effectively nullify a state law. The Constitution states that federal laws are “the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.” 

But the oil companies’ claim that the Clean Air Act preempts climate change lawsuits in state courts is weak. That law states that “air pollution control at its source is the primary responsibility of States and local governments.” And it states that, at least with respect to stationary polluters like factories, power plants, or Suncor’s refineries, “nothing in this chapter shall preclude or deny the right of” states to adopt or enforce air pollution standards or laws, unless the state’s rule is less stringent than what federal law requires. (The Clean Air Act does sometimes preempt state suits involving pollution caused by mobile sources, such as airplanes.)

So it’s pretty clear that the Clean Air Act does not bar state nuisance suits such as Suncor.

Which brings us to the oil companies’ claim that the Constitution’s “structure” somehow bars this suit. Their brief makes the extraordinary claim that “the Court has long held that interstate pollution is an inherently federal area in which state law cannot govern,” a claim that is easily repudiated by the Wyandotte Chemicals decision, among others.

In the same brief, the oil companies claim that the structural principle that only federal courts can hear climate change lawsuits can somehow be derived from an unusual approach to environmental lawsuits that the Court invented more than 100 years ago, and that it abandoned many decades ago.

In Missouri v. Illinois (1906), the Supreme Court heard a claim that Chicago, Illinois was dumping sewage in a river that eventually flowed into Missouri. Despite the fact that there was no federal law governing water pollution at the time, the Court apparently concluded that there should be some process that states can use to sue other states that do what Illinois was accused of doing. 

The Court’s opinion in Missouri weighed the evidence in the case before ruling in Illinois’s favor. So Missouri seemed to suggest that federal courts have some power to hear environmental suits even in the absence of an act of Congress permitting them to do so.

Based on this and similar older cases that reached similar conclusions, the oil companies claim that Missouri created a “federal common law” that governed interstate environmental lawsuits in the absence of a federal statute. And they also argue that this judicially created “common law” preempted certain state environmental lawsuits. They also argue that this preemption remains in place even though federal laws such as the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act have now displaced this federal common law.

Needless to say, that’s a lot of logical leaps. The oil companies’ argument is that an extra-statutory workaround that existed many decades ago still preempts state environmental lawsuits, even though that workaround no longer exists and has been replaced by an act of Congress. They also claim that this rule against state environmental suits can be found somewhere in the “structure” of the Constitution, despite the fact that it is nowhere in the Constitution’s text.

Among other things, this confusing argument is inconsistent with a case the Supreme Court decided as recently as April. As the Court said in Hencely v. Fluor Corp. (2026), “there is no federal pre-emption in vacuo,” a Latin term meaning “in isolation,” “without a constitutional text or a federal statute to assert it.”

So the oil companies’ claim that the “structure of the Constitution,” whatever the hell that means, somehow precludes climate change lawsuits in state courts should be easily dismissed. Further, as the Court said in Hencely, a litigant making a constitutional preemption claim must cite the text of the Constitution — and the oil companies have not done that here. 

The oil companies’ brief actually makes a pretty good policy argument for only allowing federal courts to hear climate change lawsuits

Setting aside the oil companies’ risible legal arguments, they actually make a decent argument that, as a matter of policy, it would be best if climate change cases were heard in one grand federal lawsuit rather than dozens of piecemeal suits brought in state courts.

Many different fossil fuel companies in both the United States and abroad have contributed to climate change. It may be impossible to determine which company is specifically responsible for any climate change-related problems that arise in Boulder, Colorado. And, because some of the responsibility for climate change falls on foreign actors, allowing a state court to adjudicate climate change-related suits raises difficult questions of international diplomacy. 

Additionally, the fact that the Clean Air Act treats pollution from stationary and mobile sources differently complicates this case even further. How is a court supposed to determine to what extent climate change in Boulder was caused by pollution emitted from oil refineries or power plants, rather than cars or airplanes?

But these are arguments that the oil companies should present to Congress, not the Supreme Court. It is Congress’s job to decide when to preempt state law. And there’s no question that Congress could pass a law shutting down lawsuits like Suncor, while simultaneously creating a federal process that will allow Americans who are injured by climate change to seek compensation in federal court.

Passing a federal law, however, requires compromise. It requires lawmakers to weigh the concerns of voters who don’t want the same outcome that Exxon wants. And, especially given the likely outcome of the 2026 midterms, it would require the oil companies to work with Democrats to come up with a legal framework that would actually earn some bipartisan support.

Instead, the oil companies want to bypass all that by getting a Republican Supreme Court to declare lawsuits like Suncor unconstitutional. And they are apparently so confident that they can convince these justices to do so that they barely even managed to articulate a legal argument for their position.

If you felt a gust of wind late on Friday, it came from hundreds of immigration lawyers who simultaneously exhaled after the Supreme Court announced it would not hear a case known as Genalo v. Black. That case asked whether certain immigrants could be held in immigration detention facilities indefinitely without ever receiving a bond hearing or other opportunity to seek temporary release. And if the Court had decided this case, its recent immigration decisions suggest that most of the justices may have blessed indefinite detention.

The Black case originally concerned two lawful permanent residents of the United States who were arrested during the first Trump administration because of crimes the two men committed years before, and that they had already served prison sentences for committing. 

These immigrants were arrested because of a federal law, which provides that the federal government “shall take into custody” noncitizens who committed certain crimes or who are accused of involvement with terrorism so that the government may begin deportation proceedings against these individuals. This law does not allow these noncitizens to challenge their detention while their deportation case is pending. (Notably, the relevant federal law sometimes allows an immigrant to be detained without hearing if they are merely suspected of terrorism, which means the person could be detained indefinitely based on false allegations.)

Both men sued, claiming that it is unconstitutional to hold them for too long without some kind of hearing to determine whether they should be released after paying a bond. And a federal appeals court agreed, holding that “due process bars the Executive from detaining such individuals for an unreasonably prolonged period…without a bond hearing.” 

Thus, Black was more than just another flash point in America’s debates over immigration. It was a test of one of the most fundamental protections that a liberal society provides to its residents — the right not to be locked up, forever, without any way to challenge the basis of that detention. 

Now that the Supreme Court has removed the Black case from its own docket, this appeals court decision will not be formally repudiated by the Supreme Court. So immigrants who are detained indefinitely may still ask courts to give them a bond hearing — at least for now.

Still, the Court’s nondecision in Black leaves a cloud of uncertainty hanging over similarly situated immigrants. The Trump administration will no doubt continue to detain people for prolonged periods of time (most of whom won’t be able to obtain a gubernatorial pardon, like one of the men was in this case). And the question of whether these immigrants can be detained forever will remain unresolved until the Supreme Court takes up another case involving a similarly situated immigrant.

Why the case was dismissed 

Both men at the heart of the Black case spent significant amounts of time in immigration detention facilities years after serving sentences for crimes. One, a Jamaican citizen named Carol Williams Black, spent seven months in an immigration detention facility. The other, Keisy Guerrero Mariano, spent 21 months in detention without a bond hearing or other procedure that could allow him to seek release while his case was pending. These 21 months in immigration detention more than doubled the time he spent in New York state prison for his actual crime — he pled guilty to second-degree assault after he got into a fight outside a New York City restaurant.

But there is no longer a legal dispute about what should happen to either man — in the words of the law, both cases are now moot. Black has since been released from detention and says that he “made the difficult decision to leave the United States” and has no intention to return. And the Trump administration’s case against Guerrero Mariano went up in smoke in late August, after New York Gov. Kathy Hochul gave him a pardon — thus wiping away the conviction that allowed the Trump administration to detain Guerrero Mariano in the first place.

Guerrero Mariano is one of six individuals that Hochul pardoned at the time. In her official announcement, she said that she did so because these six people “have demonstrated remorse, exemplified rehabilitation and displayed a commitment to improving themselves and their communities.”

There’s also a great deal of evidence indicating that Hochul pardoned Guerrero Mariano in order to resolve his immigration case — and potentially keep the Supreme Court from deciding Black. Among other things, the actual pardon document signed by Hochul specifically states that it will grant Guerrero Mariano “relief from removal.” Guerrero Mariano’s lawyers had sought this pardon, and Hochul granted it mere days before his brief was due in the Supreme Court. 

That brief’s very first sentence, moreover, states that Hochul “granted Respondent Keisy G.M. a full and unconditional pardon of the state criminal conviction that is the sole basis for his removal,” and it urges the justices to dismiss the case as moot.

Last Thursday, Trump’s Justice Department joined a stipulation calling for the justices to dismiss the case against Guerrero Mariano, most likely because even they recognized that a lawful permanent resident with no conviction may not be detained. The Court granted that request on Friday.

So that’s good news for Guerrero Mariano, who presumably will now be able to live freely in the United States. 

Guerrero Mariano’s lawyers were right to fear a trip to the Supreme Court

It’s possible that the Supreme Court might have agreed with the lower court’s holding that immigrants who are detained for an “unreasonably prolonged period” have a constitutional right to a bond hearing — this Court has, on rare occasions, broken with the Trump administration in immigration cases. But those decisions are few and far between.

Among other things, this Court has allowed President Donald Trump to deport immigrants back to war zones. The Court’s Republican majority effectively nullified the Convention Against Torture, a treaty that is supposed to protect immigrants from being deported to nations where they will be tortured. The Court also blessed so-called Kavanaugh stops, which permit suspected immigrants to be racially profiled so long as their race or ethnicity isn’t the sole reason why they are stopped by law enforcement.

Moreover, while the US Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit’s decision in Black — the one holding that immigrants like Guerrero Mariano may receive a bond hearing if their detention is “unreasonably prolonged” — reached a plausible legal conclusion, this conclusion was not a slam dunk under the Supreme Court’s previous precedents. And that means that the justices could have easily come up with a reason to reverse that decision if they wanted.

On the one hand, the Court said in Zadvydas v. Davis (2001) that “a statute permitting indefinite detention of an alien would raise a serious constitutional problem.” On the other hand, the Court held in Demore v. Kim (2003) that an immigrant similarly situated to Guerrero Mariano may “be detained for the brief period necessary for their removal proceedings.” 

Read together, these decisions suggest that the government does have some power to detain people while their immigration case is pending. While Zadvydas indicates that this detention can go on for too long, the Court has never established when an immigrant’s detention has stretched too long. So that means that the justices would have a fair amount of leeway to allow prolonged detentions without defying any of their previous precedents.

So it’s clear why everyone from Guerrero Mariano’s lawyers to Hochul seemed concerned about what would happen if the Court decided this case. In the worst-case scenario for immigrants, Trump could have gained the power to lock many people up for years without any meaningful way to challenge their detention. In the best case, the Supreme Court may have reached the same conclusion as the Second Circuit — but even that decision was vague about how long an immigrant must be detained before they must receive a bond hearing.

In any event, the bottom line is that the Court’s decision to dismiss the Black case is good news for Guerrero Mariano. But that dismissal merely delays a reckoning for other immigrants who face prolonged detention while their case is pending.