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Sam Bankman-Fried Pushed One Boundary Too Many

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › newsletters › archive › 2023 › 08 › sam-bankman-fried-ftx-revoked-bail › 675015

This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here.

For months, the FTX founder Sam Bankman-Fried has regularly engaged with the outside world and lived in relative comfort under house arrest. Now the judge presiding over his case has had enough.

First, here are three new stories from The Atlantic:

How America got mean The GOP primary is a field of broken dreams. Drinking water is easy. Just add stuff to it.

‘Up to the Line’

Sam Bankman-Fried has long bent the rules. The FTX founder once wowed elite investors with talk of FTX’s bright future while playing the video game League of Legends during a meeting; later, he raised a “meme round” of $420.69 million from 69 investors. For years, Bankman-Fried’s maverick approach worked in his favor: His quirky persona, unruly mop of hair and all, endeared him to celebrity backers, placated regulators, and helped propel him to billionaire status by his late 20s.

This renegade attitude has not served Bankman-Fried quite as well lately. In December 2022, he was arrested in the Bahamas and charged with fraud and conspiracy to commit money laundering, among other crimes (he pleaded not guilty in January). On Friday, a judge revoked Bankman-Fried’s bail ahead of his October trial, citing a pattern of boundary-pushing behaviors, including the alleged intimidation of witnesses while on house arrest at his parents’ Bay Area home. Bankman-Fried was sent to the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, a jail with notoriously bleak conditions. Lawyers for Bankman-Fried declined to comment; his team filed an appeal on Friday.

Facing consequences is new for Bankman-Fried: For years, he built up a crypto empire while apparently betraying customer trust with impunity. That’s in part because he succeeded in charming Congress, which does not have a strong history of investigating “ask forgiveness, not permission” tech founders. The Silicon Valley establishment boosted him too, pouring money into his start-up and enabling him to install a board of directors that did not include any investors. It didn’t hurt that Bankman-Fried’s reputation as a pedigreed MIT whiz kid matched investors’ vision of what a successful tech founder looked like.

Bankman-Fried has spent his time under house arrest in ways that show a surprising amount of self-confidence for someone in the midst of a serious legal battle. Judge Lewis Kaplan of the Manhattan Federal District Court, who is presiding over Bankman-Fried’s case, said on Friday that the defendant “has gone up to the line over and over again.” Since the start of his house arrest, Bankman-Fried has invited a crypto influencer to swing by, talked with the author Michael Lewis for a book, and used a VPN to log on to the internet. His at-home conduct has not pleased the prosecution, which had already gotten the terms of his bail tightened earlier this year, after he was accused of attempting to contact another former FTX executive and possible witness in the case. Then his unorthodox behavior seemed to go even further: The New York Times published an article last month that included leaked diary entries from Caroline Ellison, the one-time head of Bankman-Fried’s crypto hedge fund, as well as his ex-girlfriend. Though the article did not say where the entries came from, lawyers for the prosecution later said that Bankman-Fried was the source. Bankman-Fried’s lawyers confirmed in a court filing that he had shared “certain documents,” but countered that he “did nothing wrong” in communicating with the Times on this matter. (Before I joined The Atlantic, I was part of the team of New York Times reporters covering the collapse of FTX, but I had no involvement with the recent article.)

In court documents, prosecutors argued that leaking the diaries was an attempt to intimidate and discredit Ellison—to make it appear that “Ellison was a jilted lover who perpetrated these crimes alone.” Ellison pleaded guilty to federal charges in December and is expected to be a key witness in Bankman-Fried’s criminal trial this fall. After the judge instituted a temporary gag order, lawyers from the Times and other organizations opposed the order on First Amendment grounds. As of Friday, the status of the gag order was not clear.

Learning that Bankman-Fried had allegedly leaked the diaries in an attempt to discredit Ellison was surprising, because they made Ellison sound fairly sympathetic. In the months before the fund collapsed, Ellison expressed doubts about her abilities as a leader—and, yes, hurt about her breakup with Bankman-Fried. She said in a message to Bankman-Fried in November that she had felt dread about FTX’s impending collapse, though she didn’t appear to act on those feelings. I was also struck by the fact that Ellison’s compensation package was much smaller than that of her male colleagues.

This case is a complex business and legal morass, but it’s also likely to involve much interpersonal messiness. Several of FTX’s leaders lived together in a penthouse in the Bahamas (including Ellison and Bankman-Fried). The colleagues, once friends, may now cooperate with the government against one another.

Before his downfall, Bankman-Fried cultivated an image as the responsible crypto leader in a Wild West industry. Now he joins the ranks of high-flying tech founders—including those who received fawning press coverage and massive funding—in the hot seat, accused of defrauding investors and conspiring to launder funds. For years, the tech industry rewarded risk taking, “disruption,” and “breaking things.” But a litany of recent scandals has made the public—and investors in particular—more skeptical of those tenets. In the 2010s, when money was cheap, venture capitalists taken in by charismatic leaders didn’t ask many questions of the companies they were getting involved with. But higher interest rates have led to layoffs, finger-pointing, and a period of relative austerity in Silicon Valley; it is no longer the case that anything goes. Start-up funding has plummeted, and investors are looking more closely at companies’ claims. Tech bosses are being investigated and accused of misconduct in federal court: The Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes was convicted of defrauding investors and ordered to report to prison a few months ago, and Charlie Javice, who sold a student-loan assistance start-up to J.P. Morgan for millions, was accused this past spring of falsifying customer data. (She pleaded not guilty to charges that she had defrauded the bank.)

Even among this group of tech founders, Bankman-Fried is a surprisingly unpredictable figure. I’ll be watching how he comports himself from here—and what Kaplan does in response.

Related:

Sam Bankman-Fried got what he wanted. Is crypto dead?

Today’s News

Prosecutors in Georgia have secured emails and text messages connecting members of Donald Trump’s legal team to the Coffee County voting-system breach in January 2021. The Biden administration released new guidance on how colleges can legally pursue diversity after the Supreme Court ruling on race-conscious admissions.

Six white ex–Mississippi law-enforcement officers pleaded guilty to state charges tied to the torture of two Black men in January.

Evening Read

Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic

The Problem With ‘Centering Blackness’ in Everyday Conversations

By Tyler Austin Harper

The hotel was soulless, like all conference hotels. I had arrived a few hours before check-in, hoping to drop off my bags before I met a friend for lunch. The employees were clearly frazzled, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of several hundred impatient academics. When I asked where I could put my luggage, the guy at the front desk simply pointed to a nearby hallway. “Wait over there with her; he’s coming back.” …

I saw the woman he was referring to. She was white and about my age. She had a conference badge and a large suitcase that she was rolling back and forth in obvious exasperation. “Been waiting long?” I asked, taking up a position on the other side of the narrow hallway. “Very,” she replied. For a while, we stood in silence, minding our phones. Eventually, we began chatting …

Then, out of nowhere, she said something that caught me completely off guard: “But I shouldn’t be complaining to you about this. I know how hard BIPOC faculty have it. You’re the last person I should be whining to.”

Read the full article.

More From The Atlantic

The other Black justice on the Supreme Court Lahaina, after the fire Israel’s democracy movement has something important to teach us. What Life magazine taught me about life

Culture Break

Delaney Allen

Read. The Ghost Forest: Racists, Radicals, and Real Estate in the California Redwoods exposes how wealthy industrialists reaped a fortune in the name of environmentalism.

Watch. You might not always know where the docuseries How to With John Wilson (streaming on Max) is headed, but you’ll enjoy the journey as it chronicles some of New York City’s strangest residents.

Play our daily crossword.

P.S.

In other tech-executive news, the fight might be on? Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg, who claimed earlier this summer that they would engage in a cage match, have since been posting on their respective social-media platforms about the battle. Musk, after saying that he was recovering from a shoulder surgery, said last week on X that “everything in camera frame” during the fight “will be ancient Rome.” Soon after, Zuckerberg wrote on Threads: “Not holding my breath for Elon, but I’ll share details on my next fight when I’m ready.” I, like Zuckerberg, am not holding my breath—though I am following along with confusion as Musk tags Zuckerberg in posts like “Knock, knock … challenge accepted … open the door” and “Thought you might want some tea, so I brought the bags.”

— Lora

Katherine Hu contributed to this newsletter.

When you buy a book using a link in this newsletter, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.

This Is the Case

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › newsletters › archive › 2023 › 08 › trump-indictment-charges-overturn-2020-election › 674887

This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here.

Donald Trump stands indicted for attempting to thwart the peaceful transfer of power and subvert the rights of American citizens. This is the moment that will decide our future as a democracy.

First, here are three new stories from The Atlantic:

The first great crisis of a second Trump term The ugly honesty of Elon Musk’s Twitter rebrand Ignore the histrionic attacks on the Supreme Court.

This Is the Case

Over the past year, state and federal prosecutors have alleged that Donald Trump went on something like a crime spree as a presidential candidate, as the sitting president, and then as a private citizen after his defeat. The charges, from Manhattan to Mar-a-Lago, include business fraud, the illegal retention of classified material, and the destruction of evidence.

All of these accusations, however, pale in importance next to the indictment handed down today.

Trump is accused of multiple conspiracies against the United States, all designed to keep him in power against the will of the voters and in violation of the Constitution. The former president—once our chief executive, the commander in chief, the leader we entrusted with the keys to nuclear hell—is accused of knowing that he lost a free and fair election, and, rather than transferring power to a duly elected successor, engaging in criminal plots against our democracy, all while firing up a mob that would later storm the Capitol. (The Trump campaign issued a rambling statement that called the charges “fake.”)

Long before now, however, Americans should have reached the conclusion, with or without a trial, that Trump is a menace to the United States and poisonous to our society. (Senator J. D. Vance of Ohio once referred to Trump as “cultural heroin,” but that was before he decided to seek power in the Republican Party.) The GOP base, controlled by Trump’s cult of personality, will likely never admit its mistake: As my colleague Peter Wehner writes, Trump’s record of “lawlessness and depravity” means nothing to Republicans. But other Republicans now, more than ever, face a moment of truth. They must decide if they are partisans or patriots. They can no longer claim to be both.

The rest of us, as a nation but also as individuals, can no longer indulge the pretense that Trump is just another Republican candidate, that supporting Donald Trump is just another political choice, and that agreeing with Trump’s attacks on our democracy is just a difference of opinion. (Those of us who share our views in the media have a particular duty to cease discussing Trump as if he were a normal candidate—or even a normal person—especially after today’s indictment.) I have long described Trump’s candidacies as moral choices and tests of civic character, but I have also cautioned that Americans, for the sake of social comity, should resist too many arguments about politics among themselves. I can no longer defend this advice.

The indictment handed down today challenges every American to put a shoulder to the wheel and defend our republic in every peaceful, legal, and civilized way they can. According to the charges, not only did Trump try to overturn the election; he presided over a clutch of co-conspirators who intended to put down any further challenges to Trump’s continued rule by force. According to the indictment:

The Deputy White House Counsel reiterated to Co-Conspirator 4 that there had not been outcome-determinative fraud in the election and that if the Defendant [Trump] remained in office nonetheless, there would be “riots in every major city in the United States.” Co-Conspirator 4 responded, “Well, [Deputy White House Counsel], that’s why there’s an Insurrection Act.”

The Insurrection Act allows the president to deploy the U.S. armed forces against American citizens. The alleged plot inside the White House was not merely to invalidate an election; it included the possibility of unleashing the American military against its own people.

This is why we can no longer merely roll our eyes when an annoying uncle rhapsodizes about stolen elections. We should not gently ask our parents if perhaps we might change the channel from Fox during dinner. We are not obligated to gingerly change the subject when an old friend goes on about “Demonrats” or the dire national-security implications around Hunter Biden’s genitalia. Enough of all this; we can love our friends and our family and our neighbors without accepting their terms of debate. To support Trump is to support sedition and violence, and we must be willing to speak this truth not only to power but to our fellow citizens.

Trump and his media enablers, of course, will fume that any criticism of choices made by millions of voters is uncivil and condescending—even as they paint other American citizens as traitors who support pedophiles and perverts. Trump has made such accusations, and the implied threat of violence behind them, part of the everyday American political environment. This brutish bullying is aimed at stopping the rest of us from speaking our mind. But after today, every American citizen who cares about the Constitution should affirm, without hesitation, that any form of association with Trump is reprehensible, that each of us will draw moral conclusions about anyone who continues to support him, and that these conclusions will guide both our political and our personal choices.

This is painful advice to give and to follow. No one, including me, wants to lose friends or chill valued relationships over so small a man as Trump. But our democracy is about to go into legal and electoral battle for its own survival. If we don’t speak up—to one another, as well as to the media and to our elected officials—and Trump defeats us all by regaining power and making a mockery of American democracy, then we’ll all have lost a lot more than a few friendships. We face in Trump a dedicated enemy of our Constitution, and if he returns to office, his next “administration” will be a gang of felons, goons, and resentful mediocrities, all of whom will gladly serve Trump’s sociopathic needs while greedily dividing the spoils of power.

In the 1982 film The Verdict, Paul Newman plays Frank Galvin, an ambulance-chasing attorney with an alcohol addiction who takes on what he thinks will be a routine malpractice suit and soon finds himself fighting for justice against powerful institutions determined to stop him. On the eve of the trial, all seems lost. His mentor and former partner tries to comfort him. “There’ll be other cases,” his friend says. Galvin knows better. “There are no other cases,” he says quietly, with his eyes closed. “This is the case.” He repeats this truth, whispering to himself, over and over: “There are no other cases. This is the case.”

Jack Smith has indicted Donald Trump for trying to overthrow our system of government. There are no other cases. This is the case.

Related:

The indictment of Donald Trump—and his enablers Trump attempted a brazen, dead-serious attack on American democracy.

Today’s News

A Michigan prosecutor charged a former state representative and a former attorney-general candidate in an investigation into voting-machine tampering in the state. Henrietta Lacks’s family has settled with Thermo Fisher Scientific. They accused the company of exploiting cells taken from Lacks more than 70 years ago without her consent.   Former President Donald Trump’s political-action committee has become financially strained because of legal fees. It now has less than $4 million left in its account.

Dispatches

Up for Debate: Conor Friedersdorf rounds up reader responses about press coverage of race.

Explore all of our newsletters here.

Evening Read

Kirn Vintage Stock / Getty / Arsh Raziuddin / The Atlantic

What If Friendship, Not Marriage, Was at the Center of Life?

By Rhaina Cohen

Kami West had been dating her current boyfriend for a few weeks when she told him that he was outranked by her best friend. West knew her boyfriend had caught snatches of her daily calls with Kate Tillotson, which she often placed on speaker mode. But she figured that he, like the men she’d dated before, didn’t quite grasp the nature of their friendship. West explained to him, “I need you to know that she’s not going anywhere. She is my No. 1.” Tillotson was there before him, and, West told him, “she will be there after you. And if you think at any point that this isn’t going to be my No. 1, you’re wrong.”

If West’s comments sound blunt, it’s because she was determined not to repeat a distressing experience from her mid-20s. Her boyfriend at that time had sensed that he wasn’t her top priority. In what West saw as an attempt to keep her away from her friend, he disparaged Tillotson, calling her a slut and a bad influence. After the relationship ended, West, 31, vowed to never let another man strain her friendship. She decided that any future romantic partners would have to adapt to her friendship with Tillotson, rather than the other way around.

Read the full article.

More From The Atlantic

Enough about Ken. Dear Therapist: My husband had a relationship with his best friend.

Culture Break

Sophia Spring / Guardian / eyevine / Redux

Read. A Pocketful of Happiness, a memoir written by the actor Richard E. Grant after the death of his wife, is a remarkable record of life after loss.

Watch. Babylon 5 (streaming on Amazon Prime Video and Apple TV+) is an eccentric ’90s sci-fi saga whose five-year storyline was planned out in advance.

Play our daily crossword.

P.S.

As you can see, I’m back at the Daily after a short break. I’ve been working on a second edition of my 2017 book, The Death of Expertise, but I was also finishing up teaching summer school at Harvard, something I’ve loved doing for 18 years. Last week, I gave my last lecture as a professor or instructor anywhere, bringing more than 35 years of teaching to a close.

I’ve loved teaching, but summer school was always one of my favorite endeavors, because I know what it’s like both as a teacher and as a student. In 1978 I talked my way into the program for high-school students—despite not being a very good high-school student—at Harvard Summer School, where I fumbled my way through calculus. (I passed. Barely.) But I had my first taste of college, and I finally saw a light at the end of the high-school tunnel.

Studying in summer seems almost unnatural, and so does teaching. (The U.S. Naval War College, where I taught for more than two decades, begins classes in August, which I always fiercely hated.) And yet there’s a gentleness to summer school on a campus that can make it seem like a natural part of a wonderful summer—especially if you’re young. When I came back to Harvard Summer School as an instructor, I had high-school students among undergraduates and even advanced graduate students. Many of them were scared, but I always made sure to tell them that I once sat where they sat (once, literally in the same classroom) and not to worry. I insisted that they take advantage of the glorious summer in Boston. And I watched some of them leave with a bit of the same trepidation I had when I returned home that summer 45 years ago.

It was time to go for me too. I’ve now given all I can offer in the classroom. But I will miss the noisy campus and the cool quiet of the classroom on a steamy day. And I will, more than any of it, miss the students—of all ages, but especially the ones who left with just a bit of wonder and excitement on their face about one day coming back to a campus.

— Tom

Katherine Hu contributed to this newsletter.

When you buy a book using a link in this newsletter, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.

The First Great Crisis of a Second Trump Term

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › ideas › archive › 2023 › 08 › constitutional-crisis-second-trump-term › 674872

Both his supporters and and his opponents assume that former President Donald Trump’s legal jeopardy will go away if he can win the 2024 presidential election. That’s a big mistake. A Trump election in 2024 would settle nothing. It would generate a nation-shaking crisis of presidential legitimacy. Trump in 2024 means chaos—and almost certainly another impeachment.

Trump’s proliferating criminal exposures have arisen in two different federal jurisdictions—Florida and the District of Columbia—and in two different state jurisdictions, New York and Georgia. More may follow.

As president, Trump would have no power of his own to quash directly any of these proceedings. He would have to act through others. For example, the most nearly unilateral thing that Trump could try would be a presidential self-pardon. Is that legal? Trump has asserted that it is. Only the Supreme Court can deliver a final verdict, which presents a significant risk to Trump, because the Court might say no. Self-pardon defies the history and logic of the presidential-pardon power. Would a Supreme Court struggling with legitimacy issues of its own take such a serious risk with its reputation to protect Trump from justice?

[Tom Nichols: Trump seems to be afraid, very afraid]

Trump has one way he might avert the hazard of the Supreme Court ruling against him. He could order his attorney general to order the special counsel not to bring a case against his self-pardon, and then order the Department of Justice to argue in court that nobody but the special counsel has standing to bring a case.

Then things get complicated. Would the attorney general do it? Would the special counsel submit? Would the professionals in the Department of Justice stay in their jobs? And what would happen in Congress and in the country?

The situation becomes even more complicated if you assume that Trump couldn’t win a majority of the popular vote (given that he has twice failed to win one). If he returns to office, he’d most likely do so thanks to a fluke in the Electoral College.

So a criminally indicted president would have to argue that he’s entitled to self-pardon, and also that he’s entitled to forbid the prosecutors to challenge that in court, and also that he can order his Department of Justice to fight in court against anybody else who seeks to sue in the prosecutors’ stead. He’d have to do all of this based on a claim that he represents the will of the people, even though he likely did not win a majority of the popular vote.

[David A. Graham: This indictment is different]

And after all that, he’d still face indictments in state courts, where he has no pardon power. So, for his next move, he would have to order the Department of Justice to argue that state courts have no criminal jurisdiction over a serving president. He could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue in New York City, or on the street in any state, and nobody could do anything about it until his term was up, if then.

As the absurdity of this situation would play out, it’s probable that within a couple of days of an attempt at self-pardoning, Trump wouldn’t have a Department of Justice. There would be mass resignations, and probably no way to confirm replacement senior officials in the U.S. Senate. (The first Trump administration repeatedly relied on acting appointees rather than on Senate-confirmed officials, but for a second administration to intentionally bypass the Senate in order to shut down the courts would invite a constitutional crisis all of its own.)

Trump’s other routes to the same destination run into the same problems. Trump could try a more indirect maneuver to shut down the federal indictments: Order Special Counsel Jack Smith to stand down, and fire him if he refuses. That approach bypasses the courts, but it depends even more heavily on finding a compliant attorney general to cancel the indictment, and on the acquiescence of Congress in what would look like an outright nullification of federal law enforcement. The federal Department of Justice would dissolve. The state cases would continue regardless. Trump scandals would be the only order of business in Congress.

Trump himself may not care: He was neither chastened nor deterred even by impeachment. But Trump leads a minority faction in the country, and the kind of permanent crisis a second presidential term would generate would invite a 2026 Democratic congressional landslide big enough to jolt even a Trump-led GOP.

Trump may imagine that he’s got a one-and-done fight on his hands: Strike hard, strike fast, then settle back to enjoy the corrupt perquisites of lawless power. If so, he and his followers are deluding themselves. The entire term would be consumed by the battle over Trump’s project to use the power of the presidency to protect himself from the consequences of his alleged crimes.

[Benjamin Wittes: Trump’s self-pardon fantasy will meet a harsh reality]

Trump’s past practice when in trouble was to deflect attention from one scandal by lurching into another scandal. Maybe this time he’d try to cut off aid to Ukraine or blow up NATO or start a culture war against drag queens. But none of those stunts would distract Americans; they would only embitter them.

A Trump bid for self-pardon would not be the equivalent of President Gerald Ford pardoning former President Richard Nixon, a decision unpopular at the time but ultimately accepted by many of its fiercest critics as well as a majority of the public. A self-pardon attempt would convulse the country. It would never gain acceptance as a legitimate act undertaken for public-spirited, bipartisan ends. The furor would not subside; the constitutional injury would not heal.

A second Trump presidency would offer only division, chaos, and paralysis that would never be quieted. Nor would it cease—until that presidency itself ceased, and perhaps not even then.

A Defense of the Supreme Court

The Atlantic

www.theatlantic.com › ideas › archive › 2023 › 08 › defense-supreme-court › 674874

This story seems to be about:

After last summer’s ruling on abortion, attacks on the Supreme Court were inevitable. The majority decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health––that there is no constitutional right to abortion––broke with a long-standing precedent that a majority of the public supported while taking away a right that tens of millions valued, factors that stoked a backlash as significant as any the Court had seen in decades.

What’s striking and harder to understand is the similarly furious backlash to the Supreme Court’s most recent term, which began in October 2022 and culminated in rulings announced this summer. That term encompasses 60 cases in total. The nonpartisan National Constitution Center flagged 13 of those cases as significant. Taken together, they show a Court that is broadly in step with public opinion and whose justices form shifting coalitions across ideological lines.

But left-of-center critics have advanced a wildly different interpretation of this term. They have treated center-right rulings as confirmation of the Supreme Court’s awfulness, if not its illegitimacy.

“This is not a normal court,” President Joe Biden said after the Supreme Court ruled that colleges and universities cannot implement affirmative-action policies in admissions that discriminate against candidates on the basis of race. “It’s done more to unravel basic rights and basic decisions than any Court in recent history.”

House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries declared, “Extremists on the Supreme Court are once again more interested in jamming their right-wing ideology down the throats of the American people.”

The Representative Ro Khanna, a progressive Democrat, told The Guardian, “When you look at how out of touch this court is with women’s rights, with racial equality, with voting rights, with the environment, with the challenges young people face, with LGBTQ+ rights, then you know they’re just out of touch. Many of these people couldn’t win elections for dogcatcher.”

“The Supreme Court is out of control,” The New Republic’s editor, Michael Tomasky, asserted in a fundraising pitch for the magazine’s coverage of the Court.

A professor emeritus at Harvard Law School, Mark Tushnet, even went so far as to send Biden an open letter urging him to disobey Supreme Court rulings at his own discretion in order “to restrain MAGA justices.” This argument shows no more regard for the rule of law and avoiding a constitutional crisis than did Donald Trump’s lawyer John Eastman before the January 6 riots.

The Supreme Court is not beyond criticism. I disagree often with all of its members and many of its majorities. I believe its justices are ethically bound to report significant gifts and free travel. I’d prefer fixed terms to appointees hanging on to their seat until death. But commentary on the Court’s 2023 rulings is so histrionic as to mislead the public about what happened.

[Linda Greenhouse: What in the world happened to the Supreme Court?]

Though accused of naked partisanship, the Court handed down multiple significant rulings where justices appointed by presidents of different parties were in the majority and minority together. Multiple majority decisions featured GOP-appointed justices ruling against the actions of GOP legislators. The Court generally ruled in ways that were consistent with the popular will, not at odds with it. (Polls aggregated by The New York Times suggest that just one ruling strayed significantly from public opinion––a case that recognized the Environmental Protection Agency’s statutory jurisdiction over permanent bodies of water while ruling that the Clean Water Act does not give it jurisdiction over wetlands.)

As for ideology, the Court’s judicial reasoning and outcomes alike suggest majorities that are more informed by small-l liberal values than the “right wing” or “extremist” values some antagonists allege. The justices safeguarded election integrity and voting rights in decisions that many Democrats cheered. And in two of the decisions that progressives complained about most, the Court stopped two powerful institutions from flagrantly discriminating against a racial-minority group and reined in a president who willfully exceeded his lawful authority by forgiving debt in a way that transferred wealth, overall, from poorer Americans to richer Americans.

Taken together, the majority decisions of 2023 reflected the justices reasoning their way to legally defensible and practically workable conclusions, whether or not you happen to agree with them. Nothing about those rulings provides any basis at all for calling the legitimacy of the Court into question, and those doing so are being as misleading as they are shortsighted and imprudent.

The Voting-Rights Cases

In two cases this term, Allen v. Milligan and Moore v. Harper, the Supreme Court considered controversies pitting Republican-controlled state legislatures––one in Alabama, the other in North Carolina––against litigants alleging that their actions were undermining the fairness of elections.

In Allen v. Milligan, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of those arguing that the redistricting plan of Alabama Republicans likely violated the Voting Rights Act. And in Moore v. Harper, the Supreme Court rejected the right-wing “independent legislature theory,” which posits that the Constitution gives state legislatures exclusive, unreviewable power to regulate federal elections. In an opinion written by Chief Justice John Roberts, a 6–3 majority ruled that North Carolina’s legislature does not have exclusive, independent authority over its own redistricting map: “When state legislatures prescribe the rules concerning federal elections, they remain subject to the ordinary exercise of state judicial review.”

Both cases––indeed, the whole areas of law they pertain to––are sufficiently daunting in their complexity that, much as I like the outcomes, I hesitate to opine on their legal merits. They are relevant here because if the Court were in fact a right-wing institution where the GOP appointees use their majority to advance partisan outcomes without any regard for the law or long-standing precedent, the GOP-controlled legislatures would have prevailed in both cases.

Instead, populist-right GOP plans lost in both cases. (Similarly, in United States v. Texas, an 8–1 majority ruled that Texas and Louisiana, two other states controlled by Republicans, lack standing under Article III of the Constitution to challenge Biden’s immigration-enforcement policy.) And some observers regard Moore v. Harper as vital to defending American democracy against populist-right efforts to steal elections like those in 2020.

“The Supreme Court’s decision strips away the foundation of G.O.P. arguments that the [2020] election was legally problematic because of state court interventions,” the lawyer and commentator David French argued. “Such interventions did not inherently violate the federal Constitution, and the state legislatures did not have extraordinary constitutional autonomy to independently set election rules. In regard to 2024 and beyond, the Supreme Court’s decision eliminates the ability of a rogue legislature to set new electoral rules immune from judicial review … In other words, the conventional checks and balances of American law will still apply.”

Affirmative Action

What if I told you that one of the oldest, most powerful corporations in America was engaged in institutionalized racial discrimination against a historically marginalized group; that young people who wanted to join the institution were assigned “personal ratings” by its officials; and that when those ratings were analyzed, members of the minority group were systematically rated as relatively deficient in traits such as “integrity, helpfulness, courage, kindness, fortitude, empathy, self-confidence, leadership ability, maturity, or grit” when compared with white people?

That is just part of the ugly reality of the admissions system that Harvard covertly implemented over the many years in which it was racially discriminating against Asian applicants. In different ways, the University of North Carolina discriminated against the same cohort. How absurd that far-flung American teenagers from the diaspora of the gargantuan, wildly diverse continent of Asia were––on the basis of retrograde racial pseudoscience––treated as a coherent group and forced to compete among one another for spots.

[Read: The end of affirmative action. For real this time.]

The majority opinion in the combined cases of Students for Fair Admissions, Inc. v. President and Fellows of Harvard College and Students for Fair Admissions, Inc. v. University of North Carolina struck down colleges’ ability to engage in racial discrimination in the name of affirmative action. Reasonable observers can differ as to whether the scope of the majority decision was appropriate or whether the racist policies should have been struck down more narrowly. But the majority got the most important question right: Neither the equal-protection clause of the Fourteenth Amendment nor the Civil Rights Act permits flagrant racial discrimination on the basis of Asian ancestry.

And moral clarity on that question was not just ethically important; it was politically important too. When progressives defend old-age entitlements such as Social Security, they grasp that the universality of such programs is inseparable from their long-term popularity. The same is true for our civil-rights infrastructure. Insofar as that infrastructure protects everyone in our multiethnic nation from the indignity of racial discrimination, everyone will have a stake in conserving it. In contrast, if civil-rights law protects Black people from elites who would assign them inferior “personal ratings” but does not protect Asian people––if it may or may not protect Latinos and definitely won’t protect white people––many will have an interest in its collapse.

Free Speech and Nondiscrimination

The case 303 Creative LLC v. Elenis concerns two different aspects of law that most Americans value highly: First Amendment protections that prevent the state from compelling speech, especially speech at odds with a person’s political or religious beliefs or their conscience, and civil-rights protections that prevent businesses from discriminating against would-be customers on the basis of race or sex, gender, sexual orientation, or other protected characteristics. What happens when free speech and nondiscrimination protections are in tension?

A law at issue, the Colorado Anti-Discrimination Act, prohibits a public accommodation from denying “the full and equal enjoyment” of goods or services to any customer based on disability, race, creed, color, sex, sexual orientation, marital status, national origin, or ancestry.

Lorie Smith runs a small business that sells graphic design, website design, and marketing. She wanted to start creating bespoke wedding websites that include her original art and prose celebrating the marriages of clients. In keeping with her religious tradition, which teaches that marriage is the union of one man and one woman, she does not believe that same-sex weddings in fact result in marriages. Smith feared that if she began creating wedding websites at all, the Colorado Civil Rights Commission would compel her to offer her services to couples planning same-sex weddings.

She was generally willing to serve gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans customers as clients for projects unrelated to weddings, and was generally unwilling to do creative work for anyone of any sexual orientation if the work violated her beliefs––for example, by encouraging violence, demeaning someone, or promoting atheism.

Like most Americans, I don’t much like Smith’s beliefs about same-sex marriage. But is her refusal to perform creative work that affirms gay unions as marriage functionally the same or legally distinct from discriminating on the basis of sexual orientation? And under the Constitution, if Smith began designing wedding websites, could the state compel her to create such a website, featuring her original artwork and prose, celebrating a same-sex marriage?

Under a cartoonishly maximalist approach to First Amendment concerns and an imprudently minimalist approach to public-accommodation concerns, the law could treat the act of selling any good or service as an expressive activity. A gas-station owner could decline to sell fuel to a lesbian couple; an innkeeper could refuse to rent them a room; a bartender could refuse to shake their cocktails. Under a cartoonishly maximalist approach to nondiscrimination law, the state could coerce and compel most any creative professional (an artist, a speechwriter, a journalist) to create things they abhor. To cite Judge Timothy Tymkovich’s dissent in the district-court ruling, an unwilling Muslim movie director could be compelled to make a film with a Zionist message; an atheist muralist could be made to accept a commission celebrating evangelical zeal.

To avoid such extremes, it helps to distinguish among cases.

For example: Is the good or service being offered truly expressive, like supplying an event with a comedian emcee or a keynote speech, or nonexpressive, like supplying an event with electricity or folding chairs? Will refusal to provide a service impose a heavy burden on the would-be customer, like the only gas station in town refusing to sell fuel to a gay couple? Or will the burden be tiny or nonexistent, as would be the case if one trans-owned craft store didn’t want to sell candles to a Catholic parish in a city with an IKEA, a Costco, and Amazon Prime delivery?

What’s unusual about 303 Creative LLC v. Elenis is that both sides in the case agreed on a lot of such distinctions. The majority opinion, by Justice Neil Gorsuch, summarizes those undisputed matters: Smith will “gladly create” graphics and websites for clients of any sexual orientation. She will not create content that “contradicts biblical truth” for clients of any sexual orientation. Her belief that marriage is the union of one man and one woman is “a sincerely held religious conviction.” The websites Smith plans “will be expressive in nature,” and will express her beliefs while celebrating her view of what marriage is under her own name, with attribution. And if Smith refuses a customer, numerous other companies “offer custom website design services.”

[David French: The most consequential First Amendment case this term]

Because Colorado stipulated all of that, it was, in effect, taking a relatively maximalist position: Smith must make websites for gay marriages, if she makes wedding websites at all, even if the work is original creative expression that sets forth her views and values under her own name; even if her representations are earnest, such that she is generally willing to make websites for gay clients and generally unwilling to make websites at odds with her faith in ways that have nothing to do with gay people; and even if gay couples will have no trouble finding other custom-website designers.

Gorsuch– (who also wrote the majority opinion in the 2020 case that found that “the 1964 Civil Rights Act protects gay, lesbian, and transgender employees from discrimination”) wrote in his majority opinion that under Colorado’s logic, “the government may compel anyone who speaks for pay on a given topic to accept all commissions on that same topic—no matter the underlying message—if the topic somehow implicates a customer’s statutorily protected trait. Taken seriously, that principle would allow the government to force all manner of artists, speechwriters, and others whose services involve speech to speak what they do not believe on pain of penalty.”

Gorsuch also takes care to clarify that “we do not question the vital role public accommodations laws play in realizing the civil rights of all Americans,” noting the Court’s ongoing recognition of “a ‘compelling interest’ in eliminating discrimination in places of public accommodation,” and specifying that state governments can protect the access of gay people specifically to “innumerable goods and services that no one could argue implicate the First Amendment.”

Although the ruling is clear that many public-accommodations laws pass constitutional muster while some “sweep too broadly when deployed to compel speech,” how to decide edge cases is less clear. “Determining what qualifies as expressive activity protected by the First Amendment can sometimes raise difficult questions,” Gorsuch writes. “But this case presents no complication of that kind.” If some future ruling allows a refusal to do business with gay people because of their sexual orientation itself, or starts treating every restaurant owner, innkeeper, plumber, mechanic, and dentist as a creative professional, I’ll worry intensely about the consequences for gay people trying to navigate society equally. But this ruling does not go there.

As for its practical consequences: Are same-sex couples going to have trouble finding vendors for creative wedding work? Thankfully, no. Seventy-one percent of Americans support gay marriage, as do 89 percent of 18-to-29-year-olds. In her dissent, Justice Sonia Sotomayor frets that a graphic designer refusing to make websites for same-sex weddings will stigmatize gay people; I think wedding-industry folks who refuse to work on same-sex weddings are more likely to create a stigma around their own business. And how many engaged gay couples even want to hire a creative professional who strongly opposes gay marriage to collaborate with them on their wedding?

Looking back on this case in 20 years, I suspect we’ll conclude that the Court struck a reasonable, practical balancing of rights that continued to afford substantial protections against discrimination in public accommodations––and that its compelled-speech precedent will be invoked again and again by Americans, including gay people and progressives, to vindicate their rights against state actors being coercive in ways that we haven’t even yet anticipated.

The Student-Debt Cases

In Biden v. Nebraska and Department of Education v. Brown, the Court considered the Biden administration’s attempt to cancel student-loan debt. Was the president lawfully empowered to do such a thing, or was he usurping power that properly belongs to Congress? In a 6–3 decision, the Court ruled that the Biden administration’s secretary of education “asserts that the HEROES Act grants him the authority to cancel $430 billion of student loan principal. It does not.”

Reacting to the decision, Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer declared, “This disappointing and cruel student debt ruling shows the callousness of the MAGA Republican-controlled Supreme Court.” Democratic Senator Elizabeth Warren complained that the Court “refuses to follow the plain language of the law on student loan cancellation,” as if student-loan-debt cancellation was not just lawful but obviously so, such that any contrary finding was bad-faith obstinacy. Love or hate the ruling, those critiques are egregiously misleading.

That Biden exceeded the lawful authority of the executive branch is not a view original or exclusive to MAGA Republicans. In 2021, the Office of the General Counsel at the Department of Education was asked to weigh in on whether the secretary of education had statutory authority to cancel, discharge, or forgive student loans. “We believe the Secretary does not have the statutory authority,” the resulting memorandum stated in a detailed legal analysis.

On July 28, 2021, Representative Nancy Pelosi was asked about different approaches to canceling student-loan debt. “People think that the president of the United States has the power for debt forgiveness,” she said. “He does not. He can postpone. He can delay. But he does not have that power. That has to be an act of Congress … The president can only postpone, delay, but not forgive.”

Charlie Rose, the top lawyer in President Barack Obama’s Education Department from 2009 to 2011, wrote a legal memo dated May 7, 2021, analyzing the Biden administration’s plan for his law firm, according to The Wall Street Journal. “If the issue is litigated,” the memo stated, “the more persuasive analyses tend to support the conclusion that the Executive Branch likely does not have the unilateral authority to engage in mass student debt cancellation.”

Elizabeth Goitein is an expert on presidential powers who was counsel to progressive then-Senator Russ Feingold and a senior director at the Brennan Center for Justice. She addressed the student-loan controversy in a 2022 Washington Post op-ed. “Biden cannot use emergency powers to forgive certain private student loan debts or debts incurred after the covid-19 emergency declaration lapses,” she wrote. “Sidelining Congress through emergency powers means sidelining the checks and balances that safeguard our liberties and democracy.”

One needn’t even agree with the general counsel at the Department of Education, or the point of view that Pelosi expressed in 2021, or Rose, or Goitein, to see the egregious dishonesty of characterizations like those made by Warren: It is simply false that any reasonable person who reads the plain text of the law sides with Biden. And Congress is free to cancel student-loan debt anytime. The only obstacle to its doing so is the inability of those who favor cancellation to pass such a law, because of insufficient support for it among America’s elected representatives. That is not on the Supreme Court.

Unanimous and Near-Unanimous Decisions

The most interesting and comprehensible of the unanimous decisions is Groff v. DeJoy. This case concerns Gerald Groff, an evangelical Christian who took a job with the United States Postal Service back when that didn’t involve having to work on the Christian sabbath. But times changed: USPS made a deal with Amazon to make deliveries on Sundays.

To continue observing the sabbath as directed in the Ten Commandments, Groff transferred to escape Amazon’s delivery footprint, ultimately winding up in tiny Holtwood, Pennsylvania, but Amazon, resting for neither man nor God, expanded there too. Groff then started getting written up for refusing to labor on Sundays. So he sued under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. In his telling, USPS could accommodate his religious belief “without undue hardship.” For a unanimous Court, Justice Samuel Alito wrote that “undue hardship” is shown “when a burden is substantial in the overall context of an employer’s business,” not when there is any trifling cost (a standard that some lower courts were erroneously adopting due to language in a bygone case). Employers “must show that the burden of granting an accommodation would result in substantial increased costs in relation to the conduct of its particular business,” the Court ruled.

For better or worse, it sided with a worker against the interests of a large employer. It is likely to marginally benefit religious workers of all faiths while marginally burdening corporations and other businesses. How does this square with characterizations of the Court as “right-wing”?

Less important for our purposes than the details of Jack Daniel’s Properties v. VIP Products LLC, a case about a dog toy shaped like a Jack Daniel’s bottle, or the combined Gonzalez v. Google LLC and Twitter, Inc. v. Taamneh, which concern the responsibilities of social-media companies subject to laws that regulate content, is the fact that all nine justices were able to reach consensus.

The Court also handed down a 7–2 decision about what constitutes a true threat under the First Amendment; Justices Amy Coney Barrett and Clarence Thomas dissented. Another 7–2 case, Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts Inc. v. Goldsmith, concerns the professional photographer Lynn Goldsmith, who took a photo in 1981 of the up-and-coming musician Prince. She later granted Vanity Fair a one-time-only license to use the Prince photo as an “artist reference for an illustration”––which turned out to mean that Vanity Fair hired the famous pop artist Andy Warhol to do an illustration of Prince. Warhol created a bunch of different images based on the photo. Among his creations was a silk-screen portrait, Orange Prince, that Vanity Fair’s parent company reused for a 2016 cover. Was that an infringement of the photographer’s copyright or fair use?

Siding with the photographer, Sotomayor wrote the majority opinion, joined by Thomas, Alito, Gorsuch, and Barrett, as well as Ketanji Brown Jackson and Brett Kavanagh. Dissenting together were Roberts and Elena Kagan. I have no idea who got that one right, but the shifting coalitions of justices undermine the reductionist narrative of partisans siding with their team.

The Stakes

Inaccurate characterizations of major institutions are always worth correcting, but the stakes are especially high when the Supreme Court is attacked inaccurately by those seeking to undermine it.

Insofar as the Court loses its standing and legitimacy, it loses its ability to check and balance future abuses of power by other branches of government and all of its precedents lose their standing.

The right finds it easier to see the value of a legitimate Supreme Court now that it is sometimes winning. Progressives smarting from last term’s abortion decision might think, on first instinct, that it would be good if the Court lost its influence. But that is shortsighted. Because of Dobbs, the question of abortion has been returned to the political branches of government. If the high court lost its power in American life, proponents of abortion rights would be no better off––the matter would still turn on elected officials at the federal and state levels.

Whereas if the Court lost its legitimacy––if the people and the political branches ceased to respect its rulings––Americans would lose rights and protections as varied as the constraints on law enforcement in Miranda, the press protections in New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, and the marriage-rights protections in Obergefell. Absent a strong Supreme Court, I tremble to think how the most retrograde Deep South legislators would draw redistricting maps and constrain voting rights.

So what would I suggest for Democrats and progressives who dislike the current Court majority and wish to reverse its rulings? Harken back to the days of the Warren Court, regarded by many as an especially left-leaning era, and the days of the Rehnquist Court and beyond, when conservatives thought they’d succeeded in electing presidents who appointed a majority they liked, only to see abortion and affirmative action upheld. In those days, when conservatives were losing ground, or failing to win it back despite decades of effort, what would you have seen as legitimate criticism and what would you have regarded as corrosive attacks on the legitimacy of the judiciary? Let that––and truth––be your guides. Meanwhile, practice tolerance, forbearance, and persuasion, and win elections. Another era of the Court always comes.